Michael

Klempner is, as usual, waiting as we arrive. From his seat, behind the barrier, he watches me enter with Charlotte. He looks rough; shadows under his eyes and he's lost weight.

The guard, Hartland, is there. He leans down, whispers close by my ear. “If it looks like trouble, just say the word.”

“I will.”

Then he straightens up and levels his baton towards Klempner. “Behave yourself, Larry.”

Klempner looks up, just barely tilts his head in acknowledgement. But I remember the look he gave Hartwell the last time we were here…

The monster stirring…

Klempner watches as James follows us in, letting out a barely audible sigh as he sits.

“That leg giving you trouble?”

James reply is curt. “Cold, damp weather.” But I hear his surprise at the question lurking behind the words.

Klempner fingers a long white scar on his hand. “It can't have been pleasant when Bech shot you. Tell me, do you remember it happening?”

James’ eyes shoot arrows. “What's it to you?”

“If you had just discovered you have a daughter, don't you think you would want to know something about the man she answers to?”

James shifts. Not much and perhaps not visibly to those who didn't know him, but I see it.

Unsettled?

“I didn't remember it at first, no,” he says. “The memory resurfaced after a few months.”

Klempner raises a flat, mirror gaze to him. “The memory was repressed?”

“Apparently.”

Klempner has a plastic cup of water by him. He takes a long mouthful, then sets it down again. “Interesting,” he says, “how the mind protects itself.”

What the hell’s he talking about?

Between me and James, Charlotte sits, shuffling awkwardly. Klempner chews at his upper lip. The pair regard each other in silence for a long minute then Charlotte finally speaks. “Thank you for sending the necklace.”

In restrained tones, “You’re welcome.” His eyes dip to her collar bone. “It suits you. As it did your mother.”

Charlotte swallows and lapses into silence again.

This could take a while…

After another long pause, Klempner says, “Are you going to ask me about your mother? That’s what you usually do.”

Charlotte fidgets then blurts, “I don’t even know what to call you.”

Klempner blows air. Looks down. Looks up. Then, “I suppose Dad is too much to hope for?”

James huffs and Klempner levels a stare at him. Then, “What do you want to call me?”

Charlotte’s voice would cut glass. “Don't tempt me.”

He coughs a laugh with no humour in it. “They know me as Larry around here. You can call me Larry.”

“What's your real name?”

“What?” He seems genuinely taken aback by the question.

name? I don’t think it’s Klempner. I think you've probably gone by a lot

name. I left that behind when I was

“And Larry?”

“That was what

“Your mother?”

I did have

the sarcasm. “I wanted to

a fingernail on the counter.

“What was she like?”

freeze a basilisk. “Why do

my… father… then she's my grandmother. I’m trying to find out who my family were… are…. You told me that your father beat you. I wondered what your

“No, she didn’t.”

He looks haunted…

“Tell me about her.”

“I barely remember her.”

me what you do

one day. But

What going on?

on the counter. “You said you killed your father.

He was a violent man.

“He beat you?”

his fists. When I was small, he used my mother as a

frozen as he speaks. Klempner jerks his chin up. “It’s

“Yes.”

had me backed against the kitchen table. He was drunk. Throwing

to eat your eggs or scrape butter onto bread. But it’s what

chest rises and falls; rises and

for a moment, then, “No. I was shocked; in pain from the beating he’d already given me. I was

“Where to?”

just out… Then, out of town. Then I didn’t know what to do. I considered joining the army. You know the kind

you. Not for

How much did you know of the world at that age? I’d run a knife into a man and watched him die at

Charlotte’s face goes slack…

Jenkins…

to her at

thought she’d killed

She ran…

And she kept running…

the country. Worked my way on the cargo ships. There’s destinations where they don’t ask too many questions so long as you pull your weight. And it was easier back then. They didn’t have the kind of security on ports that they do now.

arms, leans forward. “Which part

but I moved around a lot.

again. “Those were dangerous places to be. And dangerous times

they were.” Klempner’s voice is languid, almost bored, but his gaze

were you doing? Why did

eyes pass to her, then

“There’s always a war to be

a moment, then refocuses. “You were

“I was. Yes.”

would you do something

“It’s a living.”

“But it’s so dangerous.”

head tilts. “Compared

to….” She holds… chewing

piece of advice, for what it is worth to you. If you find yourself in a dangerous situation,

“Tell me. You wouldn’t

run,” he says, a touch of asperity in

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