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.

I think you've probably gone by a lot of names. In a lot

name. I left that behind when I was fourteen. Klempner

“And Larry?”

“That was what my mother

“Your mother?”

did have one

sarcasm. “I wanted to ask

on the counter. “What about

“What was she like?”

stare would freeze a basilisk. “Why do you want

my family were…

“No,

He looks haunted…

“Tell me about her.”

“I barely remember her.”

what you

one day.

What going on?

on the counter. “You said you killed

a violent man.

“He beat you?”

it. Used his fists. When I was small, he used my mother as a punch-bag. Later, it was

painted into place, Charlotte sits, frozen as he speaks. Klempner jerks his

“Yes.”

his head; forward, backward, slowly, as though considering, then, “I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. He had me backed against the kitchen table. He was

meat knife. Just the kind you’d use to eat your

and falls. “Did

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

“Where to?”

considered joining the army. You know the kind of thing. ‘Learn

Not for defending

much did you know of the world at that age? I’d run a knife into a man and watched him die at my feet. I thought they’d lock me up and throw away the

Charlotte’s face goes slack…

Jenkins…

of what happened to her at

she’d killed

She ran…

And she kept running…

is still speaking. “I left 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

leans forward.

in Lagos, but I moved around a lot. Congo, Chad, Central African Republic… you

were dangerous places

languid, almost bored, but his gaze

in. “What were you doing?

pass to her, then back to Klempner,

to be found in that part of

face blanks over for a moment, then

“I was. Yes.”

would you do something like

“It’s a living.”

“But it’s so dangerous.”

head tilts.

She holds… chewing her

it is worth to you. If you find yourself in a dangerous

mouth flaps, then, “What happened after that? Tell me.” Klempner doesn’t speak. “Tell me. You wouldn’t have said all that unless you wanted me to know.

run,” he says, a touch of asperity in his

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