Chapter 85: Chapter 85

*****

I’m fucking furious.

I drive away, my foot hard on the gas, then as I screech around a corner, realise I’m driving with my temper instead of my head.

Calm down….

I pull over at a coffee bar, buy a large latte to go, then sit in the car while I cool off enough to think clearly.

By the time I finish my drink my head is working again.

Call James….

I tap at my screen and he answers almost instantly.

“Can you talk?”

“Mmmm….”

“Does that mean I can talk but you can't?

“That's right. How are things?”

“Not good. Couldn't move them. Stephen just dug his heels in. I think David might have relaxed if I could have caught him alone, but Stephen’s in charge. He was furious when I showed them the photo and the birth certificate for Charlotte’s mother, but he wouldn’t budge. Ordered me out of the house and threatened me with the police if I showed up again.”

There is a silence, then. “Understood.”

In the background, I hear. “Is that Michael? How is he?”

“He sounds bored rigid and ready to come home.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“I’m just putting Charlotte on for you.”

“Michael, how was your trade fair?”

“Like James said. Mind-numbingly boring. I’m on my way home.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

*****

Klempner Is it worth it?

Bare brick….

Barred windows….

The sound of yelling, coughing, toilets flushing, echoing footsteps….

The clang of doors closing, then locking….

And the smell….

Sweat….

Disinfectant….

Cigarette smoke….

…. And fucking cabbage….

Why cabbage? All the fucking vegetables in the world and the whole fucking place smells of boiled cabbage.

I try to read a book. Thankfully, that’s one thing that isn’t taken away; the ability to lose yourself in a decent read.

‘The Godfather’….

Amateurs….

I turn over, lying first on one side, then the other, trying to find a position where the mattress doesn’t sag enough to curve my spine into a fucking pretzel….

The door clangs open and Sutcliffe steps inside. He looks briefly back out into the walkway then re-

enters, pushing the door semi-closed.“Excuse me sir, but I have some interesting news for you.”

“Really? What would that be?”

“This woman that you are hoping they can find….”

My ears prick. “Yes, what about her?”

“It appears they have found an unexpected family link.”

Bored again, I interrupt him. “It’s not unexpected. I already knew the women were related.”

“Yes sir, but another connection has emerged. Apparently, Haswell…. Richard Haswell that is, not his wife…. His father had a business connection with the Kimberley family.”

“His father? That must be thirty years ago….”

“More than forty apparently, sir.”

I put my book to one side and sit up. The Corleone’s can wait.

“Take a seat, Sutcliffe. Tell me everything you know.”

“Yes, sir.”

*****

Twenty-Nine Years Ago “Sir, I believe I have located what you were looking for.”

“What’s that, Bech?”

“I have found what I think will be a suitable site for your…. project. It's an old industrial site and a lot of what would be needed is already there; offices, security, water, electricity and so on. And the old workrooms and factory floor would easily convert to dormitories.”

“That sounds ideal, Bech. Where is it?”

“In the heart of the Old City. The area around is very run-down and a lot of it derelict….”

“Not too many passers-by then?”

“Exactly, sir. Because of its previous use, the grounds are well protected, either walled or fenced and most of the windows are already barred.”

“When you say it was an industrial site…?”

“It was a mill originally. Cotton processing and weaving, before most of that kind of thing went to India and the third world. It was built by Blessingmoors Industries in the eighteen hundreds. They went out of business long ago, but the building is still there and largely intact.”

“Excellent, Bech. I’d like you to arrange for me to….”

“I’ve taken the liberty of doing that already, sir. You have an appointment tomorrow at two pm with the agent. Here’s his card: Frank Conners.”

*****