James
Klempner dives through the window and abruptly I am back to the real world, Georgie frantically wailing and crying from the bed.
At floor level, Stannis stirs, groaning. Swinging hard with the toe of my boot, I resist the temptation to kick him in the head, aiming for his ribs instead. He grunts, curling in on himself, but I’m not about to waste any sympathy on him.
Briefly, I sit on the edge of the bed by my weeping daughter, squeezing her shoulder. “Just half a minute, Georgie. Let me make sure this bastard’s out of action.”
She nods, shuddering, but through her tears, her eyes rolling sidelong, she head-points to…
… to…
… to a roll of tape and a packet of zip ties on the table. I’d not noticed them before, hidden by a stack of empty beer cans.
“Good girl.” I kiss her forehead. “That’s it. Keep thinking straight.” Then quickly, twisting his hands behind his back, I bind the semi-conscious Stannis at wrist, ankle and knees. He groans and whines, so I give him another kick for good measure.
Then I sit by my daughter, stroking her cheek. “You’re safe now.” She’s trembling, tears spilling from red-rimmed eyes.
The tape over her mouth wraps right around her head, gluing into her long dark hair, tangled and knotting. It takes me several minutes, picking with my fingernail, to unpeel it all. As I pull the last of it free, trying not to tear the delicate skin of her lips, she bursts out…
“Oh God, You came. You found me…”
“Shhh. Yes, we found you. I will always find you, Georgie.”
Her wrists are bound using the zip ties: tight… far too tight, the fingers dark with blood. I fumble in my pocket for something to cut them open, a pen-knife, keys… something…
“I’ll be back in a minute, Georgie. I need to find…”
She cuts in. “Dad… the drawer under the table. There’s cutlery in there.”
The drawer produces a small, sharp knife. Easing the point under the plastic I saw gently until it parts, then hold her hands in my own as she gasps, rubbing gently as the blood releases.
She struggles to sit up, shaking her hands, clenching and reclenching the fingers.
“Alright?”
She nods quickly, biting at her bottom lip. “Hmm, yes.”
She flings herself into my arms. “Oh, God, Dad…” Then, her face pushed into my chest, bursting into wracking sobs, “Daddy… You found me. You found me.”
And all I can do is hold her close and stroke her hair.
*****
Klempner
Stanton listens in while a uniform takes Michael’s statement.
He looks ill, his face pale and shiny, pupils like pinpricks. “She pushed him. He was protecting her, trying to cover her and keep me off while she got away. You could see, he wasn’t just some muscle doing his job. He felt something for her. And she simply pushed him. Tipped him over the edge.”
Michael’s voice wavers. His hands are trembling. “As he went over, he managed to catch at the edge. He was hanging on, screaming at me for help. I tried to pull him up, but I couldn’t hold on. His hand slipped out of mine and he…” His voice catches… “Oh, God… He fell. He seemed to fall forever… When I turned, she’d gone.”
*****
He’s a good man is Michael; tough enough in the everyday way of things. But this kind of cold-blooded murder is alien to him.
And I’ve lost Baxter.
Again.
Who is she?
Stanton stands over me, his face thoughtful.
“I’m in the clear in this one you realise? I was at ground level when he tried to fly.”
“I know that. You might like to know that you’re in the clear on Mickey Miller too.”
“I thought I already was? You came with me to the hospital. You spoke to him…”
Stanton rocks his hand. “People can get confused, especially when they’ve been through injury and in shock…”
“So?”
“So… we have several lines of evidence now. For example, the finger-prints on your knife are unusable as the wearer was wearing gloves. But Forensics have found some fibres that were found embedded in the binding of the handle.”
“Fibres? What kind of fibres?”
“Black fibres, of the kind that might be found in lace gloves…”
“Black lace…” My mind whirrs.
But Stanton’s still speaking. “However, that’s not the main evidence. We’ve had the CCTV footage from the Lucky Time Bar. The whole thing, captured on video. You want to see it?”
“Are you kidding?”
*****
And there, in grainy monochrome, the Lucky Time two nights ago.
“Why did it take so long to get this?”
“It didn’t. It’s just the first opportunity I’ve had to show it to you.”
There on-screen, in the milling crowd, I’m standing next to Hickman, talking…
“Who is that you’re talking to there, Klempner?”
“Never mind. He’s nothing to do with you.”
Stanton’s voice remains dry. “Is that so?”
Hickman stares past me, saying something silent and my head swings to see the approaching wrathful James… I turn, pressing my drink into Hickman’s hand as I turn to make my escape…
… to be blocked by Mickey, coming up close, dragging Zombie Girl in his wake…
What was she called?
Oh, yes. Aurora…
… bursting with words. I see it, mouthed in silence… “Mr Klempner, I remembered something…”
… and my hesitation at speaking with him as James arrives and my cheesy camaraderie, slapping him on the shoulder…
“Oh, yes, James is an old friend of mine. We go wayyyy back. In fact, he’s married to my daughter. James is my son-in-law.”
James with gritted teeth…
Me enjoying the joke…
Mickey goggling, with Aurora watching closely…
And now… Seeing it again from the outside, I see her expression…
… and her face…
And with twenty-twenty hindsight, it’s so completely, fucking obvious…
Under the layers of ghoulish make-up
Beside me, Stanton’s voice remains steady. “You see it, Klempner?”
“I see it, yes.”
Aurora?
Julia…
At the time, I’d taken her wide-eyed reaction as surprise, but as Hickman draws my focus away from James and Mickey, and up to Baxter up on the mezzanine, her face twists to sheer hatred…
… It’s toxic and twisted…
Targeted at me…
Targeted at James…
And as every other eye turns upwards, she leans in, her lace-gloved hand slides under my jacket and she pulls the knife out from behind me.
I’m setting off at a run towards the stairway, going after Baxter. James and Hickman both launch themselves outwards: toward front and rear doors…
… and in the second or so that takes to unravel, my knife plunges into Mickey’s gut.
For a moment, he doesn’t even seem to realise it’s happened, then he drops like a felled ox.
And by that time, I’m already gone.
“Oh, Christ…”
James…
I told her he was my friend…
My son-in-law…
I told her Mickey was my friend…
Stanton speaks quietly. “Who is she, Klempner?”
“Commissioner, I have no idea who she is. I don’t recognise her, but she must be from somewhere in my past.”
“Someone you trafficked perhaps? Who’s decided to target anyone that has anything to do with you?”
“That’s… how it’s looking, yes.”
Mitch…
“Stanton, I have to go.”
“Relax, I’m ahead of you. I have guards posted up at James and Michael’s place.”
“And by Mitch’s apartment too? It’s separate from the house.”
“Yes, there too.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I think you will find James plans to take Georgie back there too.”
“He does?”
That could be complicated…
*****