Chapter 70
Chapter 70
Five Years Ago - Jenny
The cafe is busy, humming with the work-day crowd. Customers call by, paying small fortunes for tiny
espressos and huge lattes-to-go.
The red-headed waitress serves the clientele. For the most part, they are decent enough types; office Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
workers, suits, maintenance men on the move, students….
She moves through the tables, smoothly performing her job, taking orders. To the front of the cafe is a
small area of informal seating; overstuffed settees that look out onto the City through plate glass
windows. As she sees the blue-uniformed officer with his back to her, she retreats to the rear of the
cafe.
“I’ll do that if you like,” she offers. She knows Daphne detests cleaning the coffee machines, clearing
away old grinds and wiping the chrome surfaces until they shine again.
Daphne gives her a grateful look. “You sure?”
“No problem. You take my tables at the front and I’ll do this.”
The red-haired waitress unplugs then dismantles the coffee machine, brushing away used grinds,
polishing down the sleek chrome surface, all the while watching the reflection of the police officer’s
back, and the man he is talking to, his face obscured by the crowd….
…. “So, what the fuck’s happened to her, Bech?” hisses Klempner. “Where the hell is she?” He is
barely recognizable. His hair is much darkened, matching the beard which has changed the line of his
jaw. He blinks constantly against the contact lenses which have made his eyes a dark brown that
matches the hair. The irritation is doing nothing to improve his mood.
I could slit his fucking throat for this….
…. But I can't afford to lose anyone else right now.
“Find her, Bech.”
“Sir, I will find her. I’m sure.” Bech keeps his voice low, making random jottings on a pad, as though he
is interviewing. “I have a good lead through her on-going divorce….”
“Yes…” hisses Klempner. “And how did she come to be married without you informing me of it? You
should have pulled her out long ago.”
Bech hears the cracking of thin ice under his feet. “Sir,” he repeats, “I will find her. But with everything
that is happening, is this really the most important….?”
“Find her, Bech.” And Klempner’s captain cannot fail to hear the threat in his leader’s voice.
*****
Richard
As Elizabeth and I arrive, the ward sister wears a face that would strip the fur from a peach.
Is James behaving himself?
“The patient giving you trouble?”
She sniffs the disdain of curtain-twitchers everywhere. “Oh, it’s you, Mr Haswell. It’s not the patient, no.
He isn’t capable of….”
“Thank you, Sister,” interrupts the doctor.
The nurse glowers but retreats. “What was that all about?” I ask.
The doctor lifts eyes to heaven. “How to put this? Your three friends were…. quite noisy…. last night.”
Elizabeth suddenly breaks into a fit of coughing, refusing flat out to meet my eye when I harrumph a
cough back to her.
Ye gods…. The man’s had a bullet in him and the three of them are….
*****
Michael is there and both he and Charlotte look much better. He’s losing the circles under his eyes and
that gaunt heaviness he had about him while James’ survival was doubtful. And she has a sparkle back
in her eye.
“Got everything you need?” asks Elizabeth.
There is something in my wife’s body language as she speaks to him.…
She looks up to him….
…. And perhaps stands a little close….
But he backs away.
…. Do either of them realise they are doing it?
Michael rubs the back of his neck, screwing up his face. “Yes, everything except the magic wand it
needs to provide overnight healing for a strong, arrogant, bad-tempered patient.”
Sounds like James….
Definitely on the mend then….
“That bad?” I ask.
He scratches through his thatch of blond hair. “You have no idea….”
I scratch my nose. “Um, by the way….” I say, “Er, there’s no non-embarrassing way to put this, but
when you’re um…. busy…. in the middle of the night, you might want to keep the noise down. The
matron down there was laughing, but a bit indignant.”
Charlotte looks one way, Michael the other, she pinking, he flaming.
“Was she very annoyed?” asks Charlotte.
“What if she was? Oh, by the way….”
I’ll put a smile on your face….
I rummage through my pocket, then offer her what I find there. “Will Stanton asked me to give you
these. They were taken off Klempner.”
Brow furrowed, she holds out a hand, and into her waiting palm, I drop two rings, one in red and white
gold, one in yellow and white gold; James’ and Michael’s love gifts to her.
She looks down at them, then up at me and at Elizabeth, her eyes swimming, but as she slips them
onto her finger, she is smiling.
*****
‘Get-well’ cards array the room on all sides, balanced on cupboards and equipment, pinned to walls.
The numbers surprise me. James never appears to have many friends and curiosity is making my
fingers itch. While the others chat, I glance inside a few. Some of the names I don’t recognise. Others I
know as friends of the Threesome from the clubs they use.
Yet more bring a smile to my face; employees and fellow-workers. James might make the people
around him edgy sometimes, but he’s well enough regarded that, as I look through the collection, a
good half are from the people who work with him or answer to him in the offices or on-site.
Intrigued now, I work through the cards. And some of the well-wishers are downright surprising.
*****