JAMES"Morning, Kirstie."The concierge smiles from her desk as we enter and cross the lobby. "Good morning, Mr Alexanders. Morning Charlotte." Then she riffles through a stack on her in-tray. "Oh, Charlotte. Some mail for you. I had to sign for this one." She offers a small padded envelope, then, clearing her throat, "Um, James...""I've not forgotten my promise, Kirstie. I'm seeing Ryan later this week on-site. I'll make a point of allowing extra time for a chat with him.""Thank you." She bobs her head, the pearl on her velvet choker bobbing with her.Charlotte looks curiously but briefly, her attention taken by the packet. She receives very little mail.And there's only so many people who might send her a package...My antennae twitching, "Why don't we go up to my office," I say. "Have a coffee together before we start the working day. You can open it there..."... In privacy...She nods, going into silent running. As we ride the elevator, she crosses her arms, th

KLEMPNERTrue to his prediction, Bech produces an address for Conners in under an hour. "I put Malory on there," he says, "to check out if she's there. It's on the fourth floor, but he confirms he's sighted a red-headed woman moving around inside." He tugs at his chin, eyeing me speculatively. "What are your orders, sir?"I want nothing more than to walk away from this. To lie down. To sleep away the banging inside my head."Sir?"This is about survival... "Sir, we cannot let this woman run free. She knows too much. She's a loose cannon."He's right...But I can't bring myself to give the order.Bech inhales. "Sir, I understand that you find this difficult. If you wish, I will handle it.""No!"Bech jolts at my tone.More calmly, "No. As you say, Bech. It has to be handled. Tell Malory to stay where he is. Keep a track of where they are. We'll meet him there."*****By the elevator, Malory is waiting for us as we arrive. In blue overalls and with a toolbox on

CHARLOTTEVincenzo leaves and I sit, trying to make sense of my thoughts. My Master sits by me, holding my hand in his. His voice soft. "What will you do with it? The house?""I've no idea. I hadn't got that far."He left it to me...Of everyone there...All the children he taught...He left it to me..."Perhaps you should visit before you decide? You can have a look around. Go through the house. Perhaps find something to remember him by...""I'd like that, yes. But the people there weren't exactly welcoming the last time I visited."He hmmms... Stands. Paces. "You could ask Chad to go along too? Maybe clear things up for you.""Perhaps."He sits again. Takes my hand again. Kisses the fingers. "I'd like to come too...""Of course, Master. I'd assumed you would.""... You see, among other things, I'd like the chance to meet the original 'Charlotte'..."Ooohhh... Goddd...My horse...*****MICHAELKlempner is, as usual, waiting as we arrive. From his s

She's gone.What now?I stare out of the window of the apartment I bought for her, overlooking the harbour with its yachts and pleasure boats, ice-cream kiosks and artsy-craftsy shops. Sunshine glints outside on the water, gleams on fresh paint, blue and white, and on polished timber decks, then spills into the room. But there's no warmth in it. Tugging my jacket around me, I hiss as pain stabs through my hand. Gashed flesh swollen and heated, seeps blood.I should dress it......Later...I thought I had it.I thought I had her.I really did.......It's so cold.Walking through to the kitchen, I limp a little where my ankle twisted as I fell...Would he really have run me down?... then clumsily, working with one hand, I make coffee, splashing in a hefty measure of whiskey, then more until the cup teeters on overflowing.You had me fooled, Larry. You really had me going. When you left, I was coming to see you... and then I saw them... Returning with

JAMESCharlotte pleads with her mother. "Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me there? At Blessingmoors. With him?"Mitch thunders upright from her seat. Face reddening, her mouth twists. "I did not leave you. I would never have left you...""I thought you must have abandoned me...""No." She swings on Charlotte, eyes glossy. "I left because..." Her voice hushes... "Because you were dead." Mitch presses fingers to her forehead. "You were dead. He told me that. How can you be alive? How?""Who told you?" I ask. "Klempner said that? He told you your baby had died?""No, not Larry." Hands pressed to her cheeks, Mitch swings her face to one side then the other. "It was Frank. He said you were dead, that he'd seen Larry murder you."The bang of a door closing echoes through the room, then boots on linoleum coming closer.Mitch whirls to the door. "He'll tell us.""He?"The door opens and a figure steps into the lounge. Not overly tall although perhaps once beefily bu