The Lover's Children novel Chapter 95

RICHARD

Klempner, face masked neutral, enunciates his words. “I’m using office facilities as provided by your employer.” He eye-points Lydia to me.

As if a man like him would be interested in some kid barely out of pigtails.

“Oh! That sounds exciting.” Her eyes light up. “What is it you do?

Francis delivers another scathing look. “Lydia… Whatever Mr Waterman does is none of your business. Now concentrate on your own work. Don’t you have that filing still to do?”

“Yes, Mrs Colby.”

Klempner, his expression still a crafted blank, returns his attention to me. “As I was saying, do you need me to check in?”

Francis shuffles papers, cocking a brow at me but I give her a micro-shake of my head. “No, not at all. I gave you the use of that apartment for a purpose. It’s 24/7 access and your swipe card will handle anything that building security needs. Use the space as works best for you.”

He inclines his head. “Thank you. I’m heading there now.”

“Do you have everything you need?”

Klempner pauses, sucking air between his teeth as he stares into space for a moment. “Another corkboard would be useful. As large as you have available.”

“Francis, could you arrange that, please.”

My trusty PA is already tapping into her phone. “I’ll get Maintenance right onto it for you, Mr Waterman. Where would you like it mounted?”

Klempner havers. “Just send up the board. And some wall fixings. I’ll mount it myself.” Briefly, his eyes meet mine…

Doesn’t want anyone else seeing what’s in that room…

… then with a cursory nod, he turns back into the elevator. Green lights blink upward.

“How’s he getting on up there?” It’s James, framed by his office door, and obviously switched to Was-Listening-In mode.

“No idea. Shall we find out?”

*****

I tap at the door of the apartment I’ve assigned to Klempner while he’s working on his case with the police…

And perhaps on others to come…

Another knock: “Larry? It’s Richard and James.”

A few seconds, the clip of footsteps and the door opens. Klempner’s brows rise as he stands back to admit us. “You hardly have to knock. It’s your building.”

“And your private space.”

James offers the corkboard tucked under his arm. “Brought this up for you.”

Klempner’s lips twitch. “Needed two of you for that, did it?” Taking the board from James, he jerks his head inside. “You’d better come in.”

Klempner’s private space is bland enough. The apartment is designed as guest accommodation for visitors. Small, but well fitted out, the living area looks over the City. Doors lead to a kitchenette and the bathroom from one side, to the pair of bedrooms from the other.

The door to one of the bedrooms stands ajar. So does the door to the kitchenette, billowing the scent of brewing coffee, not quite masked by the fragrance of a display of lilies by the window.

The settee and coffee table look untouched. Footprints overlie the vacuumed stripes of the carpet, leading to and from the open bedroom door and drag marks from where a small desk, normally placed under the window, has been moved into the bedroom.

Klempner follows my eye. “I set up in there rather than here. I don’t know your cleaning schedules here, but I thought it better that none of your staff saw what’s in there. Which reminds me, is it okay if I fit a lock to that door? I’d prefer not to have anyone wandering in when I’m not here.”

“What’s in there?” queries James.

“Police files... Photos…” He hesitates… “Murder boards.”

“Boards? Boards plural?”

“One for each victim.”

“Mind if we see?”

Klempner cants his head, his voice is mild. “I don’t mind, no. But you might. It’s not good.”

James’ jaw sets. “I’d like to see.”

Klempner shrugs, holds his palm toward the door. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

James enters ahead of me. I all but walk into the back of him as he halts mid-stride. “Jesus Christ!”

“James?”

His shoulders rise and fall with the draw of a breath, then he swipes a hand through his hair. “As you said, I was warned.” He steps forward once more and I follow, Klempner close behind me.