The Lover's Children

Chapter 105 – Summer’s Inferno – Part 15

MICHAEL

“Marty, I believe you. But…” I hunker down to her level, eyeballing her. “… Listen, given that you

accepted this man’s money, even as a tip, he may consider you to be a prostitute. Not all men draw, or

are capable of drawing, the distinction between a woman who displays her body for a living and one

who sells it...”

She’s trembling. I speak gently, trying to keep the bite out of my word… “… And I don’t believe, given

your profession, that you don’t really understand that. You can’t do the kind of work you do and be that

naive. If this man really is the Surgeon, you are in clear and present danger.”

She gazes at me with a rabbit-in-the-headlights stare.

I continue. “I can see that you believe me. And you believe me without me having tried too hard to

convince you. I think you’ve been in denial… It can’t ever happen to me… But you already knew that

something about him feels wrong. You might have mentioned him in passing to Danny, but I don’t

believe you would have done that if you didn’t know in your gut that you have a problem.”

Her eyes raise to mine. “You're scaring me.”

“Good. If this is the man we’re looking for, you should be scared.”

Lindsey rockets up from her chair. “That's it. I'm outta here. Marty, no offence, but I'm not staying. You'll

find my half of the rent for the month in the jar…” She jabs a finger at an earthenware pot perched

beside a stained wall mirror. “I'm going to stay with my mom till I find a new place.”

Marty stands. “You can't leave me here alone.”

“You should leave too.” Lindsey sneers around the room. “You got some sentimental attachment to this

dump?”

“No, but...”

James interrupts, “Marty, your friend’s right. You should move out. Both of you. And immediately. Do

you have somewhere you can go? Parents? Friends?”

“I've… I’ve got a sister, Carla. But she lives the other side of the country.”

“Go stay with her for a while. At least until this man’s been caught.”

She dithers, babbling. “I can’t just leave. My job. The rent. And I can’t just drop on Carla. I’ve

arrangements to make…”

“Fine, but don’t do it from here,” says James. “Michael here runs a hotel. You can stay there for a few

days while you make your arrangements.”

“My stuff…” she protests. “I need to pack and…”

“I’ll help you pack. Or Charlotte can if that makes you feel more comfortable.” I look around the room.

“This furniture yours?”

“Some of it. Most belongs to the landlord. But there’s my wardrobe and the bed. I…” She sounds

sheepish… “I didn’t like the look of the mattress on the one the landlord provided.”

“Not a problem,” I say. “I move stuff around all the time. I’ll bring my van and we’ll store it for you until

you get settled. Now, go pack a suitcase and we’ll get you out of here, pronto.”

She blinks, her eyes watering. “I don’t know you. I don’t know any of you. You could be anyone.”

I tug my wallet from my jacket pocket. “Here, my card. Michael Summerford. I run the ‘Life and Fitness’

sports centre in the City, and the ‘Life and Beauty’ spa hotel. Go check me out. If you like, you can talk

to the police commissioner too. Will Stanton. He’ll confirm who I am. He’ll want to talk to you anyway,

but he can do that at the hotel.”

Shoving my wallet back in the pocket, “Let me have a look at this furniture of yours. Is there a service

lift?”

She huffs. “In a building this age? With the rent I pay? Not a chance.”

*****

Making the trek back down from Marty’s apartment to the front entrance, I measure stairways and

corners by eye, comparing them in my head with the bed, wardrobe and, as it turns out, the settee too.

At ground level, I check the front door. That at least, is straightforward. If we can get everything as far

as the bottom hall, it just needs walking out and down the front steps.

“How did you get the stuff up there in the first place?”

She pulls a face. “Came flat-packed.”

Standing out on the top step, I tap into my mobile. “Chad? You got anything important planned for

today?”

My self-defence trainer sounds cheerful enough. “Nothing that won’t wait. What’s happening?”

“Emergency house evacuation. I’ll fill you in later. But I need you to bring the van down into the City.

Come dressed to hump a wardrobe down three storeys…”

“Gotcha.” Humour creeps into his voice. “Twists and corners at every level, I suppose?”

“Got it in one.”

“Can I park outside?”

“Ahhh… Good question. Give me a second… Marty…” She’s listening intently… “Are we okay to park

the van outside?”

“You get two hours. After that, you need a resident’s permit.”

“Should be enough. Chad? Yes, we’re good. Here’s the address…”

*****

My phone rings: Will Stanton. Even through the earpiece, his voice booms. “Michael? What’s going on

down there?”

James’ head swivels and I tap onto loudspeaker. “… I’ve been talking to some woman who says you’re

moving her out of her apartment on Klempner’s say-so? How come I didn’t hear this from you? Or

Klempner?”

“My apologies, Will. He was specific that he didn’t want the police brought into it until he was sure he

had the Surgeon rather than just some random stalker.”

A pause then… “Alright. I get that. Where is he now? And where are you taking the woman, Martina is

it?”

“We’re moving Marty up to the hotel. If you want to interview her up there, I’ll make the facilities

available for you. As for Klempner, I’ve not a clue where he is. The last I heard from him, he told me he

was in pursuit.”

James moves in. “Will? James here. I know your instinct is to alert every squad car in the City, but can I

suggest, given that he’s got his finger on the pulse, that you at least wait until we hear back from

Klempner. I thoroughly bollixed his plans once before through undue interference. I’d not care to do it

again.”

Another pause… “The woman’s safe?”

“Absolutely. There will be at least one of us with her at all times, while we get her moved. And I’m sure

we’ll hear from Klempner as soon as he has something to tell us.”

“Very well. I’ll meet you at your place in say, an hour?”

“That’ll be fine. We’re just about ready to leave.”

*****

As the truck rattles out through the City traffic, my phone Pings with an incoming message: Klempner.

wot happening?

marty out. goin hotel. seeing stanton there. u?

lost him in hsptl. u called stanton?

girl did it. U cumin back?

no. get stanton chek pics agnst hosp staff

pics?

Seconds later, my message box rings with incoming photos: shots of Pat as seen in the Sapphire Club

and from some distance sitting at a cafe window.

*****

PAT

I have to see her.

I just have to.

Lily…

It’s risky, coming during the daylight…

But worth it.

It’s still early, barely mid-morning. But after the main rush of traffic and exiting workers, no one much is

around, and I loiter at the end of the road.

Knock on her door?

It might be a nice surprise for her…

Seeing a friendly face…

But while I turn the idea around in my head… she’s there…

At the top of the steps, standing in the doorway, she’s with someone. A man.

A man?

A man into your apartment…

This early?

Who is he?

Not a boyfriend…

I'd have seen him before.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

He’s standing right there, next to her, talking partly into a phone, partly to her. He’s a big, blond, bastard

and…

I’ve seen you before…

?

You were at the club last night…

And you’re here?

?

With her?

Lily…

…

…

Oh, my Lily…

You said you were a dancer…

Just a dancer…

But you brought him back here…

And you refused me…

…

It boils up. That calm that lies between euphoria and rage.

You're a hooker after all…

And that makes you mine.

*****

I walk, just walk, trying to take the edge off the heat and the anger. But it won’t go. The fury rises,

boiling up inside.

You lied. You lied to me.

Me!

I would have given you anything.

Anything.

Instead, I’ll give you what I gave all of them.

*****

How long will he stay?

A few hours. Surely no more.

Paying clients don’t hang around do they.

Not when they’re paying by the hour.

When to go back?

?

When will it be safe?

*****

She’s made me wait, with her pretence and her fake virtue.

Payback time.

I’m going to enjoy this.

I brought my ‘kit’. Parking up at the end of the road, where I have a view of the door, I wait.

Lily comes neither in or out.

It’s hot. Wayyy too hot. The roof of the car radiates heat like someone’s turned the thermostat up full

and I’m fucking baking. Every so often, I turn on the engine so I can run the air con. Then I turn it off

again in case anyone notices.

Should have brought some water with me…

I keep expecting Lily’s windows to fling open and let what passes for the fresh air into the place.

Still, I wait… And watch…

A man in paint-spattered overalls parks up and lets himself in. A few minutes later, a light comes on at

a second-floor window. But I see nothing at Lily’s window.

Surely there should be something? Movement inside. The flicker of a TV. Something…

It’s been hours. I know her habits. She usually goes out early afternoon to bring in groceries or just for

a walk. But still, there’s no sign of her. I don’t see her slut of a flatmate either.

No Lily. No flatmate. No big, blond bastard.

Nothing.

In the end, I let myself in.

Shoving my pick set back in a pocket, I make my way up the stairs. Passing the second floor, the

sounds of a football game spill from beyond the light-rimmed door.

On the third floor, I pause outside her apartment, listening. But there’s nothing beyond. No sound of TV

or music. Not even that shit of a cat she has.

I’ll wait inside…

The door unlocks even more easily than the first time I visited. But as I push at the battered plywood,

from behind me comes a Click. Then a creak and a clink. The door opposite opens to a four-inch crack

and a short link of chain.

Half a face peers through the gap. Rattails of hair hang in greasy strands, and she smells like an

uncleaned lavatory. “She’s gone.”

?

For an instant, I freeze over. “Gone? What d’you mean, gone?”

“Went today. Moved her furniture out. That flatmate of hers too.” Nodding down to my hand. “Landlord’ll

want that key back you’ve been using.” She coughs and wheezes. “Last time you wuz here, you said

you wuz her boyfriend. Andy, wasn’t it? She cackles. “Funny she didn’t tell you she was moving.”