Chapter 5

“How d’you feel about your knees, Frank? Attached to them, are you? You’re not going to be needing them anymore after all.” Klempner raises a finger to McCullen, about to speak when the door opens.

Bech strolls in. “Got a little bonus for you.” The small girl tucked into the crook of his arm glares at Klempner.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, struggling against the tight grip around her, banging tiny fists against his chest. Bech snorts a laugh, puts her down and she runs, wrapping arms around Frank’s legs. “Daddy!” she cries, tearing flooding down her cheeks.

Klempner looks down at the little red-haired figure…

Conners’ little bitch…

“Not much to look at is she? Considering her mother. Scrawny.” He tugs at a random sprout of hair. Green eyes look back up at him, full of hate.

Bech shrugs then snorts, jerking his head at Frank, desperately Mmm Mmmming behind the tape. “It comes from the father too, don’t forget.” Bech regards him, eyes narrowing, then with a jerk punches into the soft exposed belly. “Shut the fuck up, Mr Conners. No one wants to hear it.”

Klempner watches, dispassionate, his gaze passing between father and daughter. “She got a name?”

“Jennifer, I believe.”

“And where did you find her?”

“Conners’ car’s parked just outside the complex. Probably the mother followed me.”

“Then she’s still around. Go find her. Take…”

“Already done. I sent Patterson to go watch the car. I’ll take Muller now to help me search.”

“Good work, Bech. One of your better days.

*****

Mitch circles the grim building, looking for some weak point.

A man appears, walking back in the direction she came from. She doesn’t recognise him.

Mitch retreats back into the shadows, pressing herself flat against the wall. paralysed by indecision.

Is he one of them?

“Daddy!” The cry echoes across the yard. Jenny!

Mitch freezes, her heart double-timing against her ribs.

The man doesn’t even blink at the cry of distress; just keeps walking, around the corner and out of sight.

The wail repeats. “Daddy…”

Jenny… Oh, God. They’ve got Jenny…

She’s inside…

… Somewhere…

Heedless of whether she is seen, Mitch dashes, following the sound. She can't breathe. A pulse pounds behind her ears. Her lungs won't move properly. Blackness creeps to the edges of her vision.

But still she runs.

Boarded-up windows; some carrying phone numbers and the logos for security companies;

Walls, graffitied, green-streaked from broken gutters, posters flapping loose, displaying faded images and unlikely names for rock bands.

Mitch keeps running.

The sound is louder. A child’s howl then a man’s muffled scream...

She sees it: at ground level, the vault-light to some cellar. Half the lenses have gone. Most of the rest are broken. Some of the sockets sit empty. The frame is badly corroded; eaten away by time and neglect. But through gaps…

“Daaddyyy…”

Another scream. Again muffled.

Closer she moves, and closer; drawn like a rabbit to a snake.

Voices…

Through cloudy glass and layers of dirt, blurred figures move.

Where’s the sun?

Her shadow on the glass…

Mitch drops to hands and knees, angles, peers down through one of the empty sockets and in.

Frank: strung up like a pig for slaughter, mouth taped, both eyes swollen, one almost closed. He hangs, hauled too high to properly stand on his feet, weight taken by his wrists. His chest heaves like bellows but mouth sealed, his breathing is laboured. Blood drips to the stone floor.

Mitch shifts her position, peers down at a different view.

Larry…

Smiling. Looking cheerful.

Her Lover…

She shifts again…

This time, Bech, holding Jenny by the wrist. She’s fighting and screaming but, two years old? She has no chance of real resistance.

There’s other figure too, male, moving around.

How many are there?

Mitch backs away, panic battering inside.

Calm down…

You can't help her if you don't calm down...

... And think…

That front door?

Heavyweight, steel…

Guarded…

It's open, but if she goes that way, they're bound to see her.

Another way then.

How can she get to Jenny?

... and Frank.

Everything is barred, sealed tight. They must have broken in.

Like sunlight bursting through clouds…

They must have broken in...

Running on adrenaline, fear and hope, Mitch dashes back the way she came.

*****

“What d’you want done with her?” Bech tilts his head to the toddler, raises brows, draws a forefinger across his throat.

Kempner pauses, plucking at his lower lip, then, “No, I’ll take her back to Blessingmoors. Pick out one of the women… not one of the pretty ones… Tell her she’s on creche duties. As long as she’s looking after the kid, she’s excused other work.”

Bech blinks. “Sir?”

“It’ll draw in the mother, Bech. I want her alive.” He turns to Frank. “And we’ll see what happens after that shall we, Frank? I’ll have to be inventive about what happens to your daughter, eh?” He cocks his head and winks.

From behind the tape come muffled gurgles.

“What was that, Frank?” Klempner cups a hand to an ear. “I can’t hear what you’re saying. But then, who gives a fuck?”

Bech regards Jenny with a flat gaze. “Y’know, it’s worth thinking about. There’s a market out there for the kids. Not just the adults. And there’s always plenty of them available. Especially from some of those third-world dumps.”

Klempner follows his gaze, inclines his head. “You might have a point. And who knows what they might grow up into?” He inhales, rubs the back of his head. “Put her in the car. Then go make your search. Take Muller with you. If you find her as well, Bech, I’ll give you a raise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

*****