Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
Finchby is waiting when I arrive, with his slicked-back hair and that garish medallion he seems convinced looks good. “Larry, great to see you.” He flashes his usual fake smile, the single gold tooth winking. “So, what do you have for me?”
“Bech, can you bring them through please?”
Bech shouts through the door. “First one.”
She’s led through; a pretty little thing. Some variety of half-cast by the look of her; honey-skinned with hair that drapes her shoulders in glossy black ringlets, and amber-gold eyes that dart one way, then another between Finchby, myself and Bech. The cuffs around her ankles drag at her feet, but otherwise, she looks healthy enough.
“Unusual looks,” comments Finchby. “Quite exotic. Where’s she from?”
“She was on the last shipment
