Charlotte's Search - Box Set Three

Twenty-Six Years Ago

Twenty-Six Years Ago

Mitch sits on the cold slab. Eyes red-rimmed, hugging herself, she rocks on the seat.

The door clangs open.

“You…” The officer says no more, simply thumbing out of the door.

Out in the office the lawyer, Theo, stands waiting. Dark-suited, briefcase in hand, he regards Mitch without expression. “Miss Kimberley.”

The duty officer jabs a finger at a sheet. “Sign.”

Her eyes rise. “What’s happening?”

Theo says, “You’ve been bailed, but you and I need a talk. On behalf of Mr Devlin.”

“Please, I need to talk with Max himself.”

Curtly, “Mr Devlin does not want to talk to you, Miss Kimberley. He is a very busy man. He accepted your call and assigned me out to assist you. That is the extent of his involvement with you.” He sniffs. “I’ll not presume to guess why he did that much.” He turns, picks up his briefcase.

“Mr Aldred, please, just call him. I have to speak to him. Please…”

“Is it to do with this case?”

“Yes… No… Yes… It’s not what it looks like. I don’t take drugs. Truly, I don’t. I never have. And I certainly don’t sell them. I’m being framed.”

He c***s a brow. “It’s a bit weak isn’t it? Why would the police frame a common prostitute?”

Her head hangs. “I need to tell him about something… It’s not just me. There’s… there’s lives at stake. Young women.” She breathes the words. “I think they’re being trafficked.”

He lowers his lids, considering her. “And why didn’t you say this before? You had the opportunity.”

“Not in the police station. Somewhere private.” He hesitates. “Please. Just ask Max to give me half an hour. Twenty minutes. Please.”

Something in her tone penetrates. “Twenty minutes then. It had better be good. If I do this and you’re lying, I’ll be dog meat.”

“And somewhere we won’t be overheard.”

He nods; a short gesture. “Let me make a phone call.”

*****

An hour later, he accompanies her to the offices of Hofferman and Partners.

At the main door, uniformed guards stand. Theo displays ID, offers his briefcase for search to one guard. The other points to Mitch’s bag. “That too please, miss.” Then he waves across a woman in dark blue uniform.

“Arms and legs apart, please.” Mitch stands as hands frisk up and down, patting at arms, legs, hips and torso. Theo gets the same treatment from a male guard.

“Is it always like this?” she asks as her bag is returned.

“Romani case. High security.”

In the reception, secretary nods Theo through to an office, then with a chill glance at Mitch, points her to a seat. “Wait there, please.”

After only five minutes, the phone buzzes. The secretary answers then, “Go through please, Miss Kimberley. Mr Devlin is waiting for you.”

The office is huge, plush and darkly traditional. Theo sits to one side, ankle c****d onto a knee, poised with notebook and pen.

Max Devlin, whom she normally meets in less formal circumstances, sits behind an acre of green-leathered desk, face propped on thumb and forefinger. He doesn’t look friendly.

“Miss Kimberley. I have agreed to see you because what you have said to Mr Aldred here suggests a link to organised crime. That is the only reason. You have ten minutes of my time.”

She sucks inside her cheeks, trying to raise saliva. “Max… Mr Devlin… You see… I met a man; a client… Lawrence Klempner…

*****

Devlin relaxes back into the studded leather of his seat. “On your honour, Mitch, is all this true? If I take you at your word on this and follow it up to find you’re lying to me, I’ll throw you to the dogs.”

Considerably more than the ten minutes has passed. The secretary has served coffee which Mitch drinks as her porcelain cup rattles against its saucer. Theo puts down his pen, stretching aching fingers open and closed.

“Max, I promise you, it’s true. All of it.”

“Why didn’t you report it immediately?”

“I didn't know what to do, who to talk to. I didn't want to go to the police because...” She curls in on herself, turns small...”

He picks at a hangnail. “Because the police are usually unsympathetic towards prostitutes.”

“Yes.” She cringes inside. “I thought too, that to have gotten it so far; to have something like Blessingmoors running… so large, so prominent, Larry must know someone. Maybe someone important…” Max nods slowly… “I was trying to decide what to do when the police arrived. I’d already thought I might call you. Ask your advice…” Her voice splinters. “Max, I was so frightened. I still am. They just kicked my door in and…” Her fragile veneer cracks and the tears come. The shakes come. Face dropping, she shudders terror and grief and helplessness into her hands.

Awkwardly, the two men watch her.

After a minute, Max scratches at the bridge of his nose, then sighs, thumbing towards the door. “Theo, go find something else to do for ten minutes.”

As the door closes again, Max moves from behind his desk, perches a hip by Mitch and takes her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. “Mitch, I’ll help. The first thing I’ll do is see what I can learn about your Lawrence Klempner. Do you have a photo of him?”

Her head swings. “No. He was a client…”

“And the clients of courtesans don’t like photos…” His brow c***s, mouth quirking… “Or if they do, I’m guessing they pay extra?”

She raises the ghost of a smile.

He continues, “It’s not a problem. There was a lot of publicity around opening Blessingmoors. I’m sure I’ll track something down I can follow. Meanwhile…” His fingers tighten around hers. “Meanwhile, we’re going to get you out of sight. Book you into a hotel. I’ll get you taxi’d there, then you keep your door locked. Don't let anyone in unless you are very sure of who they are. I'll make some checks and see what I can learn.”

*****