The Lover's Children

Chapter 97 – Summer’s Inferno – Part 7

KLEMPNER

Lorelei clips along in black, dagger-heeled, vinyl boots. Somehow, she manages to chew gum and

smoke at the same time. I stroll along beside her. “Where are we going?”

“Few streets along, toward the Square. Coupla girls I know there saw a guy there might fit your bill.

C’mon, it’s only a five-minute walk.”

Pointed looks shoot my way as I accompany an obvious street-hooker.

Lorelei talks from the side of her mouth. “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“That I’m a hooker.”

“Not in the least.”

“How come?”

“Everyone has to earn a living. Yours is an honest trade.”

She draws a whistle between her teeth. “It’s not everyone sees it that way.”

“I’ve met enough genuine bad bastards to know the difference between a criminal and someone who’s

just trying to get through life.”

She halts mid-step, turns and stares at me. Then she smiles. “You’re okay. You know that?”

“I’m pleased you think so.” I offer a hand the way we were heading… “Shall we move on…”

Lorelei’s ‘five-minute walk’ takes us through the kind of shopping street frequented by the City High-

and-Mighty. Acres of polished brass and plate glass are haunted by women wearing thousands in

fashion bling. They fall into two groups. Some appear to be designer-dressed famine victims. The

remainder have apparently eaten the food the first half missed. A few are accompanied by male

partners, presumably with the single duty of producing the wallet on cue.

A prime example Tuts as we pass: tubby, scrub-faced and over-dressed. A man accompanies her, be-

suited, be-spectacled, and with cost-accountant stamped on his forehead. As he opens a car door, she

struggles inside, arranging her inflated ass on the back seat. “Well! It’s coming to something when that

type comes through this area.”

Lorelei throws her a look, then with a puff of the cheeks, launches her gum at the car. Arcing through

the air, it lands in the gutter under the door. “What’s ya problem lard-ass? Hubby too busy shafting his

clients to do you? Send him to me. I’ll sort him out. Cost ya fifty.”

I keep a straight face, looking rigidly forward. As we move on, Lorelei talks out of the corner of her

mouth. “Sorry about that. Gets on my tits when they talk that way.”

“Couldn’t agree more. She doesn’t look like she’s worked a day in her life.”

She flicks me a glance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But don’t get yourself a fine for littering.”

She sniffs and pulls a draw from her cigarette. “Y’know, you’re not what I expected from your rep.”

“No? What does my rep say?”

“That you’re a shit-faced bad-ass.”

“I’m trying to move on from the shit-faced part.”

She snorts, then nods forward. “There’s Donna. She’s expecting us.”

At the corner ahead of us, a blonde watches the street, first one way toward the Square, then back

along the road toward the shopping centre. Her hair dark at the roots, a scarlet vinyl halter-neck stacks

her assets up and forward. Short to begin with, and top-heavy as she is, she appears even shorter.

“I thought it was two women we were meeting?”

“Yeah. They work as a team. That’s their pitch. But I don’t see Angie. She’s prob’ly with a john.”

“Their pitch? It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it? A spot like that. So close to the upmarket end of town? I’d have

thought the police would move them along.”

“Happens all the time. Cops turn up, they disappear.”

The woman sees us approaching, raises a hand…” “Hi, Lori.” … but eyes me with poorly veiled

suspicion. “This him then?”

“Yup. Donna, this is Larry that I told you about. He’s looking for this murdering freak that’s loose in the

City.” She lights another cigarette, offers the packet.

Donna accepts one then, as Lorelei leans forward, cigarette in mouth, offering the glowing tip, a light.

The two women are almost head-to-head before Donna inhales, blows smoke my way, then addresses

me. “Lori here says you’re looking for a guy that gives off bad vibes?”

“I am, yes. What can you tell me?”

She gestures up and down the road. “There’s plenty out there, but yeah, there's one in particular.

Sounds like what Lori told us. Jeans and a grey hoodie? That right?”

“That’s right.”

“He wasn't interested in me...” She coughs, hacks, then draws smoke again before she resumes. “It

was Angie he wanted. But she didn’t want to know.”

“What does Angie look like?”

Donna blinks at the question, then, “Um… tall.” She raises a hand, measuring the air, almost to my

eye-level. “Lot taller ‘n me. And she has this whippy kinda figure.”

She draws back her shoulders, pushes out her chest, making the most of Nature’s gifts and displaying

more cleavage than I want to see. “Angie, she’s a bit flat up top. Has to wear a pusher-upper…” She

cups under her tits, rounding and raising them in demonstration. “She’s all legs and ass, y’know the

type?”

“Yes, I know the type. What’s her hair like?”

“Long. Dark brown.” She drops a hand to mid-hip level. “She’s got great hair. Gotta admit, it gives me

the green-eye, her hair. Musta taken her years to grow it.” She pauses, looking around, frowning.

“Thought she’d be back by now.”

“Anything else?” I ask

“Like what?”

“How does Angie dress, when she’s working?”

“She’s the classy type. Y’know, doesn’t show off too much at once.” She winks, elbowing me in the ribs.

“Likes to keep them guessing what she’s selling.”

“She smoke or drink? She on anything?”

“Doesn’t smoke or do drugs. Doesn’t drink so as ya’d notice.”

Lorelei breaks in. “Larry, does this mean anything to you?”

“So far, Angie sounds like just the type the Surgeon’s going after.” Her mouth falls slack. So does

Donna’s. “What did he look like? The man you’re talking about.”

Donna scrapes her chin from the sidewalk. “Kinda… ordinary. Nothing you’d notice. Hard to describe.”

“Try. Was he tall? Short?”

“Um… Sorta in the middle, I s’pose. Taller ‘n me, but not so tall as Angie.”

“Age? Young? Old?”

“Um… mid-thirty-ish. Maybe forty.”

“Skin colour? White? Black? Asian?”

“He was white, and his hair was kinda mid-brown.”

“Curly? Straight? Shoulder length? Longer? Shorter?”

“Straight. And about like yours, but no beard. He was just… ordinary.”

“So, what happened with this ordinary man? Angie refused him, you say. She didn't like the colour of

his money?”

“Dunno about his money.” She huffs. “Money’s money. It all pays the rent. But there was… something

about him. He was too pushy, I thought. He made my skin crawl. Angie said the same, after he’d

gone...” She trails off…

I remain silent…

Wait…

There’s something else…

Donna looks down, toes at the ground. “It was… in the way he… looked… at you…” She shrugs,

looking sheepish. “Sounds stupid I know.”

“No, it doesn’t sound stupid at all. We all have to listen to our gut. Even more so for you, given what

you do for a living. If this man was giving off bad vibes, you did just the right thing.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I think.”

“So, you reckon this was your guy? The killer?”

“I’ve no hard proof, but it certainly sounds like the man I’m looking for. If you see him again, I’d like you

to take a photo and send it to me immediately. Will you do that?”

“Sure.” She brightens. “Hey, ya mean… I can help with the hunt? I’m kinda like… an investigator?”

“That’s right. You’re an investigator… A…” I stumble over my words…

What’s that phrase they use now?

“… A citizen journalist.”

She beams, but after a few moments, her smile withers. “You really think this guy might be the

Surgeon?”

“I think he may well be.”

“That’s… scary.”

“Good. If this is the man I’m looking for, you should be scared. Do you know how to defend yourself?”

“Some.” She sucks at her lips, blinking. “I do a bit of self defence training. It helps keep me fit. Tones up

the muscles.”

“Good for you. But if you encounter him again, don't try to fight unless you have to. Unless he has you

cornered, you run. And you scream while you’re running. Make sure all the world hears you.”

Her eyes dart one way, then the other. “Where is Angie? She’d usually be back by now.” Brow

creasing, she scans the street.

“Why don’t you give her a call. Check she’s okay. I’ll wait here while you do.”

Donna blinks rapidly, taps into a mobile, holds it to her ear.

The tinny sound of a ring tone carries…

And carries…

One long, red-painted fingernail taps at the phone casing…

Then, “Angie? Angie! You okay?” Donna’s eyes fling wide. “You’ve binna while…. Yeah? Great. Well,

keep in touch. Get your ass back here when you’re done. Yeah… sure.” Her smile returns, relief written

large. “See ya later.”

She taps off the phone. “She’s fine. Got an extra when her john’s friend turned up.”

“So, she’s had a good day,” I say. “Angie can knock off early tonight. Listen, Donna, take my number…”

… I pat my pockets for something to write on. Lorelei rips the top from her cigarette packet, passes it to

me with a pen.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

“…If you see this man again, call me. But your friend… He showed interest in her. I’ll repeat…” I lay a

fingertip on the hollow of her collarbone… “… Your Angie fits the profile for the Surgeon’s victims. If he

does show, don’t let her go with him. Don’t leave her alone with him.”

I scribble contact details onto the scrap of card. “Get the photo if you can and send it to me. Circulate it

among the other women too. Then, if they see him, they’ve been warned. If he appears anywhere, I

want to know about it, immediately.”

She hesitates. “Could be late night. Or early hours of the morning.”

“Not a problem. There’s a good chance I’ll be up anyway while I’m working this. If I’m not, I’m staying in

a city centre apartment right now. If it’s two in the morning, it doesn’t matter. Contact me.”

She straightens. Lifts her chin. “Will do.”

Lorelei nudges me. “C’mon. I want to spread the word. See who else has spotted this creep.”

As we turn to leave, a shout follows us. “Hey, Larry.” I turn back. Donna gives me a bright smile.

“Thanks. You need anything… Anytime. You call me.”

“I’ll do that.”

*****

JAMES

As we drive back, Charlotte, in the passenger seat beside me, is quiet. In the rear-view mirror, I see

Michael watching her, surreptitiously.

Reaching forward, he taps her on the shoulder. “Hey, when we get back, what say we take Cara to feed

the chicks? They’re getting pretty well grown now. She’s asking all the time when they’re going to start

laying eggs. Beth could come too, with Adam.”

She smiles. “Yeah, sure…” But her cheerfulness sounds forced.

“And you can tell me where I can lay out another run for them. If we set it up near your veggie patches,

you’ll be able to feed a lot of stuff to them direct.”

Her forehead crinkles. “What sort of stuff?”

“Oh… Cabbage leaves. Some of the weeds. That sort of thing.”

Her face clears. “Yes, of course. I should have thought of that myself.”

But still, she doesn’t sound as she should.

Back home, Michael decants Charlotte from the car and ‘takes charge’, ushering her indoors. I’m happy

enough to leave him to it. Chickens and toddlers aside, I don’t doubt he’ll find a way at some point to

get her on her own for another round in the ritual of lets-make-a-baby.

*****