*****

Richard

My mobile rings. I snatch it up. “Yes, Ross?”

“I've lost contact with James. They've made him leave the phone behind when they sent him on the next leg…”

Fuck…

How do we help him now?

“… And the earpiece. And…” Ross’ voice is shaky… “Richard... They… the kidnappers I mean… they spoke to me via the connection. I recorded it all. I'm playing it back to you.”

Klempner. You know who this is.

Just like you to let this tired old bastard run the gauntlet. But that's just you all over isn't it. Letting someone else take the heat.

We'll have the money very shortly. And believe me, it had better be all the money in that bag. But the deal’s not sealed until we have you too. Until then, that darling daughter of yours is going nowhere.

The voice snaps off. There’s a moment’s hiss then Ross speaks again. “Richard, what do you want me to do? Should I call the police?”

“No… don’t do that. If they think the police are involved, they’ll almost certainly murder Charlotte… and her baby… before Michael and Klempner can get to her.”

“What then?”

What indeed?

Should I go?

Leave Mitch to look after Elizabeth?

*****

How do I tell her this?

Wearily, I climb the stairs to find my sleeping wife.

But she’s not sleeping. “Elizabeth… There’s been a development. Ross has…” I stop, mid-sentence. “Elizabeth?”

From the pillow, she stares up at me, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, Master…”

“Sorry? Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

about fifteen minutes apart. I didn’t want to disturb you until I was sure, but…

Oh, God…

you going into

It’s too early I know, but

It’s

Master. But,

calm. I’m just

Calm…

Stay calm…

*****

the top onto a flask. “Hot coffee,” she says. “And

think Elizabeth is

mouth. “She’s not due for

there’s no way I can

I’ll bring your

*****

Michael

cautious moment, Klempner and I enter the

the walls and ceiling perhaps once

not

mutters Klempner. But he regards the hovel of

as prostitutes, but he must be worth plenty. What's the point in being wealthy

seat by me, watching the screen with half an

quartered screen flicks between shots of what looks like an entrance lobby, then a dance floor, various corridors...

unresponsive, moving at its

his lower lip. “Nothing from the basement so

of couples, triples and more; rooms where girls ‘entertain’

clients know they're on

at the screen. “Some of the City High and Mighty there. Good blackmail material

corridor lined by a series of barred and

say ‘cells’ to

agreement. “Yes… Finchby tends to keep them either working or locked up until he’s sure he has

to

for words, finding myself simply staring at

doesn’t turn from the screen. “Michael, you know my past. I’m not going to spend every waking moment apologising for it. Now… shall we get

course,

shifts

there, in a corner

gorge rises.

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