Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Chapter 6

*****

 

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

Oh, God…

are you going

so, Master. It’s too

early? It’s

know, Master. But,

I’m just going to

Calm…

Stay calm…

*****

says. “And I’ve packed sandwiches for you and…” Her voice trails off as she sees

is

her mouth. “She’s not

there’s no way I

way with her. I’ll bring your car to the front, get the engine turning over, then

*****

 

Michael

after a cautious moment, Klempner

and ceiling perhaps once white but now yellowed and draped with dusty

Finchby, trying hard not to actually touch anything. “You'd think

he regards the hovel of a room,

“Okay, so he runs the women as prostitutes, but he must be worth plenty. What's the point in being wealthy if you live like

nothing, simply pulling up the other seat by me, watching the

entrance lobby, then a dance floor, various corridors... Each quarter displays a

return, but the feed is unresponsive, moving at its own pace. “He’s got plenty of cameras around the

lower lip.

triples and more; rooms where girls ‘entertain’ their clients. L4a,

the clients know they're

of the City High and Mighty there. Good blackmail material if

a corridor lined by a series of barred and padlocked doors. Each door

‘cells’

to keep them either working or locked up until he’s sure

used to

words, finding myself simply staring at him,

my past. I’m not going to spend every waking moment apologising for it. Now… shall we get on with

of course,

shifts once

a corner

rises. “Oh,

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