*****

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?”

apart. I didn’t want to disturb you until I was sure,

Oh, God…

you going into

nods. “I think so, Master. It’s too

early? It’s

know, Master. But, I’m pretty

I’m just

Calm…

Stay calm…

*****

kitchen, screwing the top onto a flask. “Hot coffee,” she says. “And I’ve packed sandwiches for you and…” Her voice trails off as she sees my

is going into

raises a hand to her mouth. “She’s not

Mitch, there’s no

bring your car to the front, get the

*****

Michael

a cautious

ceiling perhaps

by Finchby, trying hard not to actually

mutters Klempner. But he regards the hovel of a

the laptop closer. “Okay, so he runs the women as prostitutes, but he must be worth

seat by me, watching

looks like an entrance lobby, then a dance floor, various corridors... Each

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

chewing on his lower lip. “Nothing from

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

if the clients know they're on camera?” I

City High and Mighty there. Good blackmail material if he

barred and padlocked doors. Each

‘cells’ to

them either working

used to

for words, finding myself simply staring

my past. I’m not going to spend every waking

of course,

shifts

a corner of the

rises. “Oh,

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