*****

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… I am

Oh, God…

are you going

too early I know, but I think

It’s way too

Master. But, I’m

stay calm. I’m just going to talk

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

is going into

“She’s

there’s no

can’t. Call your clinic. Tell them you’re on your way with her. I’ll bring your car to the front, get the

*****

Michael

a cautious moment, Klempner and

ceiling perhaps once

the chair recently occupied by Finchby, trying hard not to

Klempner. But he regards the

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

up the other seat by me, watching the screen

like an entrance lobby, then a

is unresponsive, moving at its own pace.

lip. “Nothing from the basement

views shift to one room after another of couples, triples and more; rooms where girls

clients know

of the City High and Mighty there. Good

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

‘cells’

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

to

simply staring

Klempner realises I’m watching him. He doesn’t turn from the screen. “Michael, you know my past. I’m not going to spend every waking moment apologising

of course,

image shifts once

there, in a corner

rises.

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