*****

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

Oh, God…

you

“I think so, Master. It’s too early I know, but I

It’s way too

Master. But, I’m pretty

stay calm. I’m just going to

Calm…

Stay calm…

*****

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

Elizabeth is going

“She’s not due for another… what,

weeks. Mitch, there’s no way I

your clinic. Tell them you’re on your way with her. I’ll bring your car to the front, get the engine turning over, then it’s warm when

*****

Michael

a cautious moment, Klempner and

is stale, musty with cigarette smoke, the walls and ceiling perhaps

trying hard not to actually touch anything.

mutters Klempner. But he regards the hovel of a room,

women as prostitutes, but he

by me, watching the screen with half an eye, the

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

moving at its

lip.

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

know they're on camera?”

and Mighty there. Good blackmail material if he ever has any problems

again: a corridor lined by a series of barred and padlocked doors. Each door has a small viewing window.

doors say ‘cells’ to me,”

either working or locked up until he’s sure he

to

words, finding myself simply staring at

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

course,

image shifts

corner of the screen, it’s

gorge rises. “Oh,

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