Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

An hour later, he accompanies her to the offices of Hofferman and Partners.

At the main door, uniformed guards stand. Theo displays ID, offers his briefcase for search to one guard. The other points to Mitch’s bag. “That too please, miss.” Then he waves across a woman in dark blue uniform.

“Arms and legs apart, please.” Mitch stands as hands frisk up and down, patting at arms, legs, hips and torso. Theo gets the same treatment from a male guard.

“Is it always like this?” she asks as her bag is returned.

“Romani case. High security.”

In the reception, secretary nods Theo through to an office, then with a chill glance at Mitch, points her to a seat. “Wait there, please.”

After only five minutes, the phone buzzes. The secretary answers then, “Go through please, Miss Kimberley. Mr Devlin is waiting for you.”

The office is huge, plush and darkly traditional. Theo sits to one side, ankle cocked onto a knee, poised with notebook and pen.

Max Devlin, whom she normally meets in less formal circumstances, sits behind an acre of green-leathered desk, face propped on thumb and forefinger. He doesn’t look friendly.

“Miss Kimberley. I have agreed to see you because what you have said to Mr Aldred here suggests a link to organised crime. That is the only reason. You have ten minutes of my time.”

She sucks inside her cheeks, trying to raise saliva. “Max… Mr Devlin… You see… I met a man; a client… Lawrence Klempner…

*****

Devlin relaxes back into the studded leather of his seat. “On your honour, Mitch, is all this true? If I take you at your word on this and follow it up to find you’re lying to me, I’ll throw you to the dogs.”

Considerably more than the ten minutes has passed. The secretary has served coffee which Mitch drinks as her porcelain cup rattles against its saucer. Theo puts down his pen, stretching aching fingers open and closed.

promise you, it’s true.

didn’t you report

didn't want to go to the police because...”

picks at a hangnail. “Because the

nods slowly… “I was trying to decide what to do when the police arrived. I’d already thought I might call you. Ask your advice…” Her voice splinters. “Max, I was so

two men

minute, Max scratches at the bridge of his nose, then sighs, thumbing towards

weaving his fingers between hers. “Mitch, I’ll help. The first thing I’ll do is see what I can learn about your Lawrence Klempner.

“No. He was a

His brow cocks, mouth quirking… “Or if they

raises the ghost of a

I’m sure I’ll track something down I can follow. Meanwhile…” His fingers tighten around hers. “Meanwhile, we’re going to get you out of sight. Book you into a hotel.

***** 

Michael

Book-keeping and accounts…

hate

a week to do the day-to-day work; booking in receipts, sending out invoices and quotes, all that stuff. But once a month, like it or not,

hotel and the City centre, there’s twice

*sigh*

through my brain, not just my eyes. So, I check the ratios: overheads cost per client, number of staff per client, mark-up on purchases versus

on the settee by the fire, laptop propped on my knees, I work through it

own

sip of the excellent malt which sits

Calculator…

it’s some feat of magic that will conjure up the object if I say it often