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. All

you report it

to do, who to talk to. I didn't want to go to the police because...” She curls in on herself, turns

“Because the police are

have gotten it so far; to have something like Blessingmoors running… so large, so prominent, Larry must know someone. Maybe someone important…” Max 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 frightened. I still am. They just kicked my door in and…” Her fragile veneer cracks and the tears come. The shakes come. Face dropping, she shudders terror and grief and helplessness into her

two men watch

at the bridge of his nose, then sighs, thumbing towards the

door closes again, Max moves from behind his desk, perches a hip by Mitch and takes her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. “Mitch, I’ll help. The first thing

head swings. “No. He was a

cocks, mouth quirking… “Or if they do, I’m guessing

raises the ghost of

around opening Blessingmoors. 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. I’ll get you taxi’d there, then you keep your door locked. Don't let anyone

***** 

Michael

Book-keeping and accounts…

bloody hate the

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, I

having both the spa hotel and the City centre, there’s

*sigh*

ensuring the numbers pass through my brain, not just my eyes. So, I

propped on my knees, I work through

own home. My

excellent malt which sits on

Calculator…

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