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.

it’s

didn’t you

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

picks at a hangnail. “Because the police

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

two

bridge of his nose, then sighs, thumbing towards the door. “Theo, go

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 I’ll do is see what I can learn about your Lawrence Klempner. Do you have a photo

swings. “No. He

like photos…” His brow cocks,

raises the ghost of a

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

***** 

Michael

Book-keeping and accounts…

bloody hate

for a few hours 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,

spa hotel and the City centre, there’s

*sigh*

some parts of it manually, ensuring the numbers pass 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 sales

the fire, laptop propped on my knees, I work through it all. And,

Comfort. My own home. My own

excellent malt which sits on the small table

Calculator…

repeating the word as though it’s some feat of