Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Mitch

She descends the stairs as if the devil is behind her…

He is…

She risks a look up; the briefest of glances. She can’t see him, but the clang of pursuit echoes above her.

And she runs…

Down two stories, three. Almost to ground level… and there… As she hits tarmac… a door close by… An emergency exit swings open, a body erupting out of it…

Frank.

He canons into her, grabbing her by the waist, swinging her around.

“Mitch…”

“Don’t stop.” She jerks a head up to where Klempner rattles down the steps after her. “Where’s your car?”

“Basement, but the keys…”

“Got them. Move.”

The pair swerve, u-turning back into the stairwell, barrelling downwards. From above, the sound of a slamming door; echoing boots on concrete

They burst into the parking lot.

“Where?” She peers into the low dark space.

“There.” He points, still running, snatching at her wrist, towing her along. From behind another crash from a swinging door. From off-side, Bech appears with Malory, both with guns in their hands.

The pair dash from one grey concrete pillar to another; stooping, running at a crouch, dodging between corridors of vehicles; vans, station wagons, saloons… Then, a sports car; shiny, bright red and low…

A crack behind her. A whistle…

Mitch shrieks and drops as the bullet skids over the door of the two-seater, taking paintwork with it…

Klempner’s voice, reverberating through the low space. “Put the fucking gun down. Hurt her and I’ll gut you.”

… but she keeps moving…

Frank is ahead of her. For a moment he skids, foot sliding over a patch of oil. Slipping, he falls but catches himself on the handle of the nearest door, then, “There… Keys!”

She tosses them across and twisting, he catches them one-handedly, pointing ahead to his own 4x4. Lights flash orange, beeping and the crunch of disengaging locks resound through the low-ceilinged space.

She tumbles into the passenger seat.

“Stay down.” Frank engages and with the screech of tortured rubber, the car careens down the ranks of vehicles.

Malory race behind, but Klempner cuts across, sprinting for the exit. Silhouetted against the daylight he

to the black-burned stripes on the pitted concrete. Slamming his fist onto the horn, it shrieks defiance as the car

them, squinting into the sunshine but already the traffic has

up with him, Malory wheezing behind. “We can’t let them go. I’ll find

man drops, grunting and clutching his gut. Klempner lashes out with a foot, planting his boot in Bech’s ribs. “Use a gun near her again and it will be the last

on himself, Bech hisses through his teeth, winded;

be more than my boot in your guts. Now

*****

Charlotte

buzzes. “Francis, it’s Kirstie. I’m trying to find

reply, but I interrupt her. “Yes,

down here for you. A Mr Maurio Vincenzo. He says he’s from Vincenzo and

cocks a

lawyers who handled my

earth could they

say what it’s about,

speak with you.

“Yes, of course.”

have

don’t see how I could. And if there was anything, I’m sure Chad

“Would you like

want to sit in with

would like to, yes, of

a man wearing a dark grey suit and a professional manner steps out. He glances around,

“That’s right.”

hand outstretched. “Maurio Vincenzo. You dealt

hand, shake it. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a bit baffled though.

Although it was your estranged husband who informed us where

conference room is free all morning.” She gestures across. “If you’ll go through, Mr

follows us in, to the sidelong glance

“It’s fine,” I say.

and I have not met before and I must establish your identity. I understand you are currently known as

“That’s right.”

can

I need to. But why should I

now, could you please give me your signature

holding up the paper. “Your original petition for divorce,” he comments. “And that’s fine, Mrs Summerford. Now…” He takes out another document. “As to why I am here. As I mentioned, my firm was contacted recently by your ex-husband, Charles Bennett, to inform us that he had relocated you after he, and we, lost track of you for some

“Right… So?”

I hold here the will deposited with my

clutches and my Master

Kalkowski…” Vincenzo looks over the rim of his spectacles at me…” Your old school-teacher I understand…” He hesitates.

tightens. “Yes, I