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.

Klempner cuts across, sprinting for the exit. Silhouetted against the

the car screams down the aisle, up the ramp, adding to the black-burned stripes on the pitted concrete. Slamming his fist onto the horn, it shrieks defiance as the car rockets to the exit. At

up off the tarmac, cursing, he runs after them, squinting into the sunshine but already the traffic

wheezing behind. “We can’t let them go. I’ll

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 thing you

Bech hisses through his

my boot

*****

Charlotte

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

I interrupt her. “Yes, I’m here,

down here for you. A Mr Maurio Vincenzo. He says

Master cocks a questioning

lawyers who handled

earth could they

he say what

speak with

“Yes, of course.”

Master, frowning, “You don’t have anything outstanding from your divorce

see how I could. And if there was anything,

in his cheeks. “Would you like me

want to

would like to, yes, of

doors Ssshhhh… open and a man wearing a dark grey suit and a professional manner steps out. He glances

“That’s right.”

“Maurio Vincenzo. You dealt with my father when he handled your

shake it. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a bit baffled though. Surely everything to do with

to do with your divorce, but another matter entirely. Although it was your estranged husband who informed us where we could

now, Charlotte. The conference room is

follows us in, to the sidelong glance

“It’s fine,” I say.

all,” says Vincenzo, clicking open his briefcase, “I mean no offence, but you and I have not met before and I must establish your identity. I understand you are currently known as ‘Charlotte Summerford’, but my father dealt

“That’s right.”

can prove

I need to. But why should

now, could you please give me your signature as

divorce,” he comments. “And that’s fine, Mrs Summerford. Now…” He

“Right… So?”

holds up the document, punctuating his words with it. “So, I hold here the will deposited with my firm

and my Master stirs

old school-teacher I

throat tightens. “Yes, I