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.

exit. Silhouetted against the daylight he stands, legs akimbo, arms outspread…

gas, 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 the last moment, Klempner

squinting into the sunshine but already the traffic

Bech catches up with him, Malory wheezing behind. “We

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 do. Understand me? Hurt her and I’ll finish

in on himself, Bech hisses through his

my boot in your

*****

Charlotte

I’m trying

I interrupt

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

Master cocks a questioning

lawyers who handled my

on earth could they

what it’s about,

with you. Should I send him

“Yes, of course.”

“You don’t have anything outstanding from your divorce

there was anything, I’m sure Chad would have

you like

want to

you would like to, yes, of

Ssshhhh… open and a man wearing a dark grey suit and

“That’s right.”

forward, hand outstretched. “Maurio Vincenzo. You dealt with my father when

shake it. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a

“This isn’t to do with your divorce, but another matter entirely. Although it was your estranged husband who informed

just now, Charlotte. The conference room is free all morning.” She gestures across. “If you’ll go through,

Master follows us in, to the sidelong glance

“It’s fine,” I say.

you are currently known as ‘Charlotte Summerford’, but my father dealt with one ‘Jennifer Conners’. I have

“That’s right.”

you can prove

to. But why

give me your signature as

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

“Right… So?”

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

stomach clutches and my Master stirs

his spectacles at me…” Your old school-teacher I understand…” He hesitates. “As you probably know,

tightens. “Yes, I knew

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