James
My phone dances across the table-top, vibing and ringing; Michael again. Klempner taps it on, and then to loudspeaker again.
Michael's voice shrieks out; distraught, utterly panic-stricken. “Klempner, you f*****g bastard! What have you done with them?”
Klempner blinks, jerks a look to me then back the phone. “Michael, what are you talking about?”
“If you've hurt her, I'll kill you. I swear I will. Where is she? There’s blood on her bag. She…”
My heart jolting, the nausea, which had subsided, floods up again. “Michael, calm down. Whatever it is, calm down enough to tell me. What’s happened?”
His voice snatches and breaks, gulping between sentences. “I went back to the tearoom. The waitress who served them says they left with a man. I found their bags. All three of them. James, t
