“Yes, Zachary did what nobody else seemed to be capable of doing, which was coming to me and actually telling me what was going on.”
“Is he okay?” said Lily. When her eyes filled with tears, I suddenly regretted my abrasive tone. She clearly cared for the boy.
“He’s fine, Lily, no physical injuries that I could see. He told me about the Big Terrible Thing. I’m sure you two know about it as well, but he’s terrified for his sister. Now, I’m going to go and get Clara. You two can watch from the safe distance of your car. Do not approach the door. Am I understood?”
“What if––?” Lily started to speak, but I cut her off.
“Do not approach the Mason house. Not under any circumstances. I can’t have you two thrown into the mix and have to worry about you as well.”
Both women deflated at that and sat back in their chairs. Not wanting to waste any more time, I jogged across the road, through the luckily open gate, across the big front garden and up the steps up to the massive wooden door. This was one of the Masons’ nicer properties and was situated in Hampstead, away from the hub of their east London crime network. They had another five houses like this, but Zach was sure that Clara was here, and he was also sure that she couldn’t leave.
Zach and Poppy had wanted to come with me, but I’d strictly forbidden it. Zach was a child, and Poppy attractedwaytoo much attention. Plus, she was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. So I’d left them together, her making him a cup of tea and coaxing him to tell her about his plans for veterinary training. On the way to the Mason house, I’d rung Grant to let him know what I was doing. Grant wasn’ttotallyon board; he told me in no uncertain terms I should wait, rather than going in based on the say-so of a fifteen-year-old boy, but I was done waiting. I felt likeI’d been waiting for Clara my whole life. I’d be damned if I was going to wait any longer.
So I pounded on the solid door until a massive beast of a guy with a bald head yanked it open, flanked by two other equally unsavoury-looking individuals.
“Good day, gentlemen,” I said. “I gather this is the Mason residence.”
“Who wants to know?” grunted the bald man.
“I’m Lord Sterling. I believe you may recognise me from the courtroom last week. I had to recuse myself during the trial of Frederick Mason. I’m here to collect Clarabelle Mason. She lives with me, and she’s been missing for the last seventy-two hours. I’m reliably informed that she is at this address.”
Bald Man snorted. “There’s no fucking Clarabelle here. You can do one, mate.”
“I assure you I will not bedoing one,” I told him. “I will be leaving with Clarabelle.”
“Like hell you will,” he said, pushing his large body through the door to invade my personal space. The smell of cigarettes and beer almost made me gag.
I tensed, ready to get around this guy if I had to, but then I heard movement from the side of the house. When I whipped round in the direction of the noise, I saw Clara staggering out onto the front lawn. Her face was swollen. There was blood dripping from her temple into her eye, and she looked seconds from collapse.
“Clara!” I shouted, running down the steps towards her. She spun to face me, frowned in confusion, then blinked a couple of times before she sank to the ground like a stone. “Clara, shit, Clara!”
I ran to her with my heart in my throat and skidded ontomy knees next to her. My relief when I felt her chest moving under my hand was so acute I almost couldn’t breathe. I gently moved her onto her side, pulling her arm across her body and tucking her hand under the side of her face, so that she was in the recovery position. Footsteps came thundering from the same side entrance Clara had collapsed through and I looked up to see Frank Mason glaring at me across the lawn. He too had a blood trail, this one running from somewhere around the back of his neck down his chest onto his shirt.
“Stay back,” I growled at him, leaping to my feet to stand in front of Clara. “Stay away from her.”
“Don’t tell me what to do with my own daughter, you lawyer cunt!” Frank Mason spat out.
“She’s not your daughter. Fathers don’t do this to their daughters.”
“The little bitch punched me in the throat, kneed me in the balls and slammed my head with a frying pan.”
“Good,” I said. “Sadly, you’re still alive. Now fuck off. I’m taking Clara to hospital.”
“This is family business; you’re not taking her anywhere.” Frank took a step towards me, then staggered on his feet, looking slightly dazed, clearly still suffering from the blow to the back of his head. He looked over at his men at the door and jerked his head in my direction.
The big bald one came at me first. He threw a slow, lumbering punch at my head which I easily ducked.
I punched him in the jaw just like I’d been taught in the gym at the private school I’d gone to, and he went down like a sack of shit. You didn’t go to the boarding school I went to without learning how to fight.
When the other two came at me, I had a flash of panic. I needed to protect Clara and get her out of this situation, and I was terrified she could be caught in the crossfire. Butas they started to move, a sharp, commanding voice cut through the air, and everyone froze.
“Now that will be quite enough of that,” Mrs Clayton said in her best headteacher take-no-shit voice. “I have never witnessed such appalling behaviour. We will be taking Clara to hospital where she will be seen to by medical professionals. Get back inside that housethis instantand await the relevant authorities.”
The men blinked at her. Having a short, slightly overweight, grey-haired lady give them a bollocking as though they were still in primary school was likely unexpected, but I was guessing they’d all had enough experience of their own grandparents, mums and teachers of the same ilk to stop them in their tracks.
“And I’m filming this, motherfuckers, so you better watch yourselves. No more getting away with being violent fuckwaffles with impunity anymore. Not on our watch.” Lily was less intimidating than Mrs Clayton, but the men did flinch when they glanced at her phone.
“You’re in enough trouble already, aren’t you, lads?” I said to them. “Frank here’s going down for a long time, and likely so are you. Now you can choose what kind of time you’ll serve. If you want to contribute to killing his daughter, I’d say you’ll be in prison a damn sight longer. Do you know what they do in jail to people who hurt women?Iknow, and it’s not pretty.”
