"Uh-huh. Like I'm sure forensics won't find traces of your DNA inside the place."

"It would be nice if they didn't."

"Well, I'm sure they won't. Take it easy, c.u.mberland."

"You too, Osbourne."

He was about to end the call when she said: "s.h.i.t. That girl. I know her."

"Excuse me?"

It was the naked girl he'd found.

"Her name's Angelina Kolchek. Her father's been ranting at us about his missing daughter. He's hard to ignore."

"Someone important?"

"Only to sc.u.m. Vinnie Kolchek is a grade-A b.a.s.t.a.r.d, into everything, except he boasts that he never exploits kids, and any wh.o.r.es he runs are volunteers, not kidnap victims."

"Sounds like a lovely chap. Where would he be, if I ever wanted to visit?"

"You wouldn't." A chime sounded: an attachment arriving in his phone. "But if you did, he'd be there."

"Take it easy."

"You too. Don't let him sell you a car."

The phone went blank.

Perhaps fifty used cars were parked in front of the single-storey building. Red, white, and blue pennants fluttered, while moving posters scrolled through hyperbole Prices slashed! Lifetime bargains here! and cheerful music played from outdoor speakers. Josh drove past the customer parking slots, circling round to the back. Inside a cavernous garage, mechanics were at work. A welding torch was incandescent. Several men paused as Josh parked, climbed out, and walked towards them, phone in hand.

"Hey, guys. I need to talk to Mr Kolchek."

A bulky man came forward, his skin grease-stained, his hair incongruously bleached.

"Don't know no Mr Kolchek."

"Sure you don't. Take this." Josh held out his phone. "Show that to the guy you've never heard of."

"Huh?"

"I'll wait here while you do it."

The guy with the bleached hair took the phone, weighed it in his hand, then carried it inside the main building. His colleagues stopped working apart from the welder, who perhaps had not noticed folding their arms and forming a semicircle focused on Josh.

"You all training to be salesmen? You've got the charm thing down, big time."

"Just try us, pal."

"You mean, like a test drive?"Jaw muscles clenched, but no one lost control. That was just as well. Josh had not taken any guns off Khan's men he wanted the weapons to remain as evidence but he had his own weapon now, holstered at the small of his back: a Browning PulseCloud, able to drop three or four guys at a time.

There was a bustle at the back, then a large man with a scarred face came forward, with a smaller guy behind him.

"Who the f.u.c.k are you?" said the big man.

"The man who found your daughter, if you're Vinnie. Otherwise, I'm the man who found his daughter."

"All right," said the smaller man. "Where's Angie?"

So this was Vinnie Kolchek. He should have known by the eyes.

"Safe by now." Josh held up his hands. "The police should be raiding the place about now. They'll have medics with them. Your Angie isn't the only kid Khan's people had."

"Khan." Kolchek paled, still clenching Josh's phone. "That piece of s.h.i.t did this?"

"That's the man."

"So what do you want?"

"The police are raiding Khan's place, but they're not going to find him."

"f.u.c.k that. He got away?"

"Not exactly." Josh reached out for his phone. "You mind?"

After a hesitation: "All right."

"Thanks." Josh took the phone back, then pointed it at his car. "And Merry Christmas."

The lid popped open. Inside, Khan was awake, snarling and thrashing against his bonds. Before the others could move, Josh strode to the car, pulling out the Browning.

"One chance." He aimed at Khan's head. "Either I leave you here with Vinnie boy, or you tell me what I need to know. Then I drive fast and drop you someplace, your choice."

"Motherf.u.c.ker," said Kolchek.

"Shut up, Vinnie. This is my play."

"What do you want?" Khan looked up. "I'll tell you, all right?"

Left-handed, Josh brought up Richard Broomhall's image on the phone, and turned it towards Khan. It was a surveillance still from the corner shop: Richard and his unknown friend.

"Who are these two? One of them ran an errand for you the other night."

Khan's eyes narrowed. That was fast, he had already figured that Maxwell had talked.

"Strange kid, first time I used him. Don't know him."

"And the other?"

"That's Jayce. Just Jayce, no other name that I know."

Behind Josh, Kolchek's men were fanning out.

"Where does he hang out, Khan? Give me something, quick."

"s.h.i.t, these kids are on the street, you know? He could be anywhere."

"Uh-huh. You know, I am kind of outnumbered here."

"There's a shelter at Zenith Place."

"Where you found him, is it?"

Khan shook his head.

"So where else?" Josh went on. "Other haunts? People he hangs around with?"

"Had friends. The Spidermen threw him out. Kid was a s.h.i.t. Loner."

"You call him a s.h.i.t? You're something, Khan. Gimme something more."

"That's it." Khan shrugged his shoulders. "What do you expect? Just a punk. Now get me out of here."

"Giving orders? Your world changed today, and you still haven't realised."

"Hey, we had a deal."

Josh holstered his Browning. Then he reached inside, hauled Khan out of the boot, and dropped him like a sack. He slammed the boot lid down.

"Too bad I'm a liar."

He nodded once to Vinnie Kolchek, climbed into his car, and put it in drive. There was no need to use his rear-view mirror as he left the dealership. Then he was out on the road, driving steadily, careful not to give in to adrenaline and boost the acceleration; because safety was everything. After all, he was a law-abiding citizen.

[ FIFTEEN ].

The pub was called the Golden Switchblade; Richard tried not to think about blades, the slitting of skin, the revealing of slick intestines. In the small yard out back the sign read Beer Garden Opal sat down at a wooden table, while he took a seat opposite. Brian was inside, fetching drinks.

"What did you do today?" Richard asked.

He imagined hours of gekrunning practice, or poring over educationware on screen, though she didn't appear to attend school.

Zajac, with a blade in hand "What's up, Richie?"

"Nothing." He should not have thought of school. "Sorry."

"Huh. Well I was helping Ciara in the market, unloading boxes of fruit, stuff like that."

Across the garden, movement made them both look up. Not Brian, but a wide-shouldered man with shaven head and rolled-up sleeves, carrying three pints of beer by their handles. A smaller man had just taken a backward step into his path, at the cost of his own beer sloshing.

"Hoy." He glared at the bigger man, not seeming to notice the guy's size. "What you think you're bleeding doing?"

"I'm really sorry, mate. I hope I didn't spill any of your drink."

"Well, you bleeding did, as it happens."

"Here, have this full one. Pint of best, was it?"

"Er... Yeah."

"There ya go then. Take it easy."

"Well. OK."

The bigger man walked on, deposited his remaining two pints at a table where his friends were waiting. The two looked at him and he shrugged.

"Looks like I lost my own," he told them. "Back in a mo."

"Be careful how you go, delicate bloke like you."

"Yeah, pay attention to where you're walking."

"Do my best."

Opal watched him go back inside, then looked at the smaller man, now laughing with his cronies as he finished off his old drink before commencing on the new one. She shook her head.

"I don't get it," she said. "How can anyone be such a t.w.a.t? Can't he see?"

Brian arrived, carrying three c.o.kes, and put them down. Condensation glistened on the gla.s.ses.

"See what?"

"That little bloke b.u.mped into Eddie McMullen. Gave Eddie an earful, too."

"Holy Christ."