he realized how hungry he was. A clock on the oven showed twenty past four. Six hours had passed since he had left Macau.
Paul Adams sat down. He had a glass of whisky and he drank it in one swallow, then refilled it. “You’re English…” he said.
“I was at your home in Dulwich,” Matt said. He was rummaging through a cupboard for a tea-bag. “I tried to find Scarlett there. But she’d gone.”
“They’ve taken her.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.” He drank again. “I know who you are!” he exclaimed. He had only just worked it out. “You’re the boy they’re all looking for. You’re the reason why they wanted Scarlett.”
Matt didn’t say anything. The kettle boiled and he made himself the tea, adding two spoons of sugar.
“Matt Freeman. That’s who it was. Matt Freeman!” He got up and went over to the kitchen, weaving his way across the carpet. Matt didn’t know whether to be saddened or disgusted. He had never seen anyone so utterly lost. Paul Adams leant heavily against the side of the counter and suddenly there were tears in his eyes. “They lied to me,” he said. “They told me she’d be all right if I helped them. I was the one who caught her! She’d have got away if it hadn’t been for me. But I only did it to protect her. They said they’d kill her if I didn’t help them.”
“Did they take her to The Nail?” Matt asked.
“She’s not there.” Paul Adams shook his head.
“Is she still in Hong Kong?”
“Somewhere. They won’t tell me.” He paused and looked at the window. The first streaks of morning were beginning to bleed through the night sky. “I thought they’d be grateful for what I did, but they said I’d never see her again. They were mocking me. I’d helped them and it was all for nothing. They wanted me to know that.” He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t understand what they want, Matt. I don’t understand anything any more. This whole city…” His voice trailed away.
“Mr Adams, I can help you,” Matt said. “I can find her and get her out of here.”
“How? You’re just a kid.”
“I need to have a shower and get changed.” Matt was still dripping water onto the expensive carpet. “Do you have spare clothes?”
“I don’t know…” He waved vaguely in the direction of the bedroom.
Matt drew on the last of his strength, forcing his mind into gear. He had to find Scarlett. That was the reason he was here. But that wasn’t going to be possible, not if she had been taken to some secret location. Was she even still in Hong Kong? He guessed that she would have to be. The Old Ones were using her to get at him. Surely they would keep her there until he arrived.
How to find her? Matt’s eyes were desperately heavy. All he wanted to do was go to bed. But somehow he knew that this was his last chance. He had to bring all the pieces together, here in this room. First there was Paul Adams, destroying himself, wracked with guilt and misery. Then there was the man called Lohan, somewhere in Hong Kong with his thousand foot-soldiers. Richard and Jamie. Maybe they had found their way over to them. And the fireworks. What was the name he had seen, stencilled on the crates?
And suddenly he had it.
“Listen to me,” he said. “I may be able to find Scarlett, but you’re going to have to help me. Will you do that?”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Does your telephone work here? And do you have a phone book?”
Paul Adams had been expecting something more. How would a simple phone call save his daughter? “It’s over there…” He gestured with the hand that was still holding the whisky glass.
Matt went over to the telephone. It was a desperate plan. But he could think of no other way.
He picked it up and began to dial.
They came for him just after seven o’clock.
Matt was asleep on the sofa, dressed in jeans and a sweater that didn’t really fit but were a lot better than the ones he had dumped in the bathroom. He had taken a hot shower, washing the smell of the harbour off his skin and out of his hair. And then he had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.
He hadn’t heard the police arrive. They had driven down Harcourt Road and turned into Wisdom Court without sirens. He was woken by the sound of the door being smashed open and the shouts of a dozen men as they poured into the flat. Some of them were carrying guns. It was hard to say who was in charge. Suddenly they were everywhere and Matt was surrounded.
He started to get up but something hit him in the chest. It was a dart, fired from what looked like a toy gun, trailing wires behind it. But the next thing he knew, there was an explosion of pain and he was literally thrown off his feet as a bolt of electricity seared through him. He had been hit with a Tasar, a weapon used by police forces all over the world. Despite its appearance, it had fired an electrical charge that had resulted in the total loss of his neuromuscular control. Matt had never felt pain like it. It seemed to shatter every bone in his body. He heard an animal whimper and realized it was him.
Matt collapsed to the ground, unable to move. The policemen weren’t taking any chances. They had deliberately neutralized him before he could use his power against them.
A moment later, two of them fell on him. They twisted his arms behind his back and he felt cold steel against his wrists as a pair of handcuffs were locked into place. One of the policemen grabbed him by the hair and twisted him round so that he was in a kneeling position.
Another man appeared at the door.
“So this is Matthew Freeman,” he said.
The chairman of the Nightrise Corporation had wanted to make sure that everything was safe before he came in. Now he strutted forward and stood over Matt, looking down at him with a smile on his face. Although he had been hastily summoned out of bed, he was as smartly dressed as always, in a new suit and polished shoes. “What a great pleasure to meet you,” he added.
Matt ignored him. He twisted round so that he was facing Paul Adams. His eyes were filled with anger. “What have you done?” he yelled.
“I called them while you were in the shower.” Adams went over to the chairman. It was clear he was afraid of him. He stood there, wringing his hands together as if trying to wash them clean. “This is the boy, Mr Chairman,” he muttered. “He came to the flat in the middle of the night. I called you the moment I could.”
“You’ve done very well,” the chairman muttered. He was still gazing at Matt. “I never thought it would be this easy,” he said.
Matt swore at him.
“I knew you were looking for him, Mr Chairman,” Paul Adams went on. “And now you have him. So you don’t need Scarly. Tell me you’ll let Scarly go.”
The chairman turned his head slowly and examined Scarlett’s father as if he were a doctor about to break bad news. “I will not let Scarly go,” he said. “I will never let Scarly go.”
“Then at least let me see her. I’ve given you the boy. Don’t I deserve a reward?”
“You most certainly do,” the chairman said.
He nodded at one of the policemen, who shot Paul Adams in the head. Matt saw the spray of blood as the back of his skull was blown off. He was dead instantly. His knees buckled underneath him and he fell to one side.
“A quick death,” the chairman remarked. He nodded at Matt. “Soon you’ll be wishing you could have had one too.”
He turned and walked out of the room. Two of the policemen reached forward and jerked Matt to his feet. Then they dragged him out, along the corridor and down to the city below.
