'I know that, boss. But she was hurt, she needed to be looked after. I didn't know what else to do.'
'So you took her to this girl?'
'Yes.'
'And how…' Spider broke off and looked sharply back at Kate, then back at James. 'Ha! She is your sister. You took Lyudmila to see your sister the doctor.'
James hung his head in shame and then gave one short nod.
'Sorry, Sis,' he said softly.
Spider turned back to Kate and leaned back in his chair again, once more placing his arms just so.
'I apologise for the way you were treated, Kate. I can see that this situation is not your fault.'
'But?'
'But I hope you see that I am now in a very difficult position. The business I run is not, entirely, legitimate. There are people who would like to see me locked up. You have seen my face. You know my name. You can identify some of the men who work for me. You are a problem. I think it would be sensible for me to kill you.'
'No! Boss, please!' Yelled James.
As Spider rose from his chair, his precise movements made him seem almost robotic. He turned and walked over to James, who cowered on the floor. Spider stood above him on the stage and lashed out with his foot, kicking James hard in the face. It was a sudden, shocking action, an explosion of pent up rage. For an instant Spider's limbs were flexible, his neck was loose, his body fluent and fluid. Then, when the blow had been struck, he stood stock still and kind of settled, his body returning to repose, an act of conscious thought, re-imposing order on the chaos he worked so hard to contain within himself. His momentary loss of complete precision seemed almost not have happened.
He spun on his heels, walked back to Kate, and resumed his seat.
Kate could hear her brother sobbing quietly.
She surprised herself by consciously thinking how much she would like to kill this man.,
'Who…' Kate's mouth was too dry to form words. She rubbed the sides of her tongue across her teeth to force some saliva into her mouth, then sluiced the tiny amount of liquid to the back of her throat, swallowing. 'Who was Nate?' she asked eventually.
Spider's eyes narrowed, calculating. 'He was my doctor.'
Even though she'd known what he was going to say, the fact of it chilled Kate to the core. This man needed a doctor on call all the time. Dear God, how many women… how many beatings?
'And he's gone now?' she asked.
Spider nodded.
'Then maybe I can help you. Take his place.'
There was a long silence. When Kate had woken up this morning she'd known this would be a life-changing day. But not in her wildest dreams had she envisaged sitting in a strip club at the crack of dawn as a Serbian gangster considered whether to kill her or welcome her to a life of crime.
Spider rose again and walked over to Lyudmila. He stood over the unconscious girl, his back to Kate, for a long moment. He stood so still that you could have mistaken him for a shop window dummy. Then he reached into his jacket and withdrew something that Kate couldn't see.
The shot was deafeningly loud, totally unexpected. Kate screamed in spite of herself. Lyudmila jerked once, but other than that you'd never know that a small piece of metal had just evacuated her head. James cried out, a howl of horror and shame. Spider turned and walked over to him. His body language had changed again. Now he moved like a hunter, loose limbed and balletic.
Kate didn't have the luxury of going into shock. She leapt up from the sofa and ran over to them. Spider still had his gun in his hand, and he aimed casually at James's head. Kate flung herself between the gun and her brother.
She opened her mouth to speak, to beg for her life and James's. But she looked into Spider's eyes, able to see them properly, up close, for the first time. She instantly realised that it would be hopeless. There was neither pity nor humanity in those eyes. They were the cold, dead orbs of a predator, nothing more.
As she realised there was nothing she could do, Kate felt something inside her change. For the first time, she understood that her life lay entirely in the hands of another person, who would end it or not according to his whim. She was no longer in control of her own fate. Her life as she had known it was over. This realisation lent her a sudden, deep calm.
She looked into those eyes. She did not beg, or plead or cry. She did not try to strike a bargain or make a threat. She did not try to seduce him or attack him. All of those things would have resulted, she knew with absolute certainty, in instant death.
She just said one word, calmly, simply and without emotion.
'Please.'
The barrista scooped the soy milk froth over the coffee with a long spoon, put a heart shaped flourish in the pattern then sprinkled it with chocolate.
'Two ninety-five,' she said, her Polish accent impossible to miss.
Kate paid. She smiled at the young woman, lifted the two mugs and a small packet of biscuits, then walked back to the table in the corner where her broken brother sat hunched and sniffling. She placed the mug of coffee in front of him and took her seat, facing him across the small round table. Over his shoulder she could see people hurrying to and fro down Villiers Street, popping into Accessorize or Pret, enjoying the bustle and business of their daily lives. She envied their ignorance and felt as if she no longer lived entirely in their world.
Her hands were steady as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips. She was surprised by this, but reasoned that she would probably go into shock in an hour or so, when the adrenalin finally wore off. For now, she felt focused, purposeful yet slightly spaced out, as if she had just begun the long build up to a skull shattering migraine.
James, she could see, was already in shock. She'd been trained to deal with people brought into A amp;E like this; taught how to treat them while eliciting their story, gathering information to help with diagnosis.
'Start at the beginning,' she said, more harshly than she'd intended. It seemed that when it came to her brother, her training didn't help
James sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve and took a sip of coffee. He looked up at her and she winced again at the marks on his face. His left eye was swollen shut, his jaw bulged and bruised, and his front left canine was a gaping, bloody hole. Say what you like about his personality, James had at least always been pretty. He'd always jokingly referred to himself as the lipstick half of any relationship. Certainly his boyfriends had always tended to be square-jawed gym bunnies. Kate suspected his pretty-boy days were over.
'I got into trouble about six months ago,' he said, but then he ground to a halt, staring at the table top.
'James.' He did not respond. 'For god's sake James, snap out of it. I need to know what you've got me into and I need to know now. Just take it slowly and tell me the whole story from the start.'
James reached across and placed his hand on hers, squeezing it tightly and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked up and smiled weakly.
'Okay. But if you tell Gran about this, I'll tell her what you did with Bobby Arnold on your fifteenth birthday.'
'You bitch, you wouldn't dare!'
'Try me, toots.'
They both laughed, but not for long. James opened the small packet of biscuits and offered one to her. She took one as he dunked his in his coffee.
'I dunno why you do that,' she said, screwing up her face in distaste.
'What?'
'Dunking. All you end up with is soggy biscuit mush at the bottom of your coffee. It's gross.'
He didn't respond and it soon became apparent that their reservoir of small talk was empty.
'I got in trouble, Sis. Big trouble. About six months ago. It was Phil. You remember Phil?'
Kate remembered Phil, all right. She'd known he was trouble the first time he turned up at the pub that Sunday night. Tall, muscled and totally in love with his own reflection, he was boorish, brash and bullying. James couldn't look at him without doing simpering puppy eyes. Kate thought that was the attraction — Phil had finally found the only person in the world who adored him almost as much as he adored himself. He didn't exactly treat
