with care and delivered in RP, as if maybe he'd attended a posh school as a boy but had then had the edges knocked off his cut glass vowels by years living below his station.
Kate didn't reply, but she gripped her mug with tight, white knuckles.
'And you've got mould or something very like it smeared down the arm of your sweater.' He cocked his head to one side and bit his lip thoughtfully. 'Underground then. Maybe a railway arch or a cellar. Somewhere old, wet and crumbly, that's for sure. You smell a bit dampy, if you don't mind me saying.'
Still Kate did not say a thing, unsure where he was going with this.
'Could you lead me there, or did they blindfold you?' he asked.
The question was so bluntly put that Kate answered it almost in spite of herself. It seemed he already knew everything anyway.
'Blindfold,' she said, her mouth dry. She took another sip of tea.
He nodded. This was the answer he'd been expecting. He considered her carefully for a moment and seemed to come to a decision.
'You are in very deep shit, Miss Booker. These are bad, bad men your brother's got himself, and now you, involved with. I take it you know the basics of their operation?'
Kate nodded once. She thought her face must be as white as a ghost's.
'Then you know that they eat people like you up for breakfast. You'll work for them as long as you are useful, but the first time you make a mistake, or they get suspicious of you in any way, or they just decide that they want someone fresh for their evening's entertainment, you will disappear as completely as if you had never existed.'
'Why…' Her mouth was dry again. She took another sip of tea. 'Why don't you just arrest them then? Isn't that your job?'
'It's not that simple. This gang doesn't exist in isolation. There's a chain stretching right across Europe. This is a huge operation, involving the police of twelve countries, many of which have police forces that see bribes as a normal part of their pay packet. Plus…' He hesitated.
'Plus?'
'Plus, there's someone in our own force looking out for them. I think. Perhaps. I can't prove it.' He looked up at her, momentarily suspicious, as if asking himself why he was telling her all this.
'That's why I've approached you like this, at home. Anyway,' he continued. 'Recently we had a bit of setback. Our… channel of information dried up.'
'Nate, yeah? The doctor?'
Cooper looked shocked, as if he'd been caught out. Then he nodded, a little surprised she'd put a name to their mole so easily. 'Loathsome little junkie, but easy to manipulate.'
'Oh. I see. You want me to take his place.'
Cooper sat back in his chair. 'Where did they take you just now? What did you see?'
'Nothing useful. An old underground cellar. Damp, as you say. I could hear tube trains and, I think, a river nearby. But that could be anywhere in London, couldn't it?'
Cooper nodded thoughtfully. 'And what did you do there?'
'Listen, my brother…'
'We know all about your brother.'
'They told me they'd kill him, if I came to the police.'
'Most likely. You too.'
'Then what the fuck is with turning up at my front door? If anyone sees you… I mean, what kind of fucking amateur are you?'
Cooper smiled. Kate did not think it was particularly reassuring. 'Spider doesn't have the resources to do keep you under surveillance. He relies on your fear you keep you in line. You were tailed when you went shopping yesterday, and they had someone in A amp;E two nights ago pretending to have food poisoning so they could see you at work, but they don't watch you all the time. By now they're becoming confident that you haven't gone to the police. And if you haven't gone yet, chances are you won't.'
Kate sat there and suddenly felt ashamed and embarrassed. 'I would have,' she said. 'Eventually, I would have. I've thought about it.'
'But your brother.'
'He's not the hardest of men. He's weak and stupid and his own worst enemy. But he's my best friend. I've had to look after him his whole life, get him out of trouble, keep him from being bullied. Jesus, the amount of times at school I had to fight his battles for him. I suppose I should have known that something like this was inevitable.'
'We can keep him safe.'
'Not your job, Mr Cooper. It's mine.'
Cooper leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together and holding her gaze firmly. 'If you help us, Kate, you have my word no harm will come to him.'
Although this figure of authority was asking for her help, Kate felt as helpless as she ever had. If she agreed to inform for the police, she'd be placing herself and her brother in terrible danger. But if she said no… she thought of that poor girl in the cellar. Where was she now? Dolled up and drugged up, washed and brushed up and delivered to some hotel room for the pleasure of a banker or drug dealer who'd use her and then hand her back to her captors, dead or alive.
She stared deep into Cooper's eyes, seeking reassurance. He smiled at her, and she felt her resistance crumble.
'Okay, okay. What do I have to do?'
They didn't call on her for another two weeks. But this time she did not allow herself to pretend that life was normal.
At Cooper's urging, Kate signed up for self defence classes. Each day after work she would spend an hour in a draughty scout hut in Camden learning how to turn an opponent's weight against them, learning simple blocks and combos designed to prevent her from coming to harm and allow her time to run.
They didn't teach her how to collapse a windpipe with a single punch, or how to twist a neck and break it, or the places on the body where the lightest blow could cause the most damage. She was a doctor; that stuff she already knew. But knowing and doing are two different things and she knew she lacked the control to throw those kind of punches. Still, she trained and practiced and worked out. The face of the girl from the cellar hovered in front of her as she pounded the treadmill and worked the punchbag.
She would look at herself in the mirror before bed and laugh humourlessly. Who did think she was, Rocky? She was a not very tall young woman, slight and delicate. All the training in the world wouldn't enable her to inflict so much as a single bruise on the giant. But nonetheless, she trained and practiced and focused.
If any of those bastards tried to make her the main attraction rather than the attending doctor, she'd let them know what a big mistake they'd made.
Then, one Sunday night as she sat vacantly watching some telly programme that passed through her eyeballs and out the back of her head without touching the sides, there was a knock at her yet-again rebuilt door.
Kate took a moment to slow her heartbeat and take a few deep breaths. She told herself she was in control as she rose and grabbed the bag she had left by the door especially for this occasion. One more deep breath and then she opened the door.
Her brother stood there with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.
'Hey, Kit,' he said, bashful at disturbing her.
'Oh James, not tonight, eh. I've got an early shift tomorrow.'
He shuffled his feet. 'Sorry, Sis. I've got no choice.'
Suddenly Kate realised that, despite appearances, this was not a social call. 'Right. I'll get my coat.' She turned away but he put his hand on her arm.
'We don't have to be there for an hour or so. That's why…' He held up the bottle of wine.
Kate sighed, stepped back and ushered him inside. 'You know where the glasses are,' she told him as she closed the door and put the bag back in its place.
He made small talk at first. 'How's the hospital… you met a new bloke yet… going to get another flat mate?' That kind of thing. Kate indulged him until he finally ran out things to say. At this point he'd normally reach into his
