The eye stared back at him suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Ray. Mrs Wei gave me your address.’

  ‘You are a client? I don’t see clients any more.’

  ‘No, I’m not a client. I just want to talk to you.’ He held up his hands and flashed her his most disarming smile. ‘I’m a nice guy, really.’

  ‘I’m not supposed to let anyone in.’

  ‘I understand. But I won’t be long. And it’s not a good idea to talk out here, the neighbours might hear.’

  She bit down on her lower lip, then unhooked the chain and opened the door. She was wearing a white shirt and light blue jeans ripped at the knee. Her bare feet were tiny, the toenails spots of scarlet. Her bright red lipstick matched her nail polish. ‘You can’t stay long,’ she said.

  As she closed the door, Ray could see that although she was tiny, she was definitely not a child. But she was still a teenager, no doubt about that. She walked down the hallway, her waist-length hair brushing the top of her jeans. From the way she swung her hips, Ray was pretty sure she knew he was watching her. She took him past a small red shrine in which a joss-stick was burning into a small sitting room with a low black leather sofa and a coffee table across which were scattered a dozen fashion magazines. There was a big screen television on a stand that was filled with DVDs of Chinese movies and soap operas. She turned and put her hands together, like a waitress about to tell him the day’s specials.

  ‘Is Mrs Wei okay?’ she asked.

  ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘Please tell her that I miss her. A lot.’

  ‘I will,’ said Ray, though he doubted that he would be seeing Mrs Wei again.

  She sat down on the sofa and smiled at him. At least her lips smiled, her eyes seemed to be full of sadness, as if she was close to tears. ‘And you can tell her that I am well. I don’t want her to worry about me.’

  ‘Why don’t you call her, tell her yourself?’

  She gave a barely audible sigh, then shook her head. ‘It is forbidden,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Forbidden?’

  She frowned. ‘Is that the wrong word? I mean I do not have permission. It is not allowed.’

  ‘By who? CK Lee?’

  She nodded but didn’t reply, as if she was afraid of uttering his name.

  ‘Your English is good.’

  She smiled at the compliment. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do you go to school here?’

  ‘No, Mr Lee won’t allow that. But I watch a lot of television. It was hard at first but I’m getting better.’

  ‘Well it’s working. How old are you, darling?’

  She jutted up her chin like a defiant child. ‘Twenty,’ she said.

  ‘You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not a cop.’

  ‘Seventeen,’ she said, quietly.

  ‘And how long has Lee been taking care of you?’

  ‘A year or two.’

  ‘Since you were sixteen?’

  ‘Fifteen,’ she said. ‘My parents sent me here to work.’

  ‘From where?’

  She wrinkled her nose as if she didn’t understand the question.

  ‘Where were you before?’ asked Ray.

  ‘China, of course,’ she said.

  ‘They sent you to London to work?’

  She nodded. ‘They are poor. This way I can send money back to them.’

  ‘Lee pays for you?’

  She nodded again. ‘He takes care of me.’

  ‘And you’re okay with that?’

  She shrugged. ‘What can I do? My family need money.’

  ‘And your parents knew what you would be doing here?’

  ‘The man who arranged it said I was to be a waitress.’

  Ray rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry, darling.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘You like this CK Lee?’

  Her eyes hardened. ‘I hate him.’

  ‘Why?’

  She turned her back on him and undid her shirt. She let it fall down to her waist and he saw a large dragon tattooed on her back, mainly black with green eyes and red flames shooting from its jaws. ‘He made me have this.’

  ‘He made you?’

  ‘After he took me away from Mrs Wei he took me to a tattoo shop.’ She pulled her shirt back on and turned around to face him as she buttoned it up. ‘He said he liked to look at the dragon while he fucked me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  She shrugged, her face blank. ‘It’s not your fault.’ She sat down and put her hands in her lap.

  ‘Is this better than working for Mrs Wei?’

  She shrugged again. ‘Before I had to see a lot of men every day. Now I see only Mr Lee. But he doesn’t come to see me often. I’m like his prisoner.’ She shrugged again. ‘It’s boring.’

  ‘Did he ever take you to his house?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ she said.

  ‘Where is it? His house?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘North London? South? West?’

  ‘I always went in his car. It was a big house, Modern. Very expensive. But I don’t know where it was. I don’t know London very well. Mr Lee doesn’t like me going out on my own. He says if I go out the police will catch me and send me back to China.’

  ‘Did you cross the river?’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘So north of the river,’ said Ray. He smiled. ‘That’s something, anyway.’

  ‘You should ask Mr Zhou. He’s a good friend of Mr Lee. Mr Zhou will probably know where Mr Lee lives.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘He owns a restaurant in Kensington. Mr Lee took me to eat there sometimes.’ She smiled. ‘Very good food but so expensive.’

  ‘What’s the name of the restaurant?’

  She said something in Chinese and then put her hand over her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. In English it’s called the Peach Garden. It’s near Harrods.’

  ‘Thank you, Lilly.’

  She smiled coyly. ‘Do you want to fuck me? You can.’

  Ray’s jaw dropped. ‘God, no.’

  ‘You don’t like young girls? All men like young girls.’

  ‘Lilly, darling. You’re as cute as fuck but you’re way too young for me. No offense.’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean, no offense?’

  ‘I mean I don’t want to upset you. You’re lovely, but I’m not here for sex. I just want to find CK Lee.’

  ‘Have you got children?’

  Ray nodded. ‘A son.’

  She smiled. ‘I bet you’re a good father.’

  Ray shook his head. ‘No. I’m not a father.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a long story.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’m going to have to go, Lilly. You know, you can go to the police.’

  ‘They’ll send me back to China.’

  ‘But at least you’ll be away from Lee.’

  ‘And my family will have no money.’ She shrugged. ‘Better I stay.’

  Ray turned to go, then stopped. ‘Have you got a phone?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Can I borrow it?’

  ‘Of course.’ She picked up an iPhone off a table and handed it to him. He tapped in his number and gave it back to her. ‘If you have any problems, you call me. My name’s Ray.’

  ‘Ray,’ she repeated.

  ‘If anything happens, if you need help, just call me.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone can help me,’ she said, and lowered her eyes. Ray had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her but he knew how that would end and he had a job to do.

  CHAPTER 35

  The hour before going out to warm up on the pitch was the time Gabe hated the most. Once he was out and kicking a ball around and the crowd were cheering, the adrenaline kicked in and the body did its thing. But after the briefing and before the warm-up, there was nothing to do, nothing to occupy the mind. Before Guttoso’s arrival at the club most of the players would lose themselves in their phones or iPads, fooling around on social media or watching videos or listening to music. The ban on electrical equipment might have helped build team spirit, but it slowed time to a crawl.

  He wandered into the briefing area and grabbed an energy bar. He chewed on it as he went back into the changing room. Mancini, Devereau and Armati were lying on massage beds as physios worked on them. Brian Lawrence was examining Reid’s shoulder, getting him to raise and lower his left arm as he watched the muscle groups move. Babacar was on a rowing machine, maintaining a slow and steady pace. Wood and Fernandez had already changed into their training kit and were on exercise bikes, apparently racing. Gabe usually spent ten or fifteen minutes on one of the bikes to loosen up and get the blood flowing, but he couldn’t be bothered exercising and instead he sat down on the bench in front of his locker and put his head in his hands.

  ‘You okay, Gabe?’ asked Fernandez. Gabe looked up. The Argentinian was sitting in front of his locker, reading a glossy car magazine. Like Gabe, he hadn’t gotten around to changing into his training kit.

  Gabe forced a smile. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You look like shit.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Do you want to play cards or something?’

  Fernandez was a keen poker player, well known around the city’s casinos. Gabe had played with him a few times and the Argentinian tended to win more often than he lost.

  ‘Think I’ll get some air,’ Gabe said. He headed out of the changing room and back to the exit. He went outside and found Moretti and Maplethorpe smoking. They reacted like guilty schoolboys, palming their cigarettes and holding their breath. McNamara was vehemently against smoking, his hatred of the vice honed by his ten years of abstinence. But Guttoso was a heavy smoker so cigarettes hadn’t found their way onto the list of finable activities, providing it was done outside. Maplethorpe blew smoke up at the cloudless sky. ‘You had me going there, Gabe,’ he said. ‘Thought it was Joe.’

  ‘Joe’s not in there, he’s probably checking the pitch,’ said Gabe. He took out his phone. Ray hadn’t called back.

  ‘You got a bit on the side, Gabe?’ asked Maplethorpe.

  Gabe frowned. ‘What?’ he said, as he slid the phone back into his pocket.

  ‘The way you keep checking your phone. Got something on the go?’

  ‘Behave, Tim,’ said Gabe. ‘My missus is a doctor. Can you imagine the damage she could do with a scalpel?’

  ‘I’m just pulling your chain,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘Laura’s the real deal. She and Ollie coming today?’

  Gabe tried to smile but he felt his lips scrape across his teeth. ‘Should be,’ he said. His eyes filled with tears of anger and frustration so he turned around and went back inside. He let the door close behind him as he blinked away his tears. He had never felt so helpless. His wife and son were in mortal danger and he had to pretend as if life was going ahead as usual. It was a regular Saturday match day, something he had been through hundreds of times before. Except he had to make sure that his team lost. And if they didn’t, Laura and Ollie would die.

  ‘You know what would relax you?’ asked Maplethorpe.

  Gabe hadn’t been listening. ‘What?’

  Maplethorpe repeated the question and held out his pack of cigarettes.

  Gabe laughed and waved them away. ‘I’m not going to start smoking at my age, you soft bastard,’ he said.

  ‘You need something, Gabe,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘You’re very tightly wound at the moment.’

  ‘No I’m not.’

  ‘You were gritting your teeth just then,’ He gestured with his cigarette at Gabe’s temple. ‘And you’ve got a vein just there that’s throbbing like it’s set to burst.’

  Gabe put his hand up to his head but then realised Maplethorpe was joking. He pointed his finger at Maplethorpe’s face. ‘Fuck off,’ he said.

  ‘I’m just saying, you need to chill. You’re captain now.’

  ‘Acting captain.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘If you’re tense, the team gets tense. Eric was a prick sometimes, but he was quietly confident when it came to match day. And that rubs off on everyone else. Okay?’

  Gabe knew that Maplethorpe was talking sense. His role as captain – acting captain – was to lead from the front. On any normal Saturday he’d have absolutely no problem with that and would even relish the responsibility. But this was no ordinary Saturday and this was no ordinary match. If his team won, his family would die. But there was no way he could ever explain that to Maplethorpe so he forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,’ he said.

  ‘We’ve got this game in the bag,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘Chelsea are in a right state at the moment. We’ll run rings around them. Your first time as captain and you win. That’s a result, right?’ He punched Gabe lightly on the shoulder. ‘Fuck me, I wish I was in your shoes.’

  CHAPTER 36

  The Peach Garden was a high-end restaurant with crisp white tablecloths and tall glasses containing orchids on every table. The place was pretty much full even though it was after 2pm. At least half the customers were Asian which suggested the cuisine was authentic, but Ray wasn’t there for the food. A pretty Chinese girl in a gold and red Cheongsam standing at a lectern asked him if he had a booking.

  ‘I need to see Mr Zhou.’ said Ray.

  ‘He’s busy,’ said the girl, but the quick glance she gave a door at the rear of the restaurant was enough to tell Ray which way to go.

  A waiter blocked his way but two quick jabs to his solar plexus had him doubled over, coughing and wheezing. There was a PRIVATE sign on the door but Ray pushed through and headed up a flight of bare stairs. There were two doors at the top and one had a sign saying OFFICE. Ray threw it open. A middle-aged man in a dark suit was sitting at a computer terminal, peering at the screen over a pair of half-moon spectacles. He jumped as if he’d been hit when the door slammed open. His mouth worked soundlessly as Ray kicked the door shut and walked quickly across the room. There was a television screen on the wall opposite the desk showing a sports programme.

  ‘Are you Zhou?’ asked Ray.

  The man nodded. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m the guy who’s going to break every bone in your body if you don’t tell me what I want to know.’

  The man frowned. ‘What?’

  Ray swept the computer off the desk with his arm and it crashed to the floor. Zhou’s high-backed chair was on rollers and he pushed himself back until it hit the wall. Ray moved quickly, sidestepping the desk and grabbing Zhou by the throat.

  ‘You can’t do this to me,’ stammered Zhou.

  Ray grinned savagely. ‘I’m pretty sure I can.’

  Zhou pointed up at a black plastic dome by the entrance. ‘I’ve got CCTV.’

  ‘And I’ve got a couple of mates who’ll put a bullet in your head and bury you in concrete if that CCTV footage goes anywhere near the cops,’ said Ray. ‘Now this can go one of two ways. You tell me what I want to know, or I beat the crap out of you and then you tell me what I want to know. There is a third option, and that’s that I beat you so bad that you can’t tell anything to anyone, but that’s unlikely because I’m pretty good at hurting people.’

  ‘Please…’

  Ray tightened his grip on the man’s throat. ‘I don’t want to hear please, I don’t want to hear you offer me money, or promise me the world if I just let you go. All I want to hear are the answers to my questions. Understand? Just nod if you understand.’

  Zhou nodded fearfully.

  The door opened and a waiter stood there. He wasn’t the one Ray had punched downstairs. He was bigger and holding a large kitchen knife. He froze in the doorway when he saw Ray with his hand on Zhou’s throat.

  ‘Tell him everything’s all right and to go back downstairs,’ said Ray. ‘If you don’t I’ll beat you to a pulp and then I’ll rip your restaurant apart.’

  Zhou nodded fearfully and then said something to the waiter in Chinese.

  The waiter replied, and Zhou spoke again, louder this time.

  ‘Tell him not to call the cops,’ said Ray.

  ‘I’m not fucking stupid,’ said the man, lowering his knife. ‘I can speak English.’

  ‘This is between me and Zhou,’ said Ray. ‘But if you don’t get the fuck out of here it’ll be between you and me and that knife won’t worry me a bit. Now fuck off downstairs and don’t even think about calling the cops.’

  ‘Do as he says,’ croaked Zhou.

  The man nodded and left the office, giving Ray a final glare before he closed the door.

  ‘Good,’ said Ray, tightening his grip on Zhou’s throat. ‘Now I need an address for CK Lee. I need to know where he lives.’

  Ray relaxed his hand slightly and Zhou gasped for air. ‘I don’t know where he…’

  Ray cut him off by tightening his grip. ‘I don’t want to hear don’t know,’ he said. ‘That’s not what I want. You’re his friend, you have to know where he lives.’ Zhou tried to shake his head but Ray’s grip was relentless. ‘Are you going to make me hurt you, Mr Zhou? Because I’ve hurt a lot of people already today and the gloss has kind of gone off it.’ He put his face right up against Zhou’s so their noses were almost touching. ‘The next words out of your mouth had better be Lee’s address or I’m going to start bouncing you off the walls.’

  Ray let go of Zhou’s throat and the man began to babble. ‘I don’t know, I promise you I don’t know,’ he said, the words coming out so fast that they practically ran together. ‘He’s never taken me to his house I’ve no idea where he lives I swear please don’t hurt me.’

  Ray snarled and drew back his fist. Zhou’s arms began to flail and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. ‘But I know where he is right now!’ he stammered. ‘I know where you can find him.’

  Ray’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Where?’

  Zhou pointed at the television screen with his left hand. ‘He’ll be at the United match. He’s got a box. He’ll be watching the game.’ Ray looked over at the screen and realised that it was the stadium where Gabe would soon be playing.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been there. It’s one of the best boxes, close to the halfway line.’