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"What is your name?" he asked softly.

"Kate."

"Hello Kate. People call me Spider."

Of course they do, thought Kate. Can't have a criminal mastermind with a name like Steve or Keith. She almost voiced her sarcastic thought, but didn't, possibly because she was surprised to find herself capable of levity. She wondered if maybe she had a concussion, and then mentally chided herself; of course she had a bloody concussion.

"Interesting name," she said. "Where's it from?"

His smile widened. "I am from Serbia."

"Oh."

"Have you ever been?"

Kate shook her head.

"It is the most beautiful country on Earth." He paused and Kate felt herself being appraised. "Maybe one day I will take you."

The way he said it left Kate in no doubt that the double meaning had been intentional. There was a long silence. No sound penetrated this room from outside. All she could hear was her own breathing and the soft hum of ancient aircon.

"What do you do, Kate. I mean, for a living?"

"I'm a student doctor. You?"

"Oh, I do many things. Many things."

"Is this your club?"

He nodded. "And let me say, Kate, that if you ever tire of the medical profession, I am sure we could find a place for you here."

"If Lyudmila's an example of how you treat your staff, I think I'll pass."

"Lyudmila broke the terms of her contract."

"How?"

"She spat."

It took Kate a moment to work out what he meant, but when she did she felt sick to her stomach.

Spider leaned forward, gently intertwining his fingers and placing them on his knees.

"How do you know her?" he asked.

"I don't."

Spider looked puzzled and then surprised. He swore in Serbian and despite the language barrier Kate could tell he was amazed.

"You mean James brought her to you on his own?" he asked, openly astonished.

Kate didn't know what to do. If she said yes, would that make things better or worse? Eventually she nodded.

Spider turned to look at her brother and shouted. "Have you found a spine, Booker? I did not think you ever would."

"She… she was hurt, boss," wheedled James. "And Nate…"

"That useless junkie is gone. He works for the Albanians now."

"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.