Khan's eyelids fluttered. Josh punched once, to the carotid.
Then he hauled Khan across the loft, pushed him through the opening in the partition, followed, and forced the cut portion back into place. Next, he lowered Khan through the loft hatch, dropped down beside him, and picked up the slack weight, across his shoulders once more in a fireman's carry. Downstairs, out through the kitchen and the back door, causing it to relock… and then Josh stopped, because a whitehaired man was standing there, examining the flowers. His stance was ramrod-straight, and his eyes were clear.
"Is that the dodgy bugger who owns the shop?"
"Yes, sir. And I apologise for being in your home, but this dodgy bugger has been running virapharm labs in those four houses. Your loft was my way in."
"Virapharm."
"There's at least one teenage girl in there. And very shortly there'll be police by the truckload. I'd appreciate it if you weren't around, and had amnesia about this."
"Well." The old guy's smile gave Josh hope. "My daughter makes a tremendous curry. Think I'll go see her."
"Right. You don't want this bastard's people thinking you had anything to do with this."
"So how did you get in? My door's unmarked."
"Shit."
"Not to worry." The old guy strode up to the door, and slammed a kick forward with plenty of hip thrust. The door crashed in. "There."
"Blimey."
"Clean living."
"Right. Er… It would have been nice to meet you, sir. If I'd ever been here."
"Likewise. If you ever had."
Josh hoisted Khan over the rear wall, gave a final nod to the old guy, and went over the top. There, in the back alley, he lifted Khan across his shoulders once more.
Hope I'm like that guy when I get old.
But Sophie would never get old. Some people did not get the chance.
Twenty minutes later he was sitting in his car, with Khan unconscious in the boot. The only tricky part had been leaving Khan dumped out of sight while he retrieved his car from the car park. But now he was ready to do something about the virapharm labs. It took another couple of minutes to rework his subversion ware – it was still loaded in the building system at Khan's place, and communicating with Josh's phone – and break through additional defences, uncovering the secondary surveillance net that had to be there, the one that monitored the virapharm production, meaning the helpless teenage bodies of both sexes splayed naked across glass tables. There were twelve of them in total, none of them Richard Broomhall; but he had needed to check.
He placed a call to Petra.
"I'm on duty." Her image revealed she was in uniform. "Day shift again this week."
"At HQ? So I can talk to you officially?"
"Officially? You?"
"Sort of. Take a look at these."
He tapped his phone, then waited. Petra's expression became stone as she sifted through the attachments.
"Shit. Poor bastards. Who did this to them, Josh?"
"Some nasty fucker called Khan. Look at this map." Another attachment. "The last four houses are knocked into one. There's two dozen guys in place, maybe more, with guns."
"Really."
Bladed weapons might have become legal, but firearms remained anathema, as suspect as paedophilia. When the presence of guns was suspected, the cops went in hard.
"Don't take my word for it. Here's more from their internal surveillance logs."
"I presume there's no sender ID on this anonymous tip-off here?"
"How would I know? I didn't send nothing to no one."
"Uh-huh. Like I'm sure forensics won't find traces of your DNA inside the place."
"It would be nice if they didn't."
"Well, I'm sure they won't. Take it easy, Cumberland."
"You too, Osbourne."
He was about to end the call when she said: "Shit. That girl. I know her."
"Excuse me?"
It was the naked girl he'd found.
"Her name's Angelina Kolchek. Her father's been ranting at us about his missing daughter. He's hard to ignore."
"Someone important?"
"Only to scum. Vinnie Kolchek is a grade-A bastard, into everything, except he boasts that he never exploits kids, and any whores he runs are volunteers, not kidnap victims."
"Sounds like a lovely chap. Where would he be, if I ever wanted to visit?"
"You wouldn't." A chime sounded: an attachment arriving in his phone. "But if you did, he'd be there."
"Take it easy."
"You too. Don't let him sell you a car."
The phone went blank.
Perhaps fifty used cars were parked in front of the single-storey building. Red, white, and blue pennants fluttered, while moving posters scrolled through hyperbole – Prices slashed! Lifetime bargains here! – and cheerful music played from outdoor speakers. Josh drove past the customer parking slots, circling round to the back. Inside a cavernous garage, mechanics were at work. A welding torch was incandescent. Several men paused as Josh parked, climbed out, and walked towards them, phone in hand.
"Hey, guys. I need to talk to Mr Kolchek."
A bulky man came forward, his skin grease-stained, his hair incongruously bleached.
"Don't know no Mr Kolchek."
"Sure you don't. Take this." Josh held out his phone. "Show that to the guy you've never heard of."
"Huh?"
"I'll wait here while you do it."
The guy with the bleached hair took the phone, weighed it in his hand, then carried it inside the main building. His colleagues stopped working – apart from the welder, who perhaps had not noticed – folding their arms and forming a semicircle focused on Josh.
"You all training to be salesmen? You've got the charm thing down, big time."
"Just try us, pal."
"You mean, like a test drive?"
Jaw muscles clenched, but no one lost control. That was just as well. Josh had not taken any guns off Khan's men – he wanted the weapons to remain as evidence – but he had his own weapon now, holstered at the small of his back: a Browning PulseCloud, able to drop three or four guys at a time.
There was a bustle at the back, then a large man with a scarred face came forward, with a smaller guy behind him.
"Who the fuck are you?" said the big man.
"The man who found your daughter, if you're Vinnie. Otherwise, I'm the man who found his daughter."
"All right," said the smaller man. "Where's Angie?"
So this was Vinnie Kolchek. He should have known by the eyes.
"Safe by now." Josh held up his hands. "The police should be raiding the place about now. They'll have medics with them. Your Angie isn't the only kid Khan's people had."
"Khan." Kolchek paled, still clenching Josh's phone. "That piece of shit did this?"
"That's the man."
"So what do you want?"
"The police are raiding Khan's place, but they're not going to find him."
"Fuck that. He got away?"
"Not exactly." Josh reached out for his phone. "You mind?"
After a hesitation: "All right."
"Thanks." Josh took the phone back, then pointed it at his car. "And Merry Christmas."
The lid popped open. Inside, Khan was awake, snarling and thrashing against his bonds. Before the others could move, Josh strode to the car, pulling out the Browning.
"One chance." He aimed at Khan's head. "Either I leave you here with Vinnie boy, or you tell me what I need to know. Then I drive fast and drop you someplace, your choice."
"Motherfucker," said Kolchek.
"Shut up, Vinnie. This is my play."
"What do you want?" Khan looked up. "I'll tell you, all right?"
Left-handed, Josh brought up Richard Broomhall's image on the phone, and turned it towards Khan. It was a surveillance still from the corner shop: Richard and his unknown friend.