‘I’m not joining you; you betrayed the Circle.’
‘They have betrayed all of us!’
‘Words.’
‘Fine. You wish to remain nothing more than a violent slave, then so be it. Stop looking for the key or I will kill you. Do you understand me? Don’t make your sister weep for you.’
Du Bois understood her perfectly. The key was in Portsmouth and alive, but she did not know where, otherwise she would have moved her. There was hope.
‘You can go now,’ she told him. ‘I’m not going to sink into the earth or anything like that.’
‘I still don’t know your name.’
‘You never will.’
Du Bois turned and walked away. He glanced over his shoulder. She was still there looking out over the land. There was something about the way she stood that made him think that she was so very tired.
Du Bois made his way quickly back to the bike. Alexia was there, of course. She had not abandoned him and was so relieved to see him. It was only then he realised how terrified he had been.
The amusements were closed, a neon beacon of wasted electricity garishly lighting up the night sky. Beth had done most of her work and was sitting on the sea wall again, watching two armed police officers walk along the front. Nobody wanted to come out and play with all the police around and the island blocked off from the mainland.
‘Excuse me, love.’
Beth was slowly getting used to the mangled cockney of the Pompey accent. With her broad West Yorkshire vowels, sometimes conversations sounded like they were being held in two different languages. This voice was the most Pompey she had ever heard: she had to play it back in her head to decipher it.
‘Yeah?’ she finally said. She didn’t like the look of him. Weasel-faced, lank, shoulder-length blond hair, looped earrings. He looked thin but she was guessing that under the shell suit was a wiry frame. He was leaning on a bizarre-looking cane that looked like it was made out of leather. His mouth moved with the constant chewing movement of the habitual speed freak. It was the eyes, though. She’d seen them before, working the doors. This was a man who didn’t feel anything and so liked violence. A proper psycho.
Two large men dressed much more smartly, in suits and overcoats, flanked the weasel-faced man. Massively built, their pronounced jaws suggested steroid abuse. Beth had seen their like before in the gym.
‘You looking for me?’ the thin man asked. Alarm bells were ringing.
‘Don’t think so.’
‘Sure? Jaime said you was. So did William. You do that to his fingers?’ he asked, sounding casual. If there was anger there, it was because someone was playing with his toys, not because someone had hurt his people.
Beth got off the wall. ‘You know my sister?’
‘Probably be better if we asked the questions, love.’
‘Who are you?’
‘You’re not very bright up north, are you? We’re going to go for a bit of a ride. Have a bit of a chat, okay?’
‘I’m a bit old to get into a car with strange men.’ Beth turned to walk away.
‘I don’t think you want to do that.’
Beth made the mistake of glancing behind her. The big guy on the psycho’s right had opened his coat to show the pistol stuffed in his waistband. Beth knew she should have kept walking but stopped. The man with the gun was trying to look hard but he had to be scared. The city was crawling with armed police and even soldiers. Battery Row was pretty open and he was carrying a shooter.
‘You going to use that here?’ Beth asked. She tried to sound casual, but her hand went into the pocket of her leather jacket, fingers curling around her brass knuckles. She didn’t fancy her chances of crossing the distance before he drew the gun. These guys being mown down by trigger-happy police was little consolation if she was dead.
‘What are you doing?’ Ted was behind her, staring at the psycho.
Beth swore to herself. She didn’t doubt that to run an arcade you needed to be hard, but she didn’t think Ted was anywhere near this psycho’s league, and he was old, fat and really unhealthy. The last thing she needed was to drag him into this, particularly with a gun involved. ‘I asked you a fucking question, McGurk. You know better. You don’t fucking come down here and hassle my people.’
Beth turned to stare at Ted. He was an easy-going guy. This was a new side of him. Fat or not, he suddenly came across as more than capable of defending himself. She wondered how many other people had underestimated him in the past.
‘Hello, Ted, and watch your fucking mouth. That agreement was made a long time ago, and you’re not quite the Jack the Lad you once were, if you know what I mean.’
‘I stay out of your business; you stay out of mine.’
‘I’m thinking of renegotiating. Besides, little missy here has been messing in my business. Beat up one of my boys, cut another. Something has to be done. You know that, Ted.’
Ted turned to Beth looking less than pleased.
‘Do I look like a fucking little missy to you?’ Beth demanded.
McGurk looked her up and down, an expression of exaggerated distaste on his features. ‘You’re too fucking ugly to rape. Your sister, on the other hand, she was proper rape material.’
Beth went for him. Ted, moving surprisingly quickly, grabbed her and managed to hold her back. McGurk just laughed.
‘Enough… Beth, not here… That’s enough!’ Somehow the words got through, made their way through the red, and Beth started to calm down. ‘Isn’t that what they call overcompensation, McGurk? Didn’t think you liked the ladies.’ He glanced at McGurk’s two minders.
‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?! What are you trying to say, you cunt?!’
‘Just hear you like to break your boys in,’ Ted said, still holding on to Beth. Ted looked at the minders one after another. Neither of them would meet his eyes. McGurk’s face was red and furious. Ted whispered to Beth, ‘I’ve got to let you go. You go for him and you’re on your own. Understand? Now get a grip.’ Beth nodded and he let go of her.
‘They need to know who’s boss, that’s all! It just establishes, you know…’
‘Dominance?’ Ted asked innocently.
‘Yeah, like a wolf! You’re not a fucking faggot if you’re doing it to them!’ McGurk screamed. ‘I’m happily married and plenty on the side! You go around saying things like that and you could get yourself badly hurt. Know what I mean?! Now give us the bitch.’
‘That’s not going to happen, and this isn’t a good time to be doing this. The city’s crawling with plod.’
‘Either she’s one of yours, in which case we come back mob-handed, or she’s not and you give her over. Save yourself the fucking trouble.’ McGurk moved closer to Ted, leaning in towards him. ‘Look, I get it. You were a big man when I was coming up, a hard man. I had to show respect. But look at you now. Too many fags, too many doughnuts, you got high on your own supply. Well, fat anyway. We can just take her now – you know that – but I’m still trying to show you some respect, okay? Let you get out of this with a bit of dignity.’ Beth looked at Ted. She was about to go with McGurk. This wasn’t Ted’s problem; she’d brought this down on him. Then she saw how angry he was. The big man was shaking with rage.
‘For a piece of shit like you to think you can even talk to me like that…’ he managed. McGurk backed up. Shifting posture. Beth decided she was going to go for the guy with the gun first. Ted didn’t know about the gun.
Then they came, everyone who worked at the amusements. Many were not physically impressive but some of them were. A lot of it was hard physical work. Men and women. The youngest to the oldest, a lot of them carrying whatever makeshift weapon they could lay their hands on.
‘That supposed to scare me?’ McGurk asked, sneering at the show people’s approach.