The Deadly Game(36)

‘No,’ said Jake.

‘I understand,’ said Munro. ‘You’re worried about your own safety. So we’ll come to you. Just tell me where you are and we’ll collect you. We’ll send our best people. They’ll make sure you’re safe . . .’

Suddenly, it hit Jake that Munro knew where he was. He remembered what he’d been told, that people could be tracked by the signal from their mobile phone. Munro was using this call to pinpoint Jake’s position. Quite likely, even now, Munro’s people were on their way to him. And maybe Gareth’s people as well. Gareth’s secret services certainly had that same technology.

Fumbling with nervous fingers, Jake opened his mobile phone, took out the battery and SIM card, and slipped them into one pocket, with the dismantled remains of his phone into another. He looked up, and saw a black car pull up about a hundred metres away from him. Two men got out of the back, both dressed in dark suits. Their heads turned swiftly from side to side, scanning the crowds in the street, searching. Plain-clothes police, or secret agents, or Munro’s men? It didn’t matter, Jake just knew that he had to get away.

He ducked down a side street and found himself heading down one of the short streets that linked Oxford Street with Soho Square. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of the two men turning towards his direction, just before he nipped into the street. He ran, and as he did he heard shouts of complaints from behind him. The two men were obviously pushing people aside as they gave chase.

Jake ducked down as he ran, hoping to keep out of sight. Were the men armed? Were they the people who’d beaten Robert almost to death?

He ran, pushing people aside himself, desperate to get away from his pursuers, but the crowd on the street were too busy. His only chance was to run out into the road, but if he did that he risked them getting a clear look at him, and possibly a clear shot.

Suddenly he saw an alley through an archway, just to his right. He ran towards it, and immediately turned right into yet another narrow alleyway, and as he did so he felt a hand grab him.

Fear surged through him and he turned, and came face to face with a short black teenage girl.

‘In the dumpster!’ she hissed at him.

‘What?’ said Jake, bewildered.

She punched him so that he turned round, and he saw a teenage boy standing by a tall dumpster, holding a hand ready for him to use as a step.

‘Come on, man!’ the boy said urgently, in a whisper.

Jake ran to him, put his foot in the boy’s open palm, and found himself lifted up, and then falling into the large metal box, landing on a foul-smelling mix of paper, cardboard and rotting vegetables.

Immediately, he heard raised voices from just outside the dumpster, the boy’s voice, angry, challenging: ‘What you doin’ smackin’ me like that?’

‘I didn’t,’ came the curt reply.

‘Yes you did,’ said the boy. ‘That’s assault, that is. I could bring the law in and have you arrested. Get compensation.’

‘Shut up,’ snapped the man. ‘Where did he go?’

‘Who?’ came the girl’s voice.

‘The man who ran through that arch,’ said another voice, the second man.

‘Why you wanna know?’ asked the girl.

‘That’s our business,’ said the first man sharply.

‘Yeah? Well, that’s what this is, business!’ said the girl firmly. ‘How much?’

Oh God, thought Jake, they’re going to sell me out! That’s what this is about, street kids making money!

There was a pause, then the first man said: ‘Here.’

The girl responded with a derisory laugh.

‘A fiver!’ she said. ‘You jokin’ me? A fiver!’

‘We’re losing time,’ said the second man urgently.

Immediately, the first man said: ‘Here.’

The girl said, ‘A twenty. That’s more like it.’ Then, with a smile that Jake heard in her voice, she said: ‘You must want him bad. What’s he done?’

‘Just tell us where he went or I’ll have that back!’ grated the first man.

‘Whoa!’ said the girl. ‘No need to get crazy.’

No, begged Jake silently. Don’t tell them. If I’d known this was about money, I’d have given you every penny.

‘He went that way,’ said the boy, ‘down Dean Street.’

Jake heard a grunt, then the clatter of shoes running off. There was a pause, then a bang on the side of the dumpster. He raised his head and looked down at the boy and girl.

‘They gone,’ said the boy.

‘Thanks,’ said Jake.

He struggled to get a grip on the top of the dumpster, and then climbed out and dropped down to the pavement.