Page 3 of Savage Justice

The girl is there, huddled beside the wheel arch. She’s shaking. Tears stream down her face. She shuffles away from me with a whining sound.

I’m no good with kids, but some sort of instinct kicks in. Trying to get hold of her will only make things worse. I throw the crowbar aside and back off, my hands outstretched.

“My name’s Nico. I saw what happened at the bus stop. I saw that bas— that man grab you. You can get out of there now, if you want.”

She shakes her head.

“That man can’t hurt you. We won’t let him. We need to take you home. Would you like that?”

Her mouth works, but no words come out.

“Your mummy will be wondering where you are. Shall we go and find her?”

She stares at me for several more seconds, then nods.

I hold out my hand. “You’re safe now. Come on out of there.”

She edges forward and has just reached the doors when there’s an ear-splitting scream. Obviously, Tony has his man and he’s dealing with him. The girl freezes, her eyes like saucers.

“That’s what happens to bad men who attack little girls at bus stops,” I explain. “Shall we take you home now?”

To my amazement, she smiles. And nods. She holds out her arms to me, and I lift her down.

I drop to my haunches. “Did he hurt you?” I don’t think he could have. He didn’t have the time or opportunity, she was in the back of the van and he was driving. Even so, I feel compelled to ask.

She rubs her arm. “I banged my elbow.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

More head shaking. “I lost my bag. I dropped it when… when…”

“I saw.” She’d been holding a rucksack when he’d grabbed her. It had fallen to the pavement. “I expect someone will have picked it up for you. Shall we go and see?”

“Okay.”

“Would you like to sit in my car for a moment, just until my friend gets back?”

If she says ‘no’, I’m at a loss. But I’ll understand and I won’t force the issue. We’ll have to fall back on the police after all, though I can’t see how we could leave her here on her own for them to find. I don’t relish the prospect to explaining the gunshot damage to the van tyres, not to mention whatever injuries Tony has inflicted on the driver.

Talking of which, he saunters back from around a corner, flicking dust off his jeans.

I raise one eyebrow.

“Broke his legs. Both of them. He’ll be going nowhere,” he whispers, for my ears only. “And I took his phone off him so he can’t call for help.” He beams at my small companion and offers her his hand. “My name’s Tony. What are you called?”

She places her small hand in his. “Lucy.”

“Well, Lucy. You’ve had quite an adventure, but you’ll be wanting your tea now, I expect.”

“I want my mummy.” She’s starting to whimper again. Shock, no doubt.

“Let’s go and find her, then. Where do you live?”

Lucy rattles off the name of one of the more affluent streets on an outlying upmarket estate in the city. I know the area well, I used to deliver newspapers there when I was a kid, and as a teen I liked to cruise the neighbourhood looking for high-end cars to nick.

Lucy makes no protest about hopping in the back seat of the SUV. I consider sitting next to her but decide that might be a bit overwhelming. I settle for checking her seat belt, then getting back in the driver’s seat.

Tony had the good sense to stash the phone he confiscated in the glove box and put the rifle out of sight while I was occupied with Lucy, so we’re soon on the road and heading back into Glasgow.

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