Page 184 of The Black Trilogy

Walking at my current pace, I could be mistaken for innocent. Maybe the guy changed direction because he was lost? If so, he’d have to find someone else to help with directions. Or perhaps he was an axe murderer? Oh, that was so much more comforting, but I could carry on walking and hope for the best.

Or I could run.

If he’d noticed the wallet was missing, running would make me look pretty guilty. If I ditched it, would he still come after me? Was he the forgiving type?

Another glimpse, this time in a car mirror. He’d gained on me, still walking, but he looked to be about Jimmy’s height and his legs were a lot longer than mine. Could I outrun him? I wouldn’t win gold at the Olympics, but I’d had plenty of practice.

I risked a glance around.

You know that little sentence they print on wing mirrors? That objects in the reflection may be closer than they appear? Well, it was absolutely right. He was thirty yards behind me, and as I turned, his eyes locked on mine.

Oh, Jiminy Cricket. He knew.

I ran.

I hoped that as I was from the area and knew it well and he, being from the States hopefully didn’t, I’d be able to give him the slip. The slap of his leather-soled shoes on the paving slabs told me he’d broken into a run, and that spurred me to sprint faster. What kind of shape was he in? Which of us would run out of steam first?

JJ’s was a mile away, and I cursed myself for saving money by walking. Why hadn’t I taken the Tube or a cab like a normal person? Oh, yeah, because it was harder to steal wallets while riding in a cab.

Silly me.

His footsteps got louder and I realised I had no chance of making it back to JJ’s ahead of him, so I ducked left into a side street. The end was blocked, if I remembered rightly, by a fence with a small hole in it. A hole that should fit me but not him, and barbed wire topped the chain link, which was probably why some enterprising soul had cut the hole in the first place.

The road was narrow, little more than an alley, and with the high buildings either side, little moonlight got in. As I skidded to a halt at the end, a string of spluttered four-letter words spilled past my lips. The place had morphed into a building site. The fence I remembered had been replaced by a barrier of smooth wooden boards, at least eight feet high. Dim pictures pinned to it showed what the area would look like if the builders stopped drinking tea long enough to do any work.

I jumped at it and hooked my arms over the rough timber at the top. My ungainly scramble failed to get me over it, and I fell back to the ground, swearing again as I landed on one knee.

I glanced back.

The guy was almost on me, still moving fast. I didn’t have time for another run-up.

Curses flew from my mouth. Why had I been so stupid as to get myself into this mess? I promised the big man upstairs that if I got out of this, I’d never steal a wallet again. Not unless the mark was clearly too unfit to run, anyway.

Despite the fact I’d never been to church in my life, I looked to the heavens, praying for divine intervention.

And got it.

Scaffolding stretched skywards, covering the façade of the building next to me. A yellow sign told me to Keep off! Danger of death!

Well, I’d never been one for authority, had I?

I went up.

Luckily, pole dancing had formed a big part of my repertoire at Silk, which meant I knew how to shin up one pretty quickly. I could spin around and hang upside down too, although I appreciated those skills weren’t the most valuable in this particular situation. I shot up the scaffolding like I had a flamethrower behind me, hearing a muttered, “Are you insane?” from below as the man began climbing too.

And flipping heck, he was quick. He caught up with me by the sixth story, and as I heaved myself over the splintered edge onto the wooden platform, his hot breath washed across my neck. I rolled onto my back, feeling a fiery pain as something sharp ripped into my side. Ouch! As he crawled forwards over me, his dark eyes fixed on mine, and I did the only thing I could—swung at him with a vicious right hook while saying a silent “thank you” to JJ’s and all who trained there.

There was a satisfying crunch as the cartilage in his nose gave way, and he reeled back, grabbing onto a protruding piece of scaffold as he narrowly saved himself from going over the edge. I sprang up and ran to the other end of the platform, cursing the dead end where it butted against a wall. Should I go up or down? Even running on adrenaline, I didn’t have much strength left.

I hesitated too long.

He’d somehow recovered, and his arms snaked around me from behind and squeezed. Was the man part boa constrictor? I twisted in his grasp, bringing my right knee up, hard, and feeling it make a good, solid contact. The guy’s eyes bulged slightly and even started to water a bit, but his grip got tighter and he backed me into the wall, blocking my legs with his so I couldn’t try the same trick again.

What was wrong with him? Did he feel no pain? Was he even human?

He grinned, and without further warning, my legs were swept out from underneath me and I found myself lying on my back, my wrists pinned down either side of my head by his hands. He squashed my legs against the dirty boards as he sat on me, panting, blood dripping from his nose and landing on my face and chest.

What would it be this time? Murder or have him take what little innocence I had left? Having tried the latter twice, I’d almost have preferred to die. I had the idea that I should speak, start begging or something, but no words came out. Instead, I simply lay there, trying to burn through him with my glare.

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