Page 232 of The Black Trilogy

“And do you know his address?”

I put the kettle on to make coffee. At this time of night, instant would have to do. I’d changed my mind about going to bed.

Tia reeled off an address near where I’d picked her up. “Why do you want to know?” she asked again.

“So I can get your bag back.” And give Theo a piece of my mind, although I wasn’t about to tell Tia that.

“You can’t! He’s almost six feet tall!”

“Trust me, it won’t be a problem. Does he live alone?”

“Yes, his parents bought him the flat. But please don’t go. My bag doesn’t matter, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I promise I won’t get hurt. One thing: if he calls you, pick up.”

I led Tia upstairs, still fretting, and found her a pair of pyjamas and a spare bedroom. I always slept in an old T-shirt and a pair of boxers, usually stolen from Black or Nick, and Mack favoured the kind of frilly stuff people wore in movies, so the pyjamas were Dan’s.

Then I went out in search of Theo. It was just before sunrise when I drew up outside a tidy Victorian converted into two apartments. One up, one down. Theo lived in the bottom one. The lock was so basic a child could have picked it, and it only took me a few seconds to get inside. A pair of muddy boots lay abandoned by the mat in the small, unkempt hallway, and a couple of coats hung on a doorknob. I spotted Tia’s Michael Kors bag dumped on a side table next to a set of car keys and a dying spider plant.

I peered in the top. Her wallet was in there, plus a small bottle containing her pills. Good. I’d pick it up on my way out.

Theo lay snoring on the bed, half covered by the duvet in a room that reeked of stale sweat. The moonlight shining through the gap in the curtains showed Tia was spot on about his height, but he wasn’t in great shape. He’d gone pudgy around the middle.

As I stood there, I felt the way I had many times before. No joy, but a touch of anticipation and the satisfaction that I was about to fix one more problem with this messed up world.

I flipped the light on. “Rise and shine, sweetheart.”

Theo woke, groggily at first, then he suddenly came alive when he realised somebody was standing in his room.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

I ignored the first question but answered the second. “I’m here to give you a little lesson on how to treat women.”

I picked his phone up off the desk and thumbed through it, but he didn’t like that much.

“Hey! Put that down!” He sprang out of bed and charged at me, arms outstretched. Smooth, Theo, real smooth. I stepped to my left and used my leg to sweep his feet out from underneath him. He landed with a resounding thump, and I grabbed the chair next to me. Before he could get up, I positioned it so the strut between the back legs was over his neck then sat down.

He flailed around, but he was trapped. I waited patiently until he went still then put the phone next to his hand. “You’re going to call Tia and apologise.”

“Get lost,” he spat.

“Not gonna happen. I don’t go for the forceful type. Now, make the call.”

“In your dreams.”

“We’ve been over that. And take as much time as you like. I can guarantee I’m more comfortable than you.”

After fifteen minutes, Theo got a cramp in his leg and finally decided to dial Tia. But his apology was somewhat half-hearted.

Not good enough.

I used my foot to press down a bit harder on his windpipe.

“Once more, with feeling.”

He did better that time, and once he’d dropped the phone, I let him up and took a few steps back, waiting.

As soon as he scrambled to his feet, he came at me again, winding his arm back to get a good punch in. I ducked to the side and, no kidding, he actually ran into the wall.

---