After half an hour of warming up, McNamara split the squad up into groups of five and they put on coloured vests. Gabe was teamed up with Watts, Mancini, Wood and Babacar, the green team. ‘Let’s have a few quick games,’ said McNamara. ‘Green against Blue, Red against Yellow.’

  Blue team consisted of Reid, Tim Maplethorpe, Devereau, and two of the reserves. ‘Tenner says we trounce you,’ said Devereau.

  ‘I’ll take that bet,’ said Wood.

  McNamara blew his whistle. ‘Don’t even joke about gambling on games!’ he shouted. ‘You know the boss will have you off the squad for that! Right, Blues and Greens on Pitch A, Yellow and Red on Pitch B with Tommy. And take it easy. No pushing, no shoving, no silly tackles. And I want to see you all creating space. Chelsea are going to keep you all on tight leashes.’

  Wood started to howl like a wolf and the squad laughed. ‘Very funny, Jason,’ said McNamara. ‘Let’s see if you’re still laughing at three o’clock.’ He blew his whistle again. ‘Come on, let’s get started.’

  Gabe looked over at the changing rooms. More than anything he wanted to call Ray to find out what was happening.

  McNamara blew his whistle again. ‘Come on, Gabe!’ shouted the coach. ‘Look lively.’

  Gabe waved in acknowledgement and jogged over to join the rest of the Green team on Pitch A, though football was the last thing on his mind. All he could think about was how terrified Laura and Ollie must be, and how powerless he was to do anything to help.

  CHAPTER 22

  Ray left his car on double yellow lines and jogged into Chinatown. Ray was a big fan of Chinese food and over the years had visited most of the restaurants in the area. Den had done business there to, and it was through one of the business deals that Ray had met Jimmy Chen. Jimmy was British-born but his parents had flown him back to Hong Kong during his school holidays to stay with his grandparents to make sure he remained fluent in Cantonese and Mandarin. What they didn’t expect was for Jimmy Chen to fall in with the 14K Tai Huen Chai triad when he was in his early teens and by the time he graduated from South Bank University with a degree in economics he was a fully-fledged White Paper Fan, a triad administrator. During the week Jimmy worked for a bank in the City from where he laundered much of the triad’s London profits, but at the weekends he still helped out at his parents’ Chinese supermarket.

  Den used 14K’s connections to ship cannabis from Thailand to the UK, and much of the money he had paid had gone through Jimmy. Money was taken in cash to the supermarket and Jimmy always insisted on giving them a receipt, in Chinese, saying that his bosses at 14K insisted on it. Ray knew that Den wouldn’t be happy about him calling on Jimmy unannounced, but Ray didn’t see that he had any choice.

  The supermarket was busy, packed with Asians stocking up with the products that they couldn’t get at a regular British supermarket, things like duck’s feet and pig entrails and all sorts of exotic vegetables. Jimmy was sitting behind one of the cash registers and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Ray. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

  ‘I need a word in private,’ said Ray.

  ‘I’m busy, mate. Up to my eyes.’ He gestured at the queue of Asian housewives lined up in front of him.

  ‘It won’t take long,’ said Ray.

  ‘Mate, seriously, you’ll have to come back.’

  Ray opened his jacket just enough for Jimmy to see the butt of his gun. ‘I could fire a shot into the ceiling and see what that does for trade,’ he said.

  ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ hissed Jimmy. One of the Chinese housewives barked at him in Cantonese but he ignored her.

  ‘Jimmy, back room, now. Or I’ll start making a fuss.’

  Jimmy cursed in Chinese, stood up, and apologised to the customers. An elderly man sitting at the other cash register shouted over at Jimmy and Jimmy waved his hands and shouted back. Jimmy pushed open the door that led to the store room and Ray followed him inside. It was where Jimmy wrote out his receipts. There were shelves piled high with sacks of rice and cans of produce, with a small metal desk and chair in the far corner next to a metal filing cabinet. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ asked Jimmy, trying to act aggressively but failing miserably. He was a good six inches shorter than Ray and probably half the muscle mass and from the look of him wasn’t privy to any of the exotic Chinese martial arts. Ray back-heeled the door shut. ‘I need your help, Jimmy,’ he said.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here, Ray?’

  ‘If you’d shut the fuck up I’ll tell you.’ Ray took out his phone.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here. This is my business, what if the cops are watching me, this isn’t….’

  Ray held up a hand to silence him. ‘Chill, Jimmy.’

  ‘Chill? What the fuck do you mean, chill? You come in here waving your gun around…’

  Ray slapped him across the face and Jimmy fell back. ‘I did not wave my gun Jimmy, will you shut the fuck up and listen to me. I don’t have much time.’

  Jimmy’s lip had split and blood trickled down his chin. Jimmy touched the blood and then stared at is fingertips. ‘What the fuck, Ray?’

  ‘Just fucking chill, Jimmy. Take deep breaths and calm the fuck down.’ Ray held the phone in front of Jimmy’s face. ‘You ever seen a tattoo like this? Probably some Chinese enforcer. Triads maybe.’

  Jimmy squinted his eyes. They were watering and he was having trouble focusing. Ray thrust the phone into his trembling hands. ‘Zoom for yourself.’

  Jimmy fiddled with the phone, stared at the screen, then nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s Teddy Kang. What’s he done?’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘Yeah, I’d recognise that scorpion anywhere. And the Chinese character for the number seven. That’s how many men he’s supposed to have killed in China.’

  Ray took the phone back and put it in his pocket, ignoring the question. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Enforcer for CK Lee. You heard of him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lee’s a nasty piece of work and Kang’s his red pole.’

  ‘What the fuck’s a red pole?’

  ‘That’s what the triads call their enforcers.’

  ‘This CK Lee is 14K?’

  Jimmy shook his head. ‘Wop Hop To. His boss is a guy called Yung Jaw-Lung. He’s even nastier than Lee. Wop Hop To are mega in Hong Kong and San Francisco, not so big here.’

  ‘Where can I find this Lee?’

  Jimmy shrugged. Ray drew back his hand to slap Jimmy again and Jimmy flinched. ‘For fuck’s sake, Ray, what’s wrong with you? If I knew, I’d tell you. I know him, but I don’t know where he lives.’

  ‘What about Kang?’

  Jimmy wiped his bleeding chin again. ‘Ray, mate, they don’t hand out business cards. It’s like, I don’t know where you live, right? But I know you.’ He dabbed his chin with his sleeve. ‘Though I’m starting to wish I didn’t.’

  ‘What do you know about Lee? What’s his story?’

  ‘Like I said, he’s a nasty piece of work. Extortion, protection rackets, gambling.’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Not that I know of. Gambling is his big thing.’

  ‘Football?’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘Football, sure. Horses, too. And he runs illegal casinos. Chinese places, you wouldn’t get a look-in. What’s your problem with him?’

  ‘That’s for me to know, Jimmy.’

  ‘No problem. But be careful. I heard that Lee just hacked the finger off a guy who owed him money. That’s his thing. He charges interest in fingers.’

  ‘This guy who lost a finger? You know him?’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘Sammy Wu. Been around for ever.’

  ‘Got an address?’

  ‘What do you think I am, the Yellow fucking Pages?’ He flinched as Ray drew back his hand. ‘No, I don’t have an address for him.’

  ‘Where does he hang out?’

  ‘If he fell foul of CK Lee there’s a good chance he’d have gone to his illegal gambling den, above a restaurant in Lisle Street. The one with the ducks in the window. Top floor.’

  ‘Like a casino?’

  ‘Some mahjong but mainly sports betting. You’re wasting your time, though. There’s no way they’ll let a gweilo in.’

  ‘Gweilo?’

  ‘Foreigner.’

  ‘Fuck me, Jimmy. This is my country. I’m not a fucking foreigner.’

  ‘You are in Chinatown. And here you always will be.’ He wiped his still bleeding mouth. ‘Are we done?’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks.’ Ray headed for the door.

  ‘Why are you so fucking grouchy?’ asked Jimmy, dabbing at his chin again.

  Ray stopped and turned to look at him. ‘My family’s in trouble, this Lee’s behind it, I think.’

  ‘You should have said,’ muttered Jimmy. ‘Nothing matters more than family. I get that.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for sorry, Ray.’

  Ray hurried out, ignoring the accusatory stares of the Chinese housewives queuing at the tills.

  CHAPTER 23

  Laura rolled over as she heard the door open. It was one of her captors, as always wearing a ski mask. She fixed him with her eyes and grunted through the duct tape that had been wound around her mouth after she had made the FaceTime call to Gabe.

  ‘No one can hear you,’ said the man. He was dressed in black and had a brown leather shoulder holster on top of his pullover in which nestled a grey gun.

  She increased the urgency of her grunts until eventually he walked over to the bed and looked down at her.

  ‘I told you, shut up.’

  She shook her head, held his gaze, and grunted again.

  The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a flicknife. He pressed a chrome button on the side and the blade flicked out. It was at least six inches long and it glinted as he waved it back and forth over her face. Laura kept trying to talk. She doubted that he would kill her, at least not while they needed Gabe to carry out their orders. And if he was going to hurt her, a slap would be more effective. The knife was to intimidate, that was all. ‘Shut up,’ said the man. She could see two tattoos on his right hand. A scorpion and a Chinese character. He was Chinese, she realised. She hadn’t noticed the eyes before but he was definitely Chinese.

  She began breathing hard and fast, the duct tape pulsing in and out. The man snarled at her, stuck the blade between her flesh and the tape, and cut off the gag. ‘Just let me talk, just for a minute,’ she gasped.

  ‘If you don’t shut up I’ll put the bag back over your head,’ said the man.

  ‘Listen to me, please. There’s no need to gag us.’

  ‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ said the man.

  ‘My son can’t breathe.’

  ‘He’s okay.’

  ‘He’s not okay. I’m a doctor and I can tell you he’s not okay. If you gag a child like that and he throws up he can choke on his own vomit.’

  ‘He won’t throw up.’

  ‘And he’s asthmatic. He has breathing problems.’ That was a lie but she would say anything to get them to take the gag off Ollie.

  ‘Asthmatic?’

  ‘He has trouble breathing. If he gets upset, and what you’re doing is upsetting him.’

  The man turned to look at Ollie, and he shrugged. ‘He looks okay.’

  ‘Are you a father?’

  ‘Why do you ask that?’

  ‘Because if you were, and something like this happened to your child, you’d want them to be as comfortable as possible. You wouldn’t want him to be tied up like an animal would you.’ The man looked at Ollie, then back at her. ‘Look, we won’t shout or scream, and even if we did I don’t think anyone would hear us, would they? We’re tied up so we can’t run away. Can’t you just take off our gags? At least then if he’s scared I can reassure him.’ She forced a smile. ‘Please? Can you do that?’

  The man held her gaze for several seconds, then he nodded slowly. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But if either of you make a sound, I’ll have to put the tape back on.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Laura. ‘We’ll be quiet.’

  The man went over to the sofa. Ollie looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear. ‘It’s okay, Ollie, don’t worry,’ Laura called over to him. ‘He’s going to take the gag off your mouth. Just take deep breaths and relax, everything is going to be fine.’

  The man used the knife to carefully cut the duct tape away from Ollie’s mouth. ‘Mum!’ he said. ‘Mum what’s happening!’

  ‘Shush, Ollie,’ said Laura. ‘We have to be quiet.’

  ‘But what’s happening?’

  ‘Ollie, listen to me. Everything is going to be all right but we have to be quiet. Can you do that for me? Just for a while.’

  ‘Okay, mum,’ said Ollie, but she could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

  ‘Just pretend it’s a game,’ said Laura.

  The man straightened up, still holding the knife. He tossed the pieces of duct tape onto the floor. ‘Thank you,’ said Laura. ‘You’re a good man.’

  ‘Just keep quiet,’ said the man.

  She tried to smile as brightly as possible. ‘Can I bother you for something else?’

  His look hardened. ‘What?’

  ‘Just water,’ she said. ‘I’m really, really thirsty and I’m sure my son is too. If you could get us some water that would be wonderful.’

  The man waved the knife at her and then nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I will get you water.’

  Her smile widened. ‘That’s so nice of you, thank you.’

  The man grunted and left the room. Laura listened intently and heard the man head down stairs. ‘Ollie, can you hear me?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, mum.’

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she said. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Who are they, mum?’

  ‘They’re just bad men, but they won’t hurt us.’

  ‘They want daddy to lose the game, right?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Will he do that?’

  ‘He’ll do whatever he has to so that we get home safely,’ she said. ‘Just trust in him, and trust in me. Everything is going to be okay. I know this is a bit scary, but think of it like a movie. It’ll be all right by the end.’

  ‘Okay, mum.’

  Laura bit down on her lip as she heard the uncertainty in her son’s voice. Was it going to be all right? Life wasn’t like a movie, everything wasn’t always all right by the time the credits rolled. Bad things often happened to good people, especially when the bad people were wearing ski masks. But the ski masks were a good sign, Laura realised. If they didn’t want them to see their faces, that meant there was a good chance they would be released when it was all over. That was the hope she clung to as she lay on her side and stared at the wall.

  CHAPTER 24

  ‘Earth to Gabe!’ shouted McNamara. The coach was standing some ten feet away from Gabe but the footballer didn’t react. ‘Gabe!’ shouted McNamara.

  Gabe shook his head. ‘Sorry, what?’

  McNamara jogged over. ‘Are you ok?’ asked the coach. ‘It’s like you’re a million miles away.’

  ‘Sorry, Joe. I didn’t sleep well last night.’ Gabe couldn’t think of a better lie.

  ‘I need you on top form for this game, Gabe,’ said McNamara. ‘You’re the captain and you need to be leading from the front.’

  Gabe nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. He jumped up and down on the spot. ‘Raring to go.’

  McNamara patted him on the back. ‘I’m depending on you, Gabe.’ He put his whistle between his lips and blew hard. ‘Right guys, pair up and let’s do some stretching.’

  Gabe paired off with Michael Devereau. Following McNamara’s instructions, they stood back to back and linked arms, taking it in turns to bend forward and take the other man’s weight. Gabe did the moves on auto-pilot. All he could think about was Laura and Ollie and the danger they were in.

  CHAPTER 25

  Ray hurried down Lisle Street. Chinatown was busy and there were people waiting outside most of the restaurants. He found the one with a line of roast ducks hanging from a stainless steel bar in the window. To the left of the entrance was a red door. There was an intercom next to it with a single button. He stabbed at it with his finger and after a few seconds someone spoke in guttural Chinese. ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ he said. There was no response. He stabbed at the button again but there was only silence. He looked up and saw a CCTV camera pointing down at him. He grinned and flashed the camera a thumbs up but nothing happened. ‘Bastards,’ he muttered, and walked across the road to stand in front of a dim-sum restaurant. He looked up at the top floor of the building opposite. The windows had been covered with what looked like aluminium foil. The roof seemed to be flat and he could see the rims of two large satellite dishes. He paced up and down as he considered his options, which basically came down to abseiling down from the roof or finding someone to let him in. He looked at his watch and cursed. It would soon be mid-day, just three hours from kick off. As the minutes ticked by he considered going back to see Jimmy Chen and press him for more information, though he guessed that would be flogging a dead horse.

  Two middle-aged Chinese women in long wool coats and with almost matching floppy hats walked by the duck restaurant, deep in conversation. But when they reached the red door they stopped talking and the shorter of the two reached up and pressed the button. Ray put his phone to his ear and faked a call as he jogged across the road. The women were just disappearing into the hallway when Ray reached the door, and he caught it just before it closed. He eased it open and slipped inside. The women were chatting away again and hadn’t noticed him. He let them go up the stairs and around the corner before he headed up after them.

  There was a door on the first floor but the two women kept on going. Ray followed, treading softly so as to make no sound. There was another door on the second floor. Ray heard them knock and he hurried up so that he arrived just as the women were going inside. Ray heard loud clicking noises and the occasional dull thud. He followed them, keeping his face away from whoever had opened the door. There was one long room with a bar to the left and a dozen small tables where mahjong was being played, mainly by elderly Chinese women. They were banging their tiles on the table with every move, and no one seemed to care about the near-deafening noise. At the far end of the room were four large screen televisions, all showing sport. One was tuned to horse racing and three were showing football programs, including Sky TV. Ray looked over at the screen and realised the view was the pitch where Gabe would be playing. More than a dozen Chinese men were standing around watching the screens. Moving among them were two Chinese teenagers in grey suits who were constantly tapping on iPads, presumably collecting bets. There was a gents toilet and a ladies at the end of the bar.

 

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