Code A.

Do it, Max.

But I couldn’t do it. Because I had just placed my phone on a silver tray and watched it being taken away.

‘Do you know what a bar fine is?’ Madam Theresa asked me.

I forced myself to look at her.

‘It’s a south-east Asian convention,’ I said. ‘A bar fine is the fee I pay to the house if I choose to leave with one of your employees. The bar fine compensates you for the loss of their employment for the evening.’

She clapped her hands and smiled.

‘A man of the world!’ she said. ‘And of course, after the payment of the bar fine, any arrangement you make with the girl is up to you and her.’ She leaned closer. ‘But if you would like a more permanent arrangement, then we can discuss terms.’

Edie had taken her seat with Rabia Demir. A man from the bar approached them. It was almost as if he was asking for a dance. Edie shook her head and indicated Rabia, who appeared to be struggling to stay awake.

I again forced myself to look at Madam Theresa.

‘What does a more permanent arrangement mean?’ I said.

‘We can discuss the details later. For the time being, let’s just say that none of our girls have to be home by a certain time.’ Her eyes narrowed with something like hunger and she leaned close enough for me to smell the Chanel. ‘Can you imagine the possibilities, Jack?’

‘I think you’re implying that none of them are going to be missed,’ I laughed, leaning back. ‘Because they’re all in this country illegally.’

‘Sound good?’

‘Just what I’m looking for.’

Another man walked across the room and approached Edie. She again shook her head and indicated Rabia Demir.

I saw now that a number of the women had the same long drink in their hand. One of them sniffed it delicately, as if aware that she was possibly holding a cocktail of fruit juice and Rohypnol. The women all looked scared. They all looked as if they were in deeper than they ever planned to be.

A door at the far end of the corridor opened and a man came out muttering angrily in Russian. It was the first raised voice that I had heard in the penthouse.

‘Excuse me,’ Madam Theresa said, and went over to attend to the man.

I looked at Edie, but she was totally focused on Rabia Demir. As Madam Theresa placated the Russian, a young Chinese woman in an elaborate white wedding dress came slowly out of the room he had just left. She leaned against the bar, ignored by everyone, as Madam Theresa called across a hard-faced blonde in a red dress. As I watched her deftly handle this minor crisis I glimpsed the experience of more than half a century in the whoring industry.

Madam Theresa came back to join me, only slightly flustered.