“The other American,” Dog Collar said. “He your friend?”

“Does it matter?”

“He killed all three of them, like he was taking a stroll. Just sliced them up without a care.”

Myron tried another avenue. “Did you know those guys?”

“Course. Terence, Matt, and Peter. Used to beat the shit out of me, all three of them. If I had a pound in my pocket, they wanted me to give them two.” He looked up at Myron. “If you had something to do with it, well, I’d shake your hand.”

“I didn’t,” Myron said.

“You just want the boy they was hassling.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story. He’s in need of rescue.”

Dog Collar frowned.

“Do you know him, yes or no?”

“Yeah,” Dog Collar said. “Course I know him.”

“Can you take me to him?”

Some wariness came back to the kid’s eyes. “You still got the five hundred pounds?”

“I do.”

“Give it to me now.”

“How do I know you won’t run again?”

“Because I saw what your friend did. You’ll kill me if I run.”

Myron wanted to tell him that wasn’t so, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to keep him scared. Dog Collar stuck out his palm. Myron gave him the five hundred pounds. The kid jammed the money into his shoe.

“You won’t tell anyone you gave it to me?”

“No.”

“Come on, then. I’ll take you to him.”

Chapter 6

Myron tried to chat up the kid as they hopped on a train at Gospel Oak. For the first part of the ride, the kid jammed in earphones and turned up the volume so loudly Myron could clearly hear the misogynistic lyrics through the kid’s ear canal.

Myron wondered whether the phone’s signal could still reach Win. When they changed lines at Highbury and Islington, the kid turned off the music and said, “What’s your name?”

“Myron. What’s yours?”

“Myron what?”

“Myron Bolitar.”

“You’re pretty good with your fists. Took care of Dex like he was wet tissue.”

Myron wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he said, “Thanks.”

“Where in the States you from?”

Curious question. “New Jersey.”

“You’re a big bloke. You play rugby?”

“No. I . . . I played basketball in school. How about you?”

The kid made a scoffing sound. “School. Right. Where did you go to school?”

“A university called Duke,” Myron said. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How come you’re working the streets?” Myron asked.

The kid tried looking tough, but as with most kids, it came out as more sullen than threatening. “What’s it to you?”

“I don’t mean it as an insult or anything. I just hear most of the, uh, business is online nowadays. It’s on Grindr and Scruff and apps like that.”

The kid lowered his head. “It’s punishment.”

“What’s punishment?”

“The streets.”

“For what?”

The train stopped. “We get off here,” the kid said, rising. “Come on.”

The street outside the station was crowded and noisy. They headed down Brixton Road, past a Sainsbury’s store, and ducked into a shop front called AdventureLand.