‘Uh-huh. They ain’t got a choice.’ Swagger sniggered. ‘Let combat begin, y’all!’ he yelled.

With the words still ringing around the auditorium, Eric lurched into action. First he pushed one of the Average Joes in the first group flat on his ass, then he took a swing at the stocky woman on the opposing side. She cried out and went down. Some of the others eyed each other nervously. One of the junkie-guys just stared down at his feet, clutching his head like this nightmare would all just go away if he only wished hard enough.

No chance. Eric whacked him in the stomach, doubled him over.

Kate looked away, her stomach twisting, but every new shout and cry tugged her reluctant gaze back. She ended up seeing the violence as it unfolded in a series of sickening snapshots. The junkie collapsing to the concrete, clutching his head … The Average Joe running to kick him while he was down … The blonde girl raking her nails down a muscle man’s face … The stocky woman grabbing her by the throat.

‘C’mon!’ yelled Swagger. ‘You’re not even trying! I know what you need, people. And whoever brings Eric down gets double!’

‘What do they need?’ Kate asked him.

Swagger wasn’t listening. He breathed in deep, like he was a soccer coach savouring the early morning air while his team warmed up. ‘Work together now! Good job!’ He clapped his big hand down hard on Kate’s shoulders. ‘Don’t it make you feel good?’

You’re mad, thought Kate. You’re truly insane. But she could only sit there helplessly as the fighting grew wilder and bloodier.

Chapter Five

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CHAPTER FIVE

Jasmine banged on Dr Woollard’s door so hard that Tom thought she might put her slim little fist right through the wood. He checked his watch: almost five a.m. Rico was leaning on him drowsily. In the car he had kept falling into a fitful sleep, only to wake himself again by coughing.

They had left the stolen car a couple of blocks away and Jasmine had led the way to a shabby-looking brownstone on the fringes of Harlem, overlooking a vacant lot.

‘Do you often come calling so early?’ Tom asked, as Jasmine knocked even harder.

‘He don’t exactly keep office hours,’ she said. ‘And he ain’t always strictly sober. But he’s plenty smart. Supposed to be a genius or something.’ She frowned. ‘Least, he was once.’

Tom heard a grumbling voice coming towards the door.