Kate found herself hauled intoa fetid, airless dump of a room overlooking the arena. The walls were plastered with tacky posters of bikes and airbrushed bikini-bimbos, and the one table was stacked high with hi-fi separates and computer games. In the corner was a pile of guns, bats and just about anything you could classify as an offensive weapon.

Swagger crouched over a CD player and stabbed at the buttons until a blast of thrash metal spewed out of a huge pair of speakers. ‘To get us in the mood,’ he said hoarsely, turning to face her.

Kate was beginning to feel nauseous. ‘If music be the food of love, party on,’ she said, deadpan. Then she tried to curl her lips into what she hoped was a seductive smile. ‘Listen, Swag … D’you have a bathroom? I kind of need to freshen up.’

He took a step closer, his bulk massive and threatening. ‘You smell good to me.’

She batted her eyelids. ‘Pretty please?’

‘Down the hall,’ he said, gesturing to the right. ‘Don’t be long.’ He gave her a gruesome smile. ‘Or else I’ll come find you.’

‘I’ll be right back, sugar,’ she said, all doe-eyed. ‘And I don’t want to see so many clothes on you when I come back … stud.’

Swagger guffawed, leaned in and placed a slobbery kiss on her neck.

Kate could smell the blood on his breath. Her flesh crawled and she almost gagged, but she whispered in his ear, ‘You won’t believe what I’m going to do to you …’

He grinned and smacked his lips.

He actually believed she wanted him. He’d bought it –and she’d bought herself time. As he turned back to his hi-fi and started fiddling with the graphic equaliser, she discreetly lifted a metal crowbar from his pile of weapons and backed out of the office.

Once alone in the corridor she ran for the bathroom. As she threw open the door, she almost heaved –the air was rank, the floor was wet with puddles of God-knew-what. The toilets were cracked and filthy, most of the doors hanging off their hinges. The bulk of the grimy tiles had long since crumbled away from the damp walls.

And the windows had been boarded up and barred.

Keeping calm, Kate grabbed a slimy wooden mop from the wet floor. Swiftly, she rammed the shaft through the metal ‘D’ of the door handle and jammed the end of it behind a chipped washbasin. Now the door was jammed shut. It might buy her a little time.

She ran over to the nearest window. Thankfully, the sound of Swagger’s music was booming dully down the corridor, and covered the sound of splitting wood as she used the crowbar to lever off a panel and smashed through the dirty glass so she could see outside.