The guy looked blank.
“It means a form of payment,” I said. “You need an offer. An acceptance. And a consideration. Take those three things, and do you know what you have?”
He didn’t reply.
“A contract,” I said. “Legally binding, under English common law. So. Come on. Time to deliver.”
He didn’t move.
“Thirty seconds,” I said. “That’s the timeframe you promised, just now? Which means you have thirty seconds to beat my brains out, if my friend doesn’t kiss you. Otherwise, you’re in breach of contract. And I don’t know about you, but I take breaches of contract very seriously.”
I held my left wrist out in front of me, pulled back my sleeve, and looked at my watch. Or at least pretended to. I was actually counting the seconds in my head, and focusing all my attention on the guy.
He did nothing.
I gave him an extra ten seconds, but he still didn’t react.
“OK,” I said. “That’s it. You’re in default. Time to make the call.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialed three consecutive nines, then looked the guy straight in the eye. And paused without hitting the green button.
“Although, we do have one alternative,” I said. “We could think about an alternative form of penalty.”
The guy stepped back towards his friend.
“Stop,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I want to know how much money you’ve got in your wallet.”
He didn’t answer.
“How much?” I said.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Three hundred. Four, maybe. Plus credit cards.”
“I don’t want the cards. Just the cash. Give it to me. Now.”
The guy reached into his jacket and produced a shiny, black leather wallet. He opened it, took out a fat wad of notes, and handed it to me.
“Good,” I said, putting my phone away. “I’ll consider that the first installment. Any time I see you in the future, you’re going to give me the same amount again. Understand?”
The guy nodded.
“Now leave,” I said. “And take your friend with you. I’m sick of looking at you.”
We watched them all the way to the end of the street, and when they turned the corner Melissa set off in the opposite direction.
“You coming?” she said.
I had to pick up the pace to keep up with her.
“I have to ask, David, mugging someone?” she said after we’d covered fifty yards in silence. “After everything you spouted off about in the garden? Was that all lies? Or have you switched sides? Honestly, I’m a little shocked.”
“Mugging that little weasel? Is that what you thought I was doing?”
“Wasn’t it? You threatened him. And you took his money. That sounds pretty textbook, to me.”
“I took his money, yes. But not for myself. I’m going to give it to the first homeless person I see.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.”
She slowed down a little.
“David, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor – that’s not your job,” she said. “In fact, that’s not anybody’s job.”
“Well, it should be someone’s job,” I said. “You saw how that guy behaved. Do you think it’s OK to treat people that way? To take whatever – or whoever – you want, just because you’re rich?”
“Of course not.”
“The guy was a bully. Someone needed to stop him. Or else why would he think twice, next time?”
“And you were the person to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was there. And it was the right thing to do.”
“But who gave you the right to decide?”
“You don’t think I did the right thing? You think I should have sent him to the hospital, instead?”
“No.”
“Look, I let him walk away. I saved the country the cost of an ambulance and a hospital bed. I made it so that Christmas is coming early for some tramp, tonight. And do you know why?”
“You have a soft spot for tramps?”
“No. Because you told me to.”
“Wait. Let me think. No. It’s as I thought. I did no such thing.”
“You did. Back at the hospital. After I finished ‘spouting off’ in the garden. Remember?”
“I told you we had to find a balance,” she said, after a moment’s thought.
“Exactly,” I said. “And that’s as balanced as it’s going to get.”
Chapter Twelve
I usually fall asleep within seconds of my head touching the pillow, but that night my eyes would not stay closed. I lay awake for two hours, and even after I dozed off, I only slept fitfully. I couldn’t stop dreaming. A woman was in most of them. A Navy Intelligence Liaison Officer. We’d been close from the moment our paths first crossed in Madrid, then again in Morocco, and more recently in New York. So when Melissa appeared next to my bed – fully dressed, and with no sign of the wheelchair – I thought for a moment she’d taken her place. Then she reached out and shook me by the shoulder, and I knew it was no dream.
“David,” she said. “Wake up. Quickly. Get your clothes. Something’s happened.”
“What is it?” I said, sitting up and instinctively smelling the air. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s been an explosion.”
“Where? In the hospital?”
“Yes. In the basement.”
“The room with the caesium?”
“We’re not sure. That corridor, definitely. But there’s a lot of smoke, so no one can see anything.”
I slid out of bed and crossed to the window, then drew back the heavy curtains.
“Is the fire brigade on its way?” I said.
“They’re already here. The fire engines are round the other side. They aren’t visible from here. But there’s not much they can do, anyway. Because there’s another problem. The radiation alarms have gone off.”
“Meaning what? That the caesium vault has been breached?”
“It looks that way. We’ll know for sure in an hour or so.”
“What about the hazmat team? Can you bring them forward?”
“No. They wouldn’t be any use. They do inventory control. Too specialised. But another team is on its way, in their place. An emergency response crew.”
“Is the hospital being evacuated?”
“Not yet. That’s a last resort. They avoid it at all costs. Unless the fire spreads, the patients are safer on the wards than out on the street.”
“What about the radiation?”
“It’s seems to be a small leak. Very localised. Any further action depends on what the emergency team finds.”
“Is there anything we can do in the meantime?”
“Yes. Two things. Check the CCTV to see if it caught anyone suspicious coming in. And fetch some tea. My mouth is as dry as a bone.”
We agreed on a division of labour. Melissa and the people back at her office would chase up the surveillance tapes, and I would head to the canteen - which was supposed to be open twenty four hours a day - in search of the tea. It was a reasonable plan, on the face of it. I had further to walk, and I wasted a little time watching the emergency crew Melissa had mentioned crossing the garden with their equipment, but it seemed like I had the easier job. And this impression was made stronger when I pushed open the door to her room and caught sight of the expression on her face.