For a crazy second Tom wondered if there was any mileage in denying that he was Mr Patrick, but one brief look at Stanley convinced him otherwise: the man was just itching for an excuse to get physical with him.

‘Mr Patrick?’ said the Weasel again, with a little note of impatience.

‘Yes, what?’ said Tom, even more impatiently. He wanted to know what they wanted to know so he could start to make decisions about his own future. Or lack thereof.

The Weasel blinked in surprise and threw a sardonic glance at Stanley. ‘Little feisty, ain’t he?’

Stanley didn’t laugh.

‘I don’t think he knows what feisty means,’ said Tom, and instantly cursed his mouth to Hell and back. This was not the time or the place to make snappy remarks.

Stanley hissed through a tight jaw but the Weasel only shrugged.

‘Mr Patrick, we wanted to make something clear to you.’

Tom nodded. He was on board.

‘When you’re asked to play cards, you play cards.’

Tom looked at him in utter surprise. ‘This is about cards?’

‘Of course.’ The Weasel sounded put out. ‘You mean there’s other reasons you would be thrown into the trunk of a car and tied to a chair?’

‘No. I mean … No.’

‘So, you get the picture? When you’re told to play, you play.’

Tom’s brain wanted very badly to say ‘yes’. But something kept his mouth – usually the most reliably eager part of his entire anatomy – stubbornly shut. He’d thought this was about the Pride of Maine. If it was just about cards, how bad could it possibly get?

‘You understand?’ There was an edge to the Weasel’s voice now, and Stanley’s dark eyes burned into him.

Still his mouth stayed silent and his brain started to catch on. Who the hell were they to tell him what to do? So he’d agreed to play cards. So fucking what? Now he was un-agreeing. Let them find someone else to launder their ill-gotten gains.

Fuck ’em.

‘No.’

Stanley gave an unexpected bark of laughter, and shot an amazed glance at the Weasel, who dipped his head towards Tom as if he couldn’t have heard him right. ‘No? Did you say no?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes you mean yes? Or yes you said no?’

‘Yes I said no.’ He tried to shrug but it was difficult with his hands still tied to the chair. ‘I have a lot on right now. I can’t just stop my work to play cards whenever the mood takes you. Get someone else.’

The Weasel took a step back with surprise on his face. He and Stanley looked at each other.

‘He has a lot on right now!’ The Weasel was genuinely astonished.

‘Do you know who you’re fucking with?’ It was the first time Stanley had spoken since the car, and Tom saw the warning look the Weasel shot his way.

‘No. And I don’t want to.’

Stanley reached for him but the Weasel’s hand on his arm was enough to stop his forward motion.

‘We know your work, Mr Patrick,’ said the Weasel, and Tom had the impression he was choosing his words with care. ‘We know you have your job to do.’

Tom nodded. Good.

‘But we also know you’re working on something … less official? Something that has nothing to do with your career at all. Some personal crusade, in fact, that would probably only harm your career if you were to continue to pursue it.’

How did they know? Why did they care? He didn’t answer the Weasel, but glared at him. The man smiled back serenely.

‘Surely it would be in all our best interests if that matter were sacrificed. Then you could play cards and do your … job.’

Anger flared in Tom. The Weasel had said ‘job’ as if it were in quotation marks, as if it meant nothing, was just a joke they all shared.

‘Fuck you.’

It wasn’t clever or funny, as Sergeant Konrad would no doubt have confirmed, but it conveyed the venom that Tom felt appropriate.

The Weasel sighed and jerked his head at Stanley, who stepped away into the shadows behind Tom.

Tom started to sweat in earnest. Having Stanley somewhere behind him was disturbing. Hell, it was downright scary. Tom figured he didn’t have to admit that to anyone else but he might as well admit it to himself.

There was a brief shuffling sound in the darkness and then Stanley reappeared.

Tom let out his breath with an audible grunt of shock. ‘Ness!’

She was cuffed, like he was, but also gagged with duct tape, and her grey eyes were wide with fear.

‘Ness?’ This time the word was a question and an apology on his lips. But her eyes didn’t reassure him and his heart pounded against his ribs. A minute ago this was all about him. He hadn’t even considered that Ness might be compromised if he didn’t play poker. No wonder she’d tried so hard to convince him. He swallowed at the memory of her hands on him, and felt ashamed at his petulant response when he’d realized it was just a tease. It had been much more than that to her, apparently.

Now Stanley held her in front of him, glaring at Tom over her head.

‘Don’t hurt her.’ He wanted the words to come out as a threat but they sounded like begging. What could he do if they did hurt her? What kind of threat did he represent, cuffed and bleeding in a barn in the middle of somewhere no one could hear them scream? Tom felt a dizzying sense that his life until this moment had been nothing but a sham – a make-believe life of job and sex and food and people – and that reality was finally rearing its ugly head. This was the only part of the whole thing that he really had to concentrate on; the only part that mattered.

‘Oh, you like her, do you?’ said Stanley, his eyes glittering dangerously.

Tom said nothing. He didn’t want to give Stanley more ammunition than he already had.

‘You like this?’ Stanley gripped Ness’s right breast hard, making her wince.

‘And this?’ He ran the same hand between her legs. She grunted and pulled away. Stanley followed her and backhanded her so hard that she fell heavily on her side. Tom tried to jerk to his feet but the Weasel shoved him down roughly.

Stanley panted over Ness, Tom seemingly forgotten. Ness was looking up at him as if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening to her. Tom willed her to look at him but she held Stanley’s gaze in what looked like surprise as much as fear. Tom could see the red mark around her right eye, and felt sick.

He didn’t love her. He didn’t think he loved her. But he couldn’t just sit there and watch her suffer if it was in his power to stop it.