Who Dares Wins by Chris Ryan Page B

favour.’
    She hesitated. There was something in his voice. He sounded tense.
    ‘What’s the matter, Sam? Everything all right?’
    ‘Fine.’ He sounded like he was simply brushing away the question. ‘Listen, I’ve got a mobile number. I need a billing address. Can you get it for me?’
    As he spoke, Nicola felt deflated and she couldn’t prevent it from sounding in her voice. ‘I suppose so,’ she replied. ‘What’s it for?’
    ‘Mate of mine,’ Sam replied blandly. ‘Getting funny phone calls. Wants to put a stop to them.’
    He was lying. Nicola could tell that easily enough, but she couldn’t be bothered to make a thing of it.
    ‘All right, Sam,’ she sighed. ‘It’ll take me twenty-four hours. Give me the number and call me tom . . .’
    ‘I haven’t got twenty-four hours,’ Sam said. ‘I need it now.’
    A pause. ‘Sounds like your friend really wants to put a stop to these calls,’ Nicola remarked lightly.
    ‘Can you do it?’ Brusque, businesslike.
    ‘It’s half-past ten at night, Sam.’
    ‘Can you do it?’
    Nicola sighed again, heavily this time. ‘All right, Sam. I’ll see what I can do.’
    ‘Good.’ He gave her the number, then said, ‘I’ll call you in half an hour.’
    Without another word, the phone clicked off.
    Nicola looked at the silent handset, then longingly back at the half-run bath. Then, muttering under her breath, she went to find herself a dressing gown.
    Sometimes, she thought to herself, she was just too obliging for her own good.
    *
    Sam replaced the phone on its cradle, then immediately walked away from the booth.
    He was just outside a parade of shops, most of them shut apart from a kebab shop half full of pissed-up kids. Sam was hungry, but something stopped him from wanting contact with anyone else, so he walked purposefully away. The half-hour passed slowly. He found a second pay phone in about ten minutes, then spent the rest of the time hanging around waiting to call his contact again. He didn’t really know what he was going to do if he found out an address for this woman – it rather depended on where she lived – but at the moment he didn’t know what else to do. It was just gone eleven when he made the call.
    ‘It’s me.’
    ‘Somehow I thought it would be.’ Nicola sounded annoyed.
    ‘Did you get the address?’
    ‘Yeah, I got it. You didn’t tell me it was a woman.’
    ‘I didn’t know,’ he lied.
    A disbelieving silence. ‘Look, Sam,’ Nicola said finally, ‘I don’t know what this is all about, but I’ve got enough trouble at work as it is. This isn’t going to put me any deeper in the shit, is it?’
    Sam sniffed. ‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ he lied. ‘I promise. It’s just personal.’
    He breathed steadily as he waited for Nicola to reply.
    ‘All right,’ she said, her voice heavy with resignation. ‘You got a pen?’
    ‘I can remember it.’
    ‘Fine. Ground Floor Flat, 31 Addington Gardens, W3. Hope your friend likes Acton, Sam. Personally, I think it’s a dump.’
    Acton, London. At this time of night he could make it in a couple of hours.
    ‘Thank you, Nicola. I owe you one.’
    ‘As far as I can remember,’ she replied, a hint of archness returning to her voice, ‘you already did.’
    For the first time that day, Sam smiled. ‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite,’ he told her quietly, but there was no reply. Nicola had already hung up.
    Fifteen minutes later, Sam was in the car, one finger on the steering wheel as he hurtled out of Hereford down the A road that would lead him to London. The screen of his SatNav illuminated the route, but he barely glanced at it. He knew the way well enough. The lights of the cars ahead of him were nothing but a blur – not only because the speedo was constantly tipping a hundred, but also because his mind wasn’t really on the road. The events of the day churned over in his head, a series of disjointed visions; but the more he thought about them, the more