Chapter 45

Chilled by the implicit threat in my captor's words, nonetheless, I keep talking. "What are you going to do with me? Ransom me? Is that it? You want back the money you stole in the first place?"

Mack swings around again to look at me. This time the car almost comes off the road. "I told you. Shut it."

He drives to a less appealing part of town; old abandoned warehousing and industrial units. The area is depressing, with very few people apart from a couple of what look like homeless types, curled up in sleeping bags atop, or under, old cardboard boxes. Broken bottles and hypodermic needles are scattered over the ground. No reputable person is going to wander here accidentally. Do they intend to hold me prisoner here? In this awful place?

Mack pulls up at the back of an old warehouse, brick-built, run down and empty, several stories tall, but long unused and falling into disrepair. Broken windows access black spaces and pigeon nests. The remains of an old hoist and winch groans in