Ruby has spent her evening in a cinema, watching action movies, to kill time. It’s after midnight when she reaches Soho and heads for a private members’ club that stays open late into the night, to keep watch. The evening crowd is thinner as she buys a coffee from a stall that’s just closing. People are flagging down taxis or waiting for night buses when she positions herself outside the bar’s main entrance. She takes a few breaths to steady herself, hoping that the man she’s seeking is ready to go home.
When he comes barrelling down the steps ten minutes later, she walks into his path with calm deliberation. He blunders into her so hard she almost falls, and coffee splashes her jacket. Ruby feels a quick pulse of hatred as she gazes up at one of her dad’s old henchmen. She hasn’t seen Malcolm Pierce in years, and it’s clear he doesn’t recognise her. He was a powerful member of her dad’s gang, but now he’s just a middle-aged drunk in a cheap suit, the fabric shiny with wear.
‘Sorry, love, I’ve had a few beers. Are you okay?’
‘I’ll survive.’ She puts on the Eastern European accent she’s practised many times, in case anyone’s listening. ‘Have you been celebrating?’
‘Drowning my sorrows more like. I spend too much time in that damn place.’ His gaze focuses on her again. ‘You’re too pretty to be out this late.’
‘I’m going home from work.’
‘Take some cash to replace your jacket first.’ He takes a step closer, fumbling for his wallet.
‘No need, it’ll come clean in the wash.’ Her smile is forgiving.
‘At least let me buy you a drink.’
‘I should be on my way.’
‘Just a quick one, please. Don’t make me beg.’
Ruby can see misery in his eyes. She remembers her father saying that he often slipped into self-pity. ‘One coffee, that’s all.’
He beams in reply. ‘I knew you were an angel the minute I saw you.’
Pierce leans on Ruby’s shoulder as she leads him inside a fast-food café that stinks of bacon and cooking fat. The guy has shared all his sorrows before their drinks arrive. He messed up a crucial decision and now his friends have cut him adrift; his life’s been in free fall ever since. It’s even cost him his marriage. He sees his kids once in a blue moon.
‘Poor them. Children need their fathers,’ she whispers.
‘You’ve got a lovely voice. Where are you from exactly?’
‘Riga, but I had to leave. I came to London for a better chance.’
‘You’ll get it, love, with looks like yours.’
‘That’s very sweet.’
Ruby focuses on the next step, now that she’s reeled him in. She prepares to leave, saying that her room in a shared flat is only a few streets away. Pierce protests loudly, his speech still slurred.
‘Let me walk you there, love,’ he says. ‘You’re not safe at this time of night.’
She makes a show of refusing, then finally agrees. He’s still telling her his woes when she leads him outside. They follow the road until they reach the alleyway she chose months ago, on one of her research trips, with no CCTV in sight. It appears empty, apart from litter bins and boarded-up windows.
‘This is the quickest way.’
Pierce rushes after her, unwilling to say goodbye. She waits until they’re surrounded by darkness before coming to a halt.
‘Aren’t you going to kiss me?’ she asks. ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it?’
He looks happy for the first time tonight. He lunges closer, but never receives his kiss. He’s still smiling when Ruby drives a blade into his chest, then withdraws it, the flick knife clutched tightly in her hand. She’s done it before, as an initiation ritual for her dad, but this part always sickens her. The sound he makes is more animal than human, a guttural scream when he hits the ground, until she gives his head a vicious kick.
Thankfully he takes less than a minute to die. There’s no blood on her clothes, just a coffee stain that’s almost dried. Her father’s pride in her success floods through her veins. Ruby pulls on latex gloves before removing Pierce’s wallet, his watch and signet ring, then stows them in her bag, taking care not to dirty her shoes. Now the police will struggle to identify him. She considers cutting her father’s symbol into his skin, but it’s too early for calling cards. When Ruby looks down at her victim’s body, all she feels is hatred. Pierce was the first to squeal, giving names to the police; he was instrumental in condemning her father to a lifetime behind bars. Her dad’s knife is filthy with blood, so she wipes it clean on Pierce’s jacket, then walks away.
Ruby waits in the darkness for the right moment. Now that the night-time crowd has disappeared, Soho is deserted. When she finally steps out from the alleyway, streetlights beat down on her face, which appears just as fresh and innocent as before.