A COLD NIGHT IN LONDON

PART ONE: THE INVITATION London was freezing the night Daniel Cross decided he had made a terrible mistake. Not the dramatic kind of freezing you see in films, where snow falls beautifully beneath streetlights. This was worse. This was London freezing. Cold rain getting into your shoes. Wind finding its way through your coat. Pavements shining under orange streetlights while every sensible person was somewhere indoors, drinking something hot and pretending they had nowhere else to be. Daniel had been standing outside a closed café in Southwark for eleven minutes. He had counted. Eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds, to be precise. He checked his phone again. Nothing. He put it back in his pocket. Three seconds later, he took it out again. Still nothing. “Brilliant.” A couple walking past looked at him. Daniel pretended he hadn’t spoken. He wasn’t usually the sort of man who talked to himself. At least, that’s what he told himself. He looked at the building across the road. Old brick. Black windows. Nothing remarkable. That was the point. The message had instructed him to meet someone there at 11:15 p.m. No name. No company. No explanation. Just an address and a sentence: Come alone. Daniel had immediately assumed it was a scam. Then came the second message. You will be paid £20,000 for one night’s work. He had stared at it for almost a full minute. Then he’d laughed. Twenty thousand pounds. For one night. Nobody offered twenty thousand pounds for something innocent. Well, almost nobody. Daniel had spent the last six months trying to convince himself that his financial problems were temporary. His landlord had stopped believing him around month four. His bank had stopped believing him even earlier. And tomorrow morning, unless he found £3,800 from somewhere, he was going to lose his flat. So when the third message arrived, he read it twice. You don’t need to know who we are. You only need to decide whether £20,000 is worth your curiosity. Daniel had replied before he could talk himself out of it. Where? The answer came immediately. The address. 11:15 p.m. Come alone. Now it was 11:27. And nobody had shown up. Daniel looked at his watch. “I’m going home.” He said it firmly. Then he waited another thirty seconds. Because apparently his principles had a thirty-second cancellation policy. His phone vibrated. This time, he almost dropped it. UNKNOWN NUMBER A message. Don’t leave. Daniel looked around. The street was quiet. Too quiet. A bus rumbled somewhere in the distance. A window opened above him. Someone shouted something unintelligible. Then the window slammed shut. Daniel typed: Who are you? The reply appeared. Someone who knows you need the money. His jaw tightened. He typed again. How do you know that? Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then: Because I know what happened at Meridian. Daniel stopped breathing for a second. The rain suddenly seemed much louder. Nobody knew about Meridian. Not really. There had been an investigation. There had been interviews. There had been lawyers. And there had been a very carefully written statement that Daniel had signed after being told, repeatedly, that it was “in everyone’s best interests.” He hadn’t thought about Meridian in months. Or at least he had tried not to. He stared at the message. What do you want? This time, there was no typing indicator. His phone rang. Same unknown number. Daniel answered. “Hello?” A man’s voice. Older. Calm. “Walk to the corner.” Daniel didn’t move. “Why?” “Because the man watching you has been standing there for seven minutes.” Daniel’s eyes moved slowly toward the opposite pavement. A man stood beneath a shop awning. Dark coat. Umbrella. Face hidden. Daniel’s stomach tightened. “How do I know you’re not the person watching me?” “You don’t.” A pause. Then the man on the phone added: “But if I were watching you, Daniel, you wouldn’t have noticed him.” The call ended. Daniel looked across the street again. The man with the umbrella was gone. “Wonderful.” He rubbed his face. “This is how documentaries start.” He stepped away from the café. One street. Then another. His phone rang again. “Keep walking.” Daniel stopped. “I have questions.” “You’ll get answers.” “When?” “When you’re inside.” “Inside what?” Silence. Daniel heard a car approaching behind him. Black Mercedes. It slowed. Stopped. The rear window lowered. A woman was sitting in the back. Late twenties, maybe early thirties. Dark hair. Black coat. She looked at Daniel as though she’d been waiting for him for hours. Then she glanced at the empty pavement beside him. “You’re Daniel?” He hesitated. “Yes.” She opened the door. “Get in.” Daniel stared at her. “No.” She raised an eyebrow. “No?” “I don’t get into random cars.” She looked genuinely confused. “Then why did you come to a random address at midnight because an anonymous person offered you twenty thousand pounds?” Daniel opened his mouth. Closed it. “That’s… different.” “How?” “I don’t know yet.” For the first time, she smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who had just discovered something mildly entertaining. “Get in, Daniel.” He looked at the car. Then at the road behind him. Then at his phone. £20,000. Meridian. Someone knew. He got in. The door shut. The woman leaned forward. “Seat belt.” Daniel stared at her. “Seriously?” “Yes.” “I thought we were committing a crime.” “We haven’t committed anything yet.” Daniel looked at her. She looked back. “Yet?” She smiled again. “Good. You’re paying attention.” The car pulled away. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. London passed outside the window. Wet streets. Closed shops. Red buses disappearing into the darkness. The woman finally broke the silence. “My name is Mara.” Daniel nodded. “Daniel.” “I know.” “Right.” He looked out the window. “Where are we going?” Mara didn’t answer. Instead, she took a phone from her coat pocket and checked the screen. Daniel noticed something. A photograph. Four faces. He only saw it for a second before Mara turned the phone away. But it was enough. There were four people in the photograph. Mara. Daniel. Two strangers. Daniel looked at her. “You knew I’d come.” “Yes.” “You knew my name.” “Yes.” “You knew about Meridian.” “Yes.” “And you have photographs of me.” Mara slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Yes.” Daniel stared at her. “Should I be concerned?” Mara considered the question. “Probably.” The car continued through the rain. Daniel looked through the rear window. For a moment, he thought he saw another car following them. Black. No headlights. Then it disappeared around a corner. He turned back. Mara was watching him. “You saw it too,” she said. Daniel swallowed. “Saw what?” Mara smiled. “Good answer.” The Mercedes continued into the night. Neither of them noticed the figure standing beneath the awning of the café they had left behind. The figure took out a phone. Made one call. And said only four words: “The first one came.” A voice answered. “Good.” A pause. Then: “Bring me the other three.” END OF PART ONE.