Teddy left the cinema, threw her oversized popcorn bucket in the bin, and headed to the warm art deco bar by the entrance to order a Coke, no ice. She took it over to a window seat and sat there, watching the rain and thinking about how she had never jumped out of a helicopter like she’d just seen Jason Statham do, and wondering if she could ask Choker to get her a ride in one. She fished a sugar packet out of the bowl in front of her, poured it onto the table, and used one of her undamaged fingers to push it into the shape of a star. Then she picked up her phone and called Art.

He was too chipper when he answered. ‘Hey, Ted! Thanks for calling back.’

‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I’m two movies into a three-movie marathon. This better only be non-work news.’

‘Well,’ he said, and Teddy sighed into the phone.

‘I’m still in pain from our last case,’ she said. ‘You know I broke a nail?

Like, all the way off. It still hurts.’ She held up her hand and looked at the bandage around her fingertip. ‘Maybe I’ll tape my nails from now on, like when I used to play netball.’

‘I know, I get it. I’m still covered in bruises and smell only of eau de Deep Heat.’

Teddy sighed. ‘Then why are you doing this? You got the most hurt out of all of us at Earl’s.’

‘That was my fault,’ he said sadly. ‘You told me to go for the knees.’

‘Well, I haven’t even said yes to whatever you’re asking yet. So what is it?’

‘A missing persons case.’

Teddy sucked at her teeth.

‘I’m on holiday,’ she reminded him.

‘Teddy, listen. I was at Choker’s, looking for work, and this is a job he had on offer. But I can’t do it alone – you know how he is about needing two of us for this stuff.’

She did know. Choker always said that with two people you pick up on more things and win more fights. Twice as many people get it done in a third of the time; that’s how he sold it to clients.

‘Also I need the money,’ Art wheedled. ‘Which means I need you.’

Just as Teddy opened her mouth to tell him no, Art said, ‘And this missing guy needs you too.’

Goddammit, Teddy thought.

‘I’ll see you at yours in an hour,’ Art said, and hung up.

Teddy drained her glass and glanced back at the cinema. She had planned her three movies – arthouse, action, then comedy – followed by takeaway on her apartment balcony, some CBD gummies and falling asleep to Iron Chef. It was supposed to be a good day off.

Art knew her well, of course: Teddy was a sucker for missing persons cases. In the middle of Brixton Heist an hour ago, she’d been moved by the same tug Statham had been, of wanting to get someone home to safety.

She shrugged on her jacket, scooped the sugar into her palm and threw it in the bin. Maybe they could find the missing person tonight and be done by tomorrow. A stipend in the bank account and takeaway every day for the next week. And somebody found, someone back home where they should be, out of the rain…