Chapter 1. The Flat.

Hello. I am the author and I am the narrator, Nemo. It is nice to see you. I would have liked to shake your hand, but my hands are tied.

Tom, her current boyfriend, was the best she had ever had. He was also her only one so far. Tom had told her that Amir was dangerous. He had said that Amir was like a tiger, but the first time Sara saw him, he seemed just like a teenager. The manga (Smoking Behind the Supermarket with You) and the Pokémon cards on the table contributed to this impression.

Amir was short. Big sunglasses hung from his floral shirt. He had a pen behind his ear. Amir sat in an office chair and was spinning around while talking on the phone. Two big men sat at a table playing chess. They appeared to be from the Middle East; one of them, Rayhan, reeked of aftershave, and the other, Javed, had an impressive beard. Rayhan was built like a rugby player and Javed looked like a real-life version of Obelix. Biscuit wrappers lay on the table. Sara thought that they were Amir’s henchmen and idly wondered if that term could cause offence (it could).

Caro, a 6-foot-6 muscular woman (understatement) with a black, heavy-metal T-shirt and hair in a shade you rarely see, stood behind Sara. Men sometimes developed inferiority complexes purely by chance when Caro was around. People asked her to recommend steroid combinations. Caro was so strong that she found it inconvenient. Sara intuitively sensed that Caro functioned as Amir’s muscle and personal assistant.

They were in a messy flat close to Sara’s home; half-packed boxes stood on the floor. Someone had punched a hole in a wardrobe. The only light came through dirty windows. The blue curtains left very little light for Amir. Paintings by Salvador Dalí hung on a wall.

Caro grabbed Sara’s hand when she reached for the light switch and pulled it away. Caro had used enough force to make Sara understand that she had better not try that again. Tom had told her to contact Amir instead of the police if anything should happen to him. Sara had done so through an acquaintance, Maxwell.

Someone with a raspy (smoke-affected) voice had then called Sara and told her to come here immediately. She had run all the way there without her pedometer. Sara had knocked on the door five times as she had been told, and Caro had opened. Sara heard Amir say, ‘The rest are to be regarded as redundant.’ Amir spoke with a flat affect, as if he could not be bothered to engage. His eyes met hers for just a moment, yet she immediately understood what Tom had meant.

Amir said, ‘Check her properly.’ Caro very gently pushed Sara into the bathroom; its mirror was badly cracked and the bath was dirty. ‘Strip.’ Sara did as she was asked and then stood shivering in her white knickers and a bra, a simple crucifix around her neck. She felt like a rabbit. Sara wondered why there was a toaster in the bathroom. Caro checked her clothes, then felt inside her bra, and finally even peeked inside her knickers. ‘Get dressed.’ Caro took her phone and put the toilet seat down.

Sara happened to catch her own reflection in the remains of the mirror and winced. She did not understand why they treated her like this. Sara only wanted their help to find her boyfriend. When she came out, Caro stood at the door, with her hands on her hips. Amir now wore his sunglasses and was pacing like a caged animal. He was talking to someone about finding out where the dolls came from. Amir stopped next to the chessboard. He moved a piece and ended his call without saying goodbye.

Sara sat down on the unmade bed. Her heart was certainly working fine. The headboard had thirteen scratches so far. Amir grabbed her chin, took off his sunglasses and stared into her fearful eyes. Sara winced and looked away. ‘What happened?’ He put his sunglasses back on while Sara, in one breath, told Amir that she had seen Tom waiting for her outside the dull university. A red car had stopped and three men had stepped out. They had dragged Tom into the car and driven off without adhering to the speed limit.

Sara feared that she had spoken far too rapidly. Amir said, ‘Describe the men, in detail.’ Caro joined them, listened, and sighed. Sara knew that her descriptions had been too vague. The most specific information Sara provided was that one was bald and had a beard. Sara tried to gauge Amir’s reaction but instantly gave up. Elsewhere, a policeman (who had just warned an old man to stop posting provocative memes) was interviewing witnesses, learning little more than Amir had.

This happens to be my first book, and I have never worked as a narrator before. I hope that you could not tell.