Debt Collector / Season 1, Episode 5
Secrets of the Thames
The black cab’s door slammed shut behind Arthur Neave with a dull thunk, the sound swallowed by the damp November air hanging over Lambeth Bridge. His polished brogues hit the pavement, each step deliberate, as if testing the ground for hidden traps. The bridge’s iron railings gleamed faintly under the sodium glow of streetlamps, slick with mist that clung to his overcoat like a second skin. He could taste the Thames on his tongue—brackish, cold, a reminder of every secret this river had buried. His phone buzzed once in his pocket, a single vibration, but he ignored it. Not now. Not after last night’s meeting with the shadow who’d whispered promises and debts in equal measure. “Mr. Neave,” a voice cut through the fog, low and gravelly, pulling him from the memory of that faceless figure. A man stepped forward from the bridge’s midpoint, half-hidden by the haze, his cheap suit rumpled as if he’d slept in it. Thin hair plastered to his scalp, eyes darting to the passing cars like a cornered fox. Arthur knew the type—small-time, nervous, someone who’d borrowed more courage than they owned. “Didn’t think you’d show after… well, after last night.” Arthur stopped a few paces away, hands in his pockets, posture loose but eyes sharp as cut glass. “I don’t recall giving you my...