‘Into the country! Hundreds of millions!’ Nix whispered. ‘And I know where it all is. I know everything. Don’t you fucking get it? The fucking police won’t stop them getting to me.’ Nix reached a grubby hand across the trailer table and grasped Boyd’s wrist. ‘Please. Don’t take me in. They’ll find me.’

  The Nissan Juke rolled slowly down the country road.

  It was a hired car from an Avis outlet at Heathrow airport. A common enough make and a very forgettable silvery grey colour. Inside, two men sat silently, one driving, one staring at his small glowing phone screen.

  ‘Povernut’ nalevo,’ said the passenger.

  The driver grunted. ‘Your English. Practise it.’

  ‘Left. Here.’

  ‘Better.’

  The Juke turned left at the T-junction, and headed along a single-lane road. It rolled on past nice homes with broad seaview windows. The man in the passenger’s seat got momentary snapshot glimpses of family lives: two children yammering at each other at a kitchen table, an old couple on a couch watching the television, a German shepherd standing guard at the window barking ferociously yet unheard at the car that glided by like a shark in the shallows.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Okeke muttered. Her eyes fixed on the approaching glare of headlights in the wing mirror.

  They’d passed one or two cars parked along the Ridge – overspill from small gravel driveways occupied by caravans, boat trailers and fix-up projects that were never going to be finished. Okeke fervently hoped that the car belonged to someone who lived here and would pull in soon.

  Emma squinted at the rear-view mirror. The headlights grew large, filled the mirror, then passed them by. She exchanged a look of concern with Okeke.

  They watched in tense silence as the twin lights dwindled, occasionally flaring as the vehicle’s brakes were tapped and released.

  ‘It’s not stopping,’ said Emma, heart hammering.

  Okeke’s phone was still connected to Boyd’s, the men’s voices and rustling from Boyd’s coat pocket playing out on the dashboard.

  ‘Your phone,’ she said urgently to Emma.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I need to use your phone.’

  Emma pulled it out, unlocked it and passed it to her. Okeke dialled a number. It answered quickly.

  ‘Jay, it’s me,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Hey, babycakes,’ he whispered. ‘You missing me alrea–’

  ‘Not now, Jay. A car’s just gone past us; it’s heading your way.’

  ‘Okay. So what do you want me to do?’

  Her eyes were still on the tiny pinpricks of red. If they veered to the left, then it had to be turning into the road beside the lake, heading up towards the campsite.

  ‘Hold on… Hold on… It’s slowed down. It may just be parking up.’

  ‘The Salikovs,’ said Nix. ‘If they f-find me… if they get hold of me… they won’t just kill me. You d-do understand that, right?’

  Boyd had a pretty good idea of what would happen to Nix if they managed to get their hands on him. They’d take their time with him, for sure.

  ‘Listen to me,’ said Boyd. ‘I’m not going to let them find you. All right? I’m going to get you somewhere safe, somewhere we can talk properly.’

  ‘Not the p-police –’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of friends with me who –’

  Nix’s eyes bulged.

  ‘No! Listen! Trusted friends. People I trust. We’re going to get you out of here, take you to safety and get you cleaned up and get you something to eat.’

  ‘Okay, okay, okay.’ Nix rocked back and forth in his seat. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Then we’ll work out next steps. I –’

  Nix laughed, shaking his head. ‘Next steps? There are no next fucking steps! I’m going to b-be hiding for the r-rest of my fucking life! They always get what they want, Boyd. You want to know how?’

  ‘How?’ Boyd asked, in what he hoped was a calming voice.

  ‘Money, money, money,’ sang Nix. A tuneless, haunted whimpering rendition of the old Abba song. ‘We’re all corrupt these days. We’re all rotten to the core. And thing is, you have no choice. You have to take the money; you don’t say no. Not to these p-people. You just don’t say –’

  ‘And that’s what happened to you?’ cut in Boyd. ‘You couldn’t say no?’

  Nix stopped. His lips pressed together, then finally he nodded. ‘It was Zophia. I-I thought she was stunning. I mean… oh God.’ He clamped his eyes shut and pulled his knees up into a pitiful self-hug. ‘Why did I even think –’

  Boyd answered for him. ‘You were flattered. She made you feel young again.’

  ‘Yes! Yes! I… I just… I was… She made me feel like, fuck, like … James Bond.’ Boyd could see the glint of his wide eyes reflecting the candlelight. ‘She pulled me in… then…’ He licked his lips and took a breath. ‘Then it was… A little favour, Gerry. Just a little favour. Please. For my family,’ he said, mimicking a breathy little girl’s voice. ‘Father has money he wants to invest. You are clever at this, yes?’ Nix palmed his forehead several times, thumping himself for his stupidity. ‘I didn’t know who they were at the time. I didn’t think.’

  Or maybe you didn’t want to know? Boyd had the feeling Nix’s common sense had departed the moment this young woman had appeared, leaving his quivering libido to do all the decision-making for him.

  ‘I should’ve guessed! I told her I wouldn’t do it any more and she said it would be okay.’ Nix’s rocking was becoming more agitated.

  They needed to move.

  ‘Look, Gerald. We’re going to get you somewhere secure and –’

  Nix stopped rocking and looked at him. ‘I killed them, Boyd,’ he blurted. ‘I killed them both!’

  43

  Doing her best to ignore the drama coming from the phone on the dashboard, Okeke tried to make out what was going on up ahead.

  The car had pulled over and stopped. It appeared to be waiting.

  ‘I don’t like the look of that,’ she whispered to Emma.

  Through the red glow of the brake lights, Okeke could see clouds of exhaust drifting away. The engine was still running.

  ‘It could just be visitors, I suppose, said Emma. ‘It’s Friday night.’

  Okeke turned to her. ‘Then why are they just sitting there?’

  ‘Talking?’ muttered Emma. ‘Making out?’ she added hopefully.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ hissed Okeke, staring at the back of the car. ‘Get out or bugger off.’ It had been there for nearly a minute now.

  ‘Sam?’ It was Jay’s voice. Her call was still open to him. ‘What’s going on there, baby?’

  ‘It’s still sitting there,’ she whispered.

  ‘What are my orders?’

  Okeke smiled briefly. Her boyfriend was clearly getting a big kick out of the whole covert operation thing. ‘Just sit tight for now, love – but be ready!’

  ‘Roger that.’

  ‘We were out in the middle of the Channel when it happened,’ said Nix. ‘She said she wanted us to sail to France for the weekend. To impress her ‘uncle’ with my boat? She said we could talk to him about getting out of the business.’

  ‘And that didn’t make you at all suspicious?’ Boyd asked, hoping that Okeke was getting this.

  Nix shook with mirthless laughter. ‘It should have, shouldn’t it? I just wanted to trust her.’ He laughed again. ‘Fuck it. I loved her. Crazy head-over-heels shit, you know? She was gorgeous, way out of my league. I would have done anything she asked.’

  ‘So go on. What happened?’

  ‘They both went down below. I was at the helm.’ Nix was absently tugging at the bristly tufts on his chin. ‘I heard them talking. It sounded like Russian. Then they both came back out…’ Nix had a haunted look on his face as he spoke. His eyes were wide and glassy, not just telling Boyd the tale but actually reliving it. ‘I just knew. I put it together as soon as I saw them. I actually knew it was coming. Better late than never, eh? But what the fuck was I supposed to do? Jump? Run? I –’ He took a deep breath to steady himself.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Boyd. ‘Take your time.’

  ‘Her “uncle” had come up the steps into the cockpit with a big fucking knife in his hand. He was actually fucking smiling at me!’

  ‘Okay,’ said Boyd calmly. ‘So then?’

  ‘I jibbed and cast off.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’ Boyd asked, confused.

  ‘I turned the boat round and released the mainsheet. The beam swung round and knocked him down. I think it knocked him out for a second. I… it all happened so fucking fast!’ Nix paused and took in a deep, steadying breath. ‘He dropped the knife. I picked it up. And…’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘I stabbed him.’ Nix gnawed on his grimy nails as he replayed the moment. ‘Not just once. Fuck! Boyd… he wouldn’t die! He wouldn’t fucking die, no matter how many times I…!’ Nix looked at the dirty bandages around his arm. ‘He was biting me. I mean, right through my skin, like a bloody dog! And I just didn’t know what to do, so I kept stabbing and stabbing and stabbing!’

  Jesus Christ. ‘Okay,’ Boyd said, trying to keep his horror from showing on his face. ‘So what about Zophia? What was she doing?’

  Nix didn’t answer.

  ‘Did she run from you?’

  Nix shook his head and clamped his lips tightly shut.

  ‘Gerald! Come on. What happened next? Did she run? Did she hide?’

  Nix looked at him, and then, like a little boy all out of lies, he nodded. ‘In the forecabin,’ he whispered.

  ‘You killed her down there?’

  He nodded again. ‘I h-had to Boyd. I… She was going to kill me. I had to do it. If I let her live, if I took her back home and let her go… What the fuck do you think would have happened to me?’

  His voice was growing sharp and ragged. The rocking was becoming exaggerated and frantic. Boyd decided he’d heard enough. The rest of this story had been told by Sully through the crime scene report. It was time to go.

  He placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on Nix’s shoulder. ‘It’s all right, mate. It’s all right. Come on – let’s get you somewhere safe.’

  ‘She played me like an idiot. Betrayed me… Fucking made me her little bitch. I was… I was just a bloody poodle. Pathetic.’ Nix looked up at Boyd. ‘They saw me coming. They played me from the very fucking beginning.’

  ‘It’s over. Okay, Gerald? She’s gone.’

  Nix’s breathing deepened. He dipped his head. ‘I feel sick.’

  ‘You need to puke?’

  Nix was doubled over now, his head between his knees.

  ‘You do what you got to do,’ said Boyd. He inched backwards slightly, not wanting to catch any splash. ‘Take your time.’

  But Nix didn’t puke. He remained doubled over as he continued. ‘I was panicked. I didn’t know if bodies float or sink. I didn’t… So I just… just in case they did, I cut the heads and hands off.’

  Shit. Emma’s hearing this. Instinctively Boyd reached into his coat pocket and fumbled for the phone’s power button. He had his confession now. Okeke had heard it. The rest, the dismemberment, could wait for later.

  The call disconnected.

  Okeke grabbed her phone and was about to call Boyd back, when she thought better of it. The phone had been rustling. It was clearly pocketed. She was pretty sure he’d cut the call on purpose.

  ‘What’s happened?’ said Emma and Jay in unison.

  ‘He’s got what he wanted,’ she said. ‘We’ve got our confession.’ Okeke picked up Emma’s phone. ‘It looks like we may be all done here, Jay. Sit tight until Boyd comes back out.’

  ‘Copy that, gorgeous.’

  She ended the call with Jay and handed Emma her phone.

  ‘So what do we now?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Your dad’s probably going to read Nix his rights, cuff him and walk him over to the car. Then we’ll call in the boots to formally caution, arrest and process him. Jay will take you home in the van, and your dad and I will hope and pray that the good outweighs the bad and we get to keep our bloody jobs!’

  Emma sighed with relief. ‘Thank God.’

  Okeke suddenly froze. ‘Shit!’

  ‘What? said Emma, following her gaze.

  Okeke was looking at the car up ahead. Both doors opened simultaneously, the interior lights casting a momentary soft glow onto the rutted and cracked tarmac road. Okeke caught a fleeting illuminated glimpse of both figures. There were two men. Both of them carrying something that glinted dully in the light.

  ‘Shit! They’re getting out.’ She snatched Emma’s phone back. ‘Pin!’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘What’s your fucking PIN!’

  ‘Three-two-four-one!’ Emma blurted out in a panicked voice.

  Okeke unlocked Emma’s phone and hit redial.

  ‘I was in the boat for a day and a night. Twenty-four hours. Just floating. Watching the blood dry. I didn’t know what to do, where to go.’

  ‘But you came back,’ said Boyd. ‘Right?’

  Nix nodded.

  So that had been Nix on the CCTV, then. Okeke had said there’d been a CCTV activation event at Nix’s house two days after the boat had gone out. ‘You made your way back home? But how? The Magpie was found drifting.’

  ‘I was panicking. I didn’t know what to do. I sailed back to England. I was fucking terrified some Border Force boat was going to intercept me… but I stopped when I got close enough…’

  ‘Close enough?’

  ‘To shore.’

  ‘Jesus, Nix. You swam to shore? In November?’ The water would have been freezing.

  ‘No. In a blow-up dinghy. I paddled. I didn’t swim. But… before… before I abandoned Magpie… I couldn’t think what else to fucking do!’

  ‘You tried to scupper her?’

  He nodded. ‘I put a hole in the front. Turned the boat round. Put the engine on. Locked the helm and let her head out into the Channel.’

  ‘And you hoped she’d sink. You hoped everyone would think all three of you were dead.’

  Nix let out a snotty, edgy bark of a laugh. ‘I’d just killed Zophia. Rovshan Salikov’s daughter! What the hell was I going to do? Hand myself in?’

  He had a point. Whether he could make a self-defence argument and make bail or not – he’d be a sitting duck. Going missing alongside the other two was probably his only option. If someone as rich and powerful as Jeffrey Epstein was an easy target in prison, some unknown nobody like Gerald Nix would be a piece of cake.

  ‘I tried to make it look like we’d all died,’ Nix continued. ‘I came back to my house. Got some clothes, as much money as I had in the house… I left my car, because… I’m meant to be dead, right? Dead. So… this.’ He gestured around him. ‘I’ve been like this ever since. Hiding here.’

  ‘Why not go to friends? Family?’

  ‘I don’t have any. No one I trust. Anyway, I was out of options. I saw you on the TV. I got a bus into Hastings and I followed you. It was me in the graveyard.’

  ‘Well, I worked that out. I’m here, aren’t I?’ Boyd said. ‘What else did you do? Did you find out where I live? Did you watch my house?’

  Nix nodded. ‘I saw you walking your dog.’

  Fuck. If this idiot could find him, then he doubted it would be a problem for the Russian mafia. Boyd looked at the clutter of rubbish around the trailer and shook his head. ‘This is no way to live.’

  Nix nodded. ‘I’m out of cash now,’ he said. ‘There’s none left. I don’t know who else to turn to! I. Am. Fucking. Terrified. Boyd, please – you’ve got to help me.’

  The phone vibrated on the seat beside Jay. He picked it up and answered, ‘Hey there, Babyca –’

  ‘There’s two men coming down the track,’ Okeke said urgently. ‘Towards you! I think they’re armed! Alert Boyd and get the hell out of there! NOW!’

  Jay didn’t need telling twice. He hung up. Shit just got real.

  He leant over the gear stick and turned the ignition. The Captur sputtered to life and the headlights winked on. He recalled Boyd’s instruction. Fire up the car. Make a shit-ton of noise.

  He hit the button on Sam’s rape alarm.

  PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

  ‘SHIT!’

  In the car’s small interior, it felt like the high-pitched siren was actually piercing his brain. He opened the passenger-side door and clambered out with the shrieking alarm still in his hand.

  ‘BOYD!’

  44

  ‘FUCK!’ Boyd nearly shat himself.

  ‘What? What’s happening?’ Nix had leapt back at the sudden screaming alarm;

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Boyd quickly, trying to control his nerves. ‘It’s a signal. Someone’s coming. We have to move now.’

  He looked out through the rear window of the trailer and saw that his car’s headlights were on and spilling light across the open area, casting long shadows from the picnic table and benches.

  ‘We’ve got company. Talking time’s over, Gerald… You’re coming in with me.’

  ‘Ohgodohgod!’ Nix leapt to his feet. ‘They’ll kill you too!’ he whimpered, wild-eyed.

  ‘Listen to me.’ Boyd tried standing up, but his thighs caught the small fixed table and he had to sit down again and shuffle along. ‘Gerald! For now the safest place is the police station, okay? We’ll get you –’

  ‘NO! You can’t!’ Nix yelled. ‘They’ll get to me!’ He backed away from Boyd, down towards the trailer’s front door.

  ‘Don’t be a fucking idiot!’ snapped Boyd, successfully on his feet at the second attempt.

  Nix reached for a holdall, packed and ready to grab, from beside the door. The trailer door was already open.

  ‘You led them to me!’ he screamed. ‘You’ve fucking killed me!’

  He shot out of the door and into the night.

  ‘NIX!’ Boyd reached the doorway and caught sight of Nix disappearing into the labyrinth of rusty trailers.