And then, of course, was the impossible-to-know. The guarantee that not only would there be more security at wherever they ended up – guys in cargo pants and polo shirts and Aviators – but that the individual Nortons were likely to have their own guys on board. PAs probably, but maybe security experts, too. After all, whoever was finding their proxies for them had to be in the game. The fixers wouldn’t necessarily be on site. The fixers of Abbott’s acquaintance liked to steer well clear of the action. But who knew? If the money was right, then why not?

One thing was certain: they were either underestimating Abbott or overestimating him. And either way that was a mistake for which they would pay.

And then, of course, was the question of Tess’s location. Would they have brought her to Poland? If he was right and they intended to get rid of him whatever the outcome – and after all, any other option didn’t quite make sense – then the answer was yes, they would bring her to Poland and deal with her, this loose end, at the same time as they dealt with him.

After that? What? Go through his phone, of course. Cuckoo was in his phone as Cuckoo and not his real name, but if you had their kind of resources, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put him at military intelligence and military intelligence at Bedford, the destination of the CD. Another loose end they’d want to tie.

Which meant that Cuckoo’s was another life he needed to save.

He settled back in his seat. Trying to keep his mind clear. Trying to stay present and focused on the job at hand. As he knew from years of drinking and then being on the wagon and then drinking again, there was one thing to be grateful for, at least, and that was the fact that he was neither drunk nor hungover. His condition could be better. But on the other hand, it could be a lot, lot worse.

He dozed, conserving his energy, reaching for a state of total focus by clearing his mind, until he heard the word ‘Abbott’ and opened his eyes. ‘We’re here.’

And the first thing he saw was the fact that they were entering what looked like a vast construction site. His brain struggled to make sense of what his eyes could see. A theme park, by the looks of things. Half-built theme park, the skyline a forest of cranes and scaffolding providing a strange and surreal counterpoint to the attractions.

But what kind of attractions? He had his answer when they drove beneath an arch surely designed to welcome visitors to the Norton’s latest entertainment venture.

An arch on which was emblazoned the words, ‘Welcome to Murder World!’

Chapter 49

CHAPTER 49

Abbott saw CCTV cameras but thus far, no guards, armed or otherwise.