“Peter, what are you doing?” she called out. “Hurry up before it gets too dark.”

“I was wrong,” he shouted back. “There must be twice as much. Can you hear me? Six fucking million!”

She waited for him. It didn’t take long—he caught up quickly and passed her. Once they were almost at the top, she took another photo of the wrecked car at the bottom—she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was out of respect for the deceased. Someone had to document the end of his life—everyone deserved an epitaph.

AS THEY LEFT it had begun to snow heavily. Darkness fell quickly, and the snowflakes whirling in the headlights created a dramatic contrast to the safety and warmth of the car. After a long period of contemplative silence they approached the burning issue—the future.

“What should we do with all the money?” Jeanette dared to ask.

“House, car, yacht,” Peter said with a smile.

“I mean right now,” said Jeanette. “Where should we put it?”

“I’ll deal with that. It’ll be fine in the boot for now. Only I drive this car, and no one steals a car with a company logo on it. But I think I have an idea about where we can keep it for a while.”

“Okay,” was all she said.

Peter mostly kept his eyes on the road, but every now and then he looked at her with concern. Eventually, he took her hand.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “Don’t let’s regret this. What’s done is done, and we did it for us. When we’re lying on our sun loungers in the Bahamas holding a drink with an umbrella in it, we’ll thank ourselves. Don’t ruin this.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Jeanette. “I don’t want to go to prison.”

“We’ve not committed any crime,” said Peter, emphasizing each word.

At the same time, he held out his hand in a way that seemed to suggest that this wasn’t the first time he was explaining it.

“We’ve stolen someone’s money,” Jeanette pointed out.

“Yes, but whose? Some bank has lost a hell of a lot of money, but what does that matter? They’ll print more, for god’s sake. And it wasn’t us who robbed the bank.”

Jeanette had a very strong feeling that they had committed another—far worse—sin too, but she let it lie. Primarily because she couldn’t bear to think about it, but also because she didn’t want to mar what tied them together properly. The thing that guaranteed that the future was actually theirs—together. So she capitulated.

“You’re right,” she said, stroking the top of his hand with her other hand. “I shouldn’t be such a gloomy Gus.”