‘I like a woman who eats properly. So you’re not on a diet all the time like all those supermodel types down there in London?’

‘No! I love food. The robbers would need a van for all the stuff, wouldn’t they? And you saw one, and you saw workmen.’

‘Hold on! Bloody hell, you’re hurting my head. Why are you so obsessed with this? I suppose you’re right, though, and someone had to drive George to The Lady of the Lake and dump him there.’

‘You use that yard a lot, don’t you, yet you heard nothing.’

‘Maybe they used a boat.’

‘Why take the time to do that if it was just a burglary gone wrong? What exactly was stolen?’

‘Oh, all sorts of stuff. I know the old man’s antique racing boat from his Cambridge days was taken, because Sebastian was asking me to look out for a replica recently.’

‘Oh. That must have been stolen for a specialist buyer, surely?’

‘Guess so.’

Tilly’s phone rang; it was the foreign number again.

‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’

She put the phone to her ear.

‘Tilly Knight?’

She didn’t recognise the voice. She hesitated, then took a deep breath.

‘Yes.’

‘George gave me your number. This is Alexandros Skarparis. I’m calling you from Cyprus.’

‘Oh, hello, could I ask you to hold for one second? I’ll just get my bank details.’

She turned to Graeme. ‘Bloody Amazon, my card ran out and they need my new one. I think it’s in the car.’ She rolled her eyes and left the room, closing the door behind her.

‘Alexandros?’ she whispered. ‘Oh my God! You’re all right! You know about the others?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Look, I can’t talk. Can I call back in an hour?’

Chapter 31

Alexandros walked barefoot along the beach. His home was a quiet town on the southern shores of the island, close to a British army base. It boasted the best fish and chip café outside of the UK. He climbed over the rocks that separated the main beach at Larnaca from that of Dhekelia military garrison. He’d never minded the British, but his mother and grandmother remembered the war in 1974, when the Turks had come and neighbour turned on neighbour. Communities had slaughtered one another while the British remained in barracks. There was bad blood, but Alex remained torn. Britain was now his home, and that was why he was melancholy. He had no idea if he’d ever be able to go back there. He also grieved for his friends. Images of Mike and Emily’s bodies invaded his thoughts in the middle of the night, when his defences were low and the dark was pregnant with threat.