She drove for a good forty minutes toward Little Marlow, until she saw a battered old black Ford Ranger pickup truck parked at the side of the road. The only thing new about this pickup was the heavy-duty metal cover that was rolled out across the back, protecting the normally exposed flatbed space underneath. A key lock and a padlock held the cover in place.

Angela pulled over in front of the pickup, jumped out and opened the back doors of the van. Inside, Ester, Julia and Connie were perched on top of £27 million, stuffed into forty or so green waste bags. As soon as the sunlight hit her face, Ester started to shuffle on her bottom toward the doors.

“’Bout fucking time,” she growled. “I’m bursting for a piss.”

As Julia and Connie jumped out the back, familiar arms wrapped around Angela’s waist and Rob rested his chin atop of her head. He beamed a huge smile at the women and he opened his arms for an impromptu group hug, easily enveloping them all. For a moment, no one spoke. They stood there, savoring the moment until Ester ruined it with some crude comment about foursomes. They came to their senses and set about moving the bags from the van into the back of the pickup.

“Is Mike OK?” Rob asked.

He’d known lots of men like Mike, men who needed to be part of a team to understand their role in life; the army, the police—it was all the same. This need to belong had been a useful way of keeping Mike in check . . . but not today. Today he needed to play his part on his own and Rob wasn’t sure that, alone in Rose Cottage, he would keep his nerve. But there was nothing they could do about that now.

Once all of the bags were in the back of the pickup, Ester jumped into the back seat, while Rob slid the heavy-duty cover closed and double-locked it. Ester couldn’t be clearly seen through the blacked-out windows and even the driver’s cab partition window was blacked so that, if Rob was stopped or caught on any cameras, none of the women would be identifiable.

Angela, Julia, Connie and Rob jumped into the pest control van and drove a few feet before going off-road and heading toward the Thames. Once they were close enough, they all got out, Rob released the handbrake and they pushed the van into the water. With all of its doors open, the van sank quickly. They then headed back to the pickup and the women climbed into the back with Ester.

Once they were all settled, Rob pulled back the partition window, winked at Angela and passed through a bottle of champagne. The shrieking and cheering coming from the back would have been deafening if there had been anyone around to hear it.

Back at Rose Cottage, Barry Cooper was staring at the bundles of £5 notes and £10 notes piled high in the hearth. He was about Mike’s height and age but was a good couple of stone overweight, although he carried it well. Life had been harsh for Barry. Like Mike, the army had taught him how to survive in a group but not on his own; civvy street didn’t suit him. It didn’t really suit either of them.