She cursed to herself. She’d lost her. Amber had gone. She’d escaped. She’d had too much of a head-start. If only Bailey hadn’t been held back by this blasted knee.

She limped forward and sagged against a tree for support. Exhaustion now overwhelmed her. As she leant there, it suddenly struck home that this was the first time she’d been out of the prison since… since being incarcerated. She was finally free of the place. And it felt weird.

She stood there listening to the rustling of the leaves around her, savouring the tranquillity of nature, cherishing the feel of the rough bark under her hands.

Thoughts of Alice flooded through her mind, filling her with warmth and sadness. Bailey had done all she could to give her friend what she owed her. She reflected too on Poppy with a bittersweet pang of remorse. On an emotional level, Bailey was totally and utterly spent.

She started to think about what she should do now, how she could best contact Frank and what their next course of action should be.

But then a noise penetrated her thoughts… a long sibilant hiss carried on the breeze.

Her hackles went up. It was an eerie spectral sound.

Bailey spun around, one way and then the other, looking for its source.

And then she saw it. A figure in the woods, standing about fifty metres away, barely more than a silhouette in the shadows.

Although she couldn’t make out her face, Bailey knew Amber was looking straight at her.

‘This isn’t over, Bailey!’ came the howl. ‘I’ll come for you one day!’

Bailey took a step forward. She blinked and squinted.

But the figure was no longer there. It had melted away into the woods, leaving only the branches swaying in the breeze.

Chapter 110

The debriefing was finally over and Bailey needed some fresh air. Her right leg was still painful and stiff as she limped slowly along the corridor to the lifts and went down to the ground floor.

She walked out of the building, passing its iconic revolving ‘New Scotland Yard’ sign, and found a spot to stand on the pavement. It was a hot muggy July afternoon. London traffic roared past, whilst crowds of people streamed around her in all directions. The scene was reassuringly noisy and busy.

The debriefing had been in front of a tableful of the drugs detectives who had been overseeing and funding the undercover operation, along with members of the National Crime Agency, who were poised to pursue any links to large-scale organised crime, as well as detectives from the murder investigation team who had been investigating the prison slayings. Bailey had taken them through the whole affair exhaustively from beginning to end. It had been a draining but also cathartic experience.

After she’d escaped from the prison through the well and lost Amber in the woods, Bailey had limped to a nearby 24-hour petrol station and called Frank. He and a slew of detectives and uniformed officers had arrived not long afterwards and picked her up. Despite the excruciating pain in her leg, she had waved aside medical attention to accompany them directly to the prison, eager to identify the key players involved.