Harry elected to sit on the right-side front seat ahead of the wing so that he had a good view out of the window. Seraphine took the same seat across the aisle. She wore blue trousers, a white vest top and a fitted white jacket.

‘How did you get my passport?’

‘I broke into your home, riffled through your things and stole it.’

‘You—?’ Harry was distracted for a moment as he realized that he had no recollection of where his home was, what it looked like or where he kept his passport.

‘That was a joke, Harry. I’ve not been in your home.’

‘So how?’

Seraphine shrugged. ‘Not your concern.’

‘And where we are going, is that my concern?’ They both fastened their seatbelt as the plane pushed back and began to taxi along to the runway.

‘We’re going to see a man about a girl.’

‘Alina Maree?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Who is she?’

Seraphine studied him for a long moment. ‘You really have no idea?’

‘None whatsoever.’

She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes as the plane accelerated. ‘Good. That will be helpful.’

65

George Selaisse called his boss. ‘Peterson is at the airport. It looks like he’s taking a private charter.’

‘Good,’ said Bello. ‘He’s coming to me. Let him come.’

‘Does he have his memory back?’ asked Selaisse.

‘I don’t know. A friend said they’d make him come and it seems they’ve done just that.’

Selaisse knew better than to question his boss any further. ‘We have his children and the girlfriend. What do you want us to do with them?’

‘Keep them for now. I may need them as insurance.’

Selaisse hung up and made a second call as he walked back to the long-stay to retrieve his car. ‘How are they?’ he said when his associate answered.

‘The young girl is upset but the other two are calm. They’re refusing to eat or drink.’

Wise, thought Selaisse. He had researched the investigators helping Captain Peterson’s girlfriend and could find no information at all about the man. His digital footprint was light to the point of invisible which could only mean one thing: he was in the business. And if that was the case, he would have advised his clients to avoid food or drink in case it had been laced with something. ‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes,’ he said.

As he drove away, Selaisse smiled at the idea of Peterson’s investigators and the police desperately searching St Albans. Little did they know their efforts were futile. The trio was long gone and would remain so until Selaisse decided otherwise.

66

‘What next?’ asked Bloom. ‘What do we do?’

Jameson was still trying to ring Karene but Bloom heard the phone go to voicemail for the second time.

‘Caroline Peterson’s called the police and she and her fella are out looking right now. As is my guy.’