Jamal drained his cup of strong, sweet, black coffee, before jumping quickly to his feet. He hurried out into the busy street, turning to his right. He spotted his target crossing the road about thirty or forty meters away, up a gradually sloping hill. Jamal picked up his pace, dodging past shoppers, striding out with a newfound determination until he reached Heath’s side.

‘Do you remember me, killer?’

Heath focused forwards, avoiding the man’s accusing gaze. ‘Fuck off! I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. You’re mixing me up with somebody else.’

Jamal grabbed Heath’s arm as he picked up his pace, attempting to get away. ‘I want money.’

‘I told you to fuck off. I’m not who you think I am.’ Heath looked up into the sky. ‘I’ve told him, Mother, I’ve told him. What more can I do?’

‘You give me money or I go to the police.’

Heath suddenly stopped, and then shoved Jamal into a quieter side street, away from the crowds. He knew precisely who the Syrian was, his face all too familiar. ‘You talked to the police in Syria, what good did it do you?’

‘I could talk to the British police too, and tell them what I saw. Do you want to take that risk?’

What to do? What the hell to do? Here was a witness he’d never expected to encounter again. He couldn’t kill him, not here in the street. ‘I can get you one hundred pounds, maybe two hundred at most.’

The Syrian craned his neck, their noses almost touching. ‘I want ten thousand pounds cash, and I want it quickly, and not a penny less.’

Heath flinched, as a police community support officer walked past on the other side of the street, more interested in the parked cars than anything else. ‘I’m going to need time to get that sort of cash together. I’m not a wealthy man.’

‘How long?’

Heath looked Jamal in the eye and had never hated anyone more. He gave him his home address and then said, ‘Be at my house at midnight tonight. Knock on the door and wait until I answer. I’ll give you money the once but never again. You’ll leave this place and never come back. If I ever see you after tonight, I’ll kill you.’

41

Kesey heard an urgency in Janet’s voice when she picked up the phone.

‘You need to come home right now, Laura.’

The detective glanced at the clock. She’d only been in work for a little under half an hour. ‘What is it? Is Ed ill again?’

‘We’ve had a letter.’

Kesey scratched her temple with her free hand. ‘What, is it something to do with the holiday?’

There was the sound of crying at the other end of the line. ‘It’s a large brown envelope with what looks like a bloody fingerprint on the back.’

‘Oh, shit, have you opened it?’

‘No, I’ve left it on the dining room table. I don’t want to touch the damned thing.’