‘Hey, Lisa,’ Martin shouted with the last of his breath. Lisa hadn’t heard the door crash open, but she responded to her name. She slowly turned around to him.

The telephone on the bedside table was ringing; nobody paid it any attention.

‘Who are you?’ Lisa said, keeping one eye on her mother. The wind was blowing her hair forwards like a hood.

Noting her glassy look Martin understood the situation at a glance. Lisa Stiller was in a sort of alpha mode, a state in which she would only react to the most powerful external stimuli. The voice of reason had been switched off, as had her ability to distinguish between right and wrong.

She was probably suffering from a dissociative disorder. If Diesel was right and the teacher had sexually exploited and abused the girl, this negative experience would have touched her sensitive emotional nexus like a burning match and set the whole thing alight.

She seemed to be blaming her mother for the mental torture she must have been suffering. Over weeks, months perhaps, she’d built Julia up as a bogeyman figure. Martin knew that he wouldn’t be able to deter her quickly from her actions with sound argument. And certainly not with the truth. So he lied to her and said, ‘I’m a friend of Querky’s.’

Bingo!

He’d remembered the name Shahla had used when contacting potential clients on Easyexit. Elena’s suspicion proved well founded. There was a connection between Lisa and Shahla too. And by pretending to be Querky’s accomplice he’d gained Lisa’s attention. But also that of her mother, who stared at him wide-eyed and was just about to open her mouth when she read – correctly – from the brief glance he shot at her that this was not the time to butt in.

‘Querky doesn’t have any friends,’ Lisa said, somewhat bewildered.

‘Oh, yes, she does. I’m her assistant.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘No I’m not. She sent me here to tell you to stop.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, honest. The plan has been put on hold.’

‘Oh, really? So why didn’t she come to tell me herself?’

‘Because she…’ Martin’s first instinct was to tell the truth. Because she’s dead. But that might provoke the worst reaction possible. Searching for the appropriate response he began, ‘Because at the moment she’s…’

‘Here. Here I am.’

Martin swivelled around in shock. Elena was standing in the cabin doorway, as out of breath as he was.

‘You?’ Martin heard Lisa say behind him. He turned back to the girl. ‘You’re Querky?’

‘Yes,’ Elena said. ‘We met on Easyexit.’

‘You, you sound completely different.’

‘Because I had an accident,’ Elena said, pointing to her disfigured face. ‘It’s going to take a while before I get my old voice back.’ She pushed past Martin. ‘I’ve got a message for you from Tom.’

‘From my boyfriend?’ Lisa’s face lit up.