‘He says he wants to get back together with you.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. On the condition that you don’t hurt your mother.’

Mistrust flickered in Lisa’s eyes. Elena had overdone it.

‘You’re not Querky.’

‘Hey, Lisa, think about it. How else would I know about Tom and the video if you hadn’t emailed it to me?’

‘No, you’re lying. I bet you don’t know my nickname.’

‘Your…’ Elena’s voice started to wobble. She swallowed. It wasn’t only Martin who saw the visible signs of her uncertainty.

‘Tell me the nickname I’m registered on Easyexit with.’

‘You are…’ Elena turned to Martin in desperation. ‘Your nickname is…’ Red patches spread on the undamaged side of her face.

‘Forget it,’ Lisa said scornfully. ‘You’re not Querky. And Tom doesn’t want to have anything to do with me any more. You haven’t got any message from him.’

Her hand gripped the screwdriver more tightly.

‘Drop it!’ Martin said, now just a couple of paces away.

She looked at him, incensed. ‘You don’t reckon I stand a a chance against you, do you?’

‘If you try to attack your mother…’ Martin shook his head.

One minute earlier she could have hurt Julia badly, so badly perhaps that she’d have been able to throw her mother overboard.

But now the most she could do was give her mother a scratch before Martin snatched the screwdriver from her hand.

‘Well, the plan has failed then,’ Lisa said with a shrug.

She turned to her sobbing mother.

‘I hope you’re happy with Tom,’ she said, tossing the tool overboard.

Then she leaned against the railings and, together with the parapet she’d loosened with the screwdriver in the hours she’d waited for her mother, she fell into the depths like a guillotine.

71

Two weeks later

Internal Investigations

Berlin

The fan on the air conditioning unit, which was currently switched to heating mode, rattled as if a leaf had got caught up in it. Given that the interrogation room was in a soundproofed basement at least two kilometres from the nearest tree, this would have been rather surprising. It was much more likely that the humming box was on its last legs.

Martin was expecting a loud bang at any moment, to announce that the ancient thing below the ceiling had finally gone out of service.

Over the last few hours while he’d been attached to the lie detector, the unit had provided the room with warm air to some extent, but it stank of burned rubber.