Chapters (152)
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- I. Sunday
- Sunday
- 1
- 2
- 3
- II. Monday
- Monday
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- III. Tuesday
- Tuesday
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- IV. Wednesday
- Wednesday
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- V. Saturday
- Saturday
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- VI. Sunday
- Sunday
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- VII. Monday
- Monday
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- VIII. Tuesday
- Tuesday
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- Epilogue
- Two Weeks Later
- Afterword
- Get Exclusive John Milton Material
- Also By Mark Dawson
- In the John Milton Series
- In the Beatrix Rose Series
- In the Isabella Rose Series
- About Mark Dawson
“It’s torrential,” he said.
“That’s Bali for you. It’ll be glorious tomorrow.”
“Thanks for coming out.”
“I should be in bed with my husband,” she said. “Not only that, but you smell like a wet dog. How about you tell me what’s going on?”
Milton explained what he had found when he returned to the hotel.
“How did they find her?” she asked, her forehead creased with a deep frown.
“I don’t know.”
“Shit,” Victoria said. “Maybe it was Edwin.”
“It doesn’t make much difference now. What’s done is done.”
“What about the drugs?”
“Gone,” Milton said.
“The police must have taken them.”
“I’m not sure,” Milton said. “I got there five minutes after they did, and they were already bringing her out. They didn’t stay, either. There was no obvious investigation. No one was dusting for prints. No forensics. They even left my bag.”
“Bali isn’t London,” Victoria said. “How shall I say this? Standards are different here.”
“I get that,” Milton said. “I’ve worked in places like this before, and what happened to her was much too quick to be anything other than a set-up. I’m speculating, but if you asked me to guess, I’d say that someone took the drugs and then called a friend in the police to get Sakura out of the way.” He sucked his teeth. “Anyway—it doesn’t make much difference either way.”
“She’s definitely in trouble. The police won’t need the drugs to charge her with smuggling. The standard of proof is looser over here.”
“How quickly will they process her?”
“She could be charged, found guilty, and in prison by this time tomorrow.”
Milton exhaled. “That quickly?”
“They don’t mess about, especially with a foreigner convicted of smuggling.”
Milton had suspected as much. There was no time to waste.
“I need to get her out.”
“I thought you might say that,” Victoria said.
“I have to,” Milton corrected. “Not you. I can’t involve you in this.”
“I’m kind of involved already—seems like I found a hotel room and a doctor for a woman who’s about to get life for running drugs.”
“And none of that will ever come out,” Milton said.
“Didn’t say it would,” Victoria said. “But I’m helping anyway. I spoke to a friend of mine while I drove over. He’s been a customer in the police station half a dozen times, and he knows the layout.”
“A ‘customer’?”
“The police don’t always see eye to eye with him. Shall we leave it at that?”
Milton remembered what Victoria had said about the work she did for the hotel.
“I’m guessing your friend is…” He forgot the word.