Kotsev smiled. ‘You may know, Sergeant Fry, that we have a highly efficient secret service in Bulgaria, the Darzavna Sigurnost. They were trained by the KGB in the old days, and many of them have remained in their employment. Their usefulness did not disappear with Communism.’

‘I’m not sure what you’re saying, Georgi.’

‘Some of these people have a talent for convenient assassinations. What more efficient way could there be to remove annoying criminals and save the difficulty of a trial, where embarrassing facts about government officials might emerge? A few extra stotinki in the pockets of a Darzavna Sigurnost operative. Boom, boom. Problem solved. Now it’s, “See, Mr EU Commissioner, we don’t have the nasty Mafia any more. How lucky. Now you can let us into your club.”’

Fry put down her fork. ‘No, that’s too incredible,’ she said.

Kotsev’s eyes crinkled as he held up a forkful of steak.

‘To you, perhaps. But you’re not in Kansas now.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cooper took his brother’s call at home in the middle of the evening, just as he was settling down to watch a good film with a bottle of beer in his hand and the cat on his knee.

‘Ben, it says here that older fathers are more liable to have kids with schizophrenia. If you’re between forty-five and forty-nine, you’re twice as likely to have a child with the illness as a man of twenty-five.’

‘Matt, you’re only thirty-five now. You were still in your twenties when you had the girls.’

‘Yes, well. I’ve written down all the facts to talk to the doctor about. Did you know schizophrenia can start at any age, but most people are affected in their late teens or early twenties? In their teens, Ben.’

‘Considering the average teenager, I wonder how they can tell.’

Matt had taken a breath to continue, but came to an abrupt halt as if his brother had made a rude noise down the phone.

‘It’s not funny, Ben.’

Ben found himself standing in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. The framed photograph on the wall was one of the few things he’d brought with him when he moved out of Bridge End Farm. It was both reassuring and somehow disturbing to have his father’s eyes watching him as he listened to his brother.

‘You know something?’ he said. ‘Mum would have found it funny.’

Matt sighed. ‘For heaven’s sake, Ben.’

And the strange thing was that Matt was so similar to their father in many ways. Even this conversation sounded like one of those occasions when Joe Cooper would sit his sons down and give them advice. A few words of caution. . . It had been one of his favourite phrases.

‘Matt, have you thought of joining one of the support groups? There’s one called Rethink. It used to be the National Schizophrenia Fellowship.’