‘Why are you trying to protect him, Victoria? You can’t still love him.’

‘Love?’ said Victoria, spitting the word at Christine. ‘What could you possibly know about love?’ She folded her arms across her stomach and looked out of the window. ‘Please go now.’

‘Victoria . . .’

‘Go.’

Police attention was focused on the house in Corso Magenta. Rivelli had been seen coming and going – he was a prominent local figure, and hard to miss. But when officers arrived at the palazzo to question Signor Rivelli about allegations being made about him in Los Angeles, he was not at home. Contessa Luisella Mirabelli delle Chiaie received the officers wearing what looked like court dress, a white fur stole around her shoulders, jewels in her fine white hair. ‘My son is away on business,’ she said, and would say no more. They made a perfunctory search of the premises, but Rivelli was not there. Their commanding officer, who was a good friend of the Rivelli family, eventually called his counterpart in LA and told him that he was unable to question Signor Rivelli at this time.

And in the interim, Rivelli slipped quietly out of Malpensa airport on a flight for Tokyo. He flew economy, under false papers, and was admitted through immigration as a Saudi citizen visiting Japan on business. It was a busy day at Narita Airport, and nobody gave the well dressed, highly westernised businessman a second look. Mr Abdulaziz took a taxi into town.

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Three crimes, three jurisdictions. Christine flew home as uncertain as when she flew out, visions of Rivelli and Victoria and the unborn child dancing ahead of her, just out of reach.

There were messages from John as soon as she turned her phone on. Instead of driving home, she went straight to chambers, parked the car and walked smartly round to Ferguson McCreath’s offices.

‘The driver has turned state’s evidence,’ he said, before she had even sat down. ‘He’s singing like a canary, as they say in the movies.’

‘Dave?’

‘The very same. He’s not unknown to Scotland Yard, and he faces extradition for a string of charges as long as your arm. He’s done a deal with the French police. He’ll give them enough to put Rivelli away for life if they’ll put him into a witness protection programme.’

‘Seriously? He’s that scared?’

‘So it appears. He moved Victoria on Rivelli’s orders.’

‘Good. But about the accident?’

‘He knows nothing.’

‘Then it’s not good enough.’

‘That’s exactly what the French police said. And so Dave had to dig a bit further back into his memory. Dig being the operative word.’

‘And what did he find?’