Full of hatred and not wanting to hear anything more out of his mouth, Alfie ran at Alan. Roughly, he grabbed Alan’s arms, expertly tying them behind his back before slipping the rope down and round Alan’s ankles, then around the base of the radiator on the wall, making sure that the knot was tight.

Out of his other pocket, Alfie pulled a black roll of tape. ‘You ready for this?’

‘No … stop, look, maybe we can come to some agreement.’

Alfie sneered. ‘You have nothing I want.’ And with that, Alfie began to bind the black tape round and round Alan’s mouth.

Once he’d finished taping up his mouth, Alfie stared at Alan. ‘So, what I’m going to do now is say goodbye. I won’t be seeing you again, but then, Alan, nobody else will be seeing you either, so make the most of these last few hours. At about seven o’clock tonight, friends of mine will be coming to pay you a little visit, and make no mistake, they enjoy what they do, and they’ll take you somewhere that no one can hear you scream. And do you know what their speciality is, Alan? Burying people alive.’

Alan made muffled sounds of protest through the tape, and with a smile on his face, Alfie retorted, ‘That’s right. And the best thing about it is that you’ll have a lot of time to think … Enjoy the journey. Oh, and, Alan? I’ll see you in hell.’

40

Back at the house in Soho, Franny was frantically running around, pulling out cupboards and drawers, going into each and every wardrobe. She dragged out bags and shoes, pausing every few moments to rack her brain to see if she’d made a mistake; if in all the stress she’d absentmindedly brought in the suitcase of Bree’s belongings and the black bin liner full of her bloodstained clothing, rather than leaving them in the boot like she’d thought.

But the more she tried to think, the more she couldn’t. Every day, every memory seemed to merge into another. It didn’t make sense. She was certain that she’d left them in the car. She had to think … Think. When and where had she last seen them? But each time she came back to the same answer; she’d left them in the boot and now they were missing.

Trembling, she put her hands to her face, feeling the tears dripping through her fingers.

‘Franny. Franny.’

Terrified, she screamed and looked up, spinning around. She shook her head then scrambled over to her bedside cabinet, pulling out the gun from the drawer. She pointed the gun in the air. ‘You leave me alone, you hear me? You leave me alone?’ She whirled around, hearing the wind and the rain pick up outside.

‘Franny. Franny.’