‘Need a top-up,’ he says brightly, unscrewing the cap and pouring the solution into the vitrine, which is almost full.

‘You don’t have to do this, Jamie. We can work something out.’

He uses a large plastic paddle to stir the solution around the vitrine.

‘I was genuinely surprised to see you at my door. I own this property, however I’m not registered at this address. Someone else is. Someone rich who spends a lot of time abroad. Fake, of course. So, it was quite a shock to learn you had found me here. I was delighted too. Some might call it serendipity. Because you know, Grace, this was meant to be. This is your destiny.’

Archer tries to wriggle from her bonds but the plastic is tight and cuts into her skin.

‘Don’t do that, Grace. I don’t want the goods damaged. It will ruin the exhibit.’

Archer shudders.

‘I figured out how you found me. It seems that treacherous snake, Merrick, switched on the burner phone before he died. Always best to work alone. I realise that now.’

‘The police will trace the phone.’

‘Yes, they will, and your phone too. However, both devices have been secreted in the back of the cemetery gardener’s truck and are making their way out of the city as we speak. Ingenious, no?’

Archer’s heart sinks and to make matters worse she hears muffled police sirens in the distance.

‘There they go,’ quips Jamie.

‘They’ll come back.’

‘Possibly. But the resident of chez Blackwell is away on business.’

Archer notices the tapping sound has begun to slow to the pace of a metronome.

Jamie switches off the water. He removes his gloves and approaches her.

‘You’re so beautiful, Grace.’ His hand brushes the bloody side of her head and she flinches.

‘We need to fix you up.’

He pushes the trolley gently toward the sink and looms over her.

‘Lie back, please. I need to wash your hair.’

Archer tries to roll from the trolley but Jamie gently pulls her back. ‘We have precious little time together, Grace. Don’t make me crush that beautiful neck before I need to.’

Archer realises there is no point in aggravating him. Any time she can buy is time she might be able to use to her advantage.

He smiles. ‘Your eyes. One emerald. One sapphire, like Jake said. You’re quite something, Grace.’

She grits her teeth. ‘You pushed him over. You hurt him on purpose, didn’t you?’

‘I do what I have to do for my art, Grace.’