Georgie grunted. ‘I’d prefer a box of chocolates and some petrol station flowers.’

‘You’re easily pleased.’ Priest smiled, and she smiled back. ‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ He produced a piece of paper and laid it out in front of her. She took the paper and unfolded it.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s a letter, from Simeon to Mims. She contacted me earlier and gave me a copy.’

‘But Simeon’s . . .’

‘Dead, yes. No change there. He sent this long before he died.’

‘Why has it only just arrived?’

‘It was airmailed to a courier in California. They’re a firm that specialise in unusual situations. Their instructions were simple. Every day at eleven o’clock, Simeon would check in with them by text. If he didn’t check in by the end of the day, they were instructed to send the letter to Mims.’

Georgie looked down. The letter was handwritten, with care. ‘So the letter would only get released if something happened to Simeon that prevented him from checking in.’

‘That’s right. Although, judging from the first line, I guess he’d envisaged fleeing rather than being murdered.’

Dear Mims

If you have received this letter, then I am in exile. Do not try and find me. Do not tell anyone about this letter, or its contents, except for Charlie Priest. I trust him. You need to trust him too, and me.

Dominique and Alexia Elias are going to be exposed, I am sure of it. But I’m no longer sure whose side I’m on. Everything is so confused. I can’t tell who’s bad and who’s good anymore.

A long time ago I met a man who wrapped me up in his crusade so completely that I was swept away with it. This man’s name is Karl Jones. I also call him USER3412. I was sure when I first started out that all this man wanted to do was to expose Alexia Elias as a woman who took bribes from a terrorist organisation.

He contacted me just after I had stopped working for the Elias Foundation. He said he was a reporter, looking into the Turkey scandal. He said I could talk to him and they wouldn’t name me as a source. I agreed and we met at a cafe in Soho, several times. We became friends. We both clearly had a deep dislike of Alexia Elias. We both knew she was corrupt but had no real proof. Then one day he just suggested to me that perhaps we didn’t need proof, we needed evidence.

I agreed to make something up, based on what I knew and some other documents. In doing so, I know I was extremely foolish, but we had to take her down, somehow.

Now, I am beginning to think that either the plan has changed, or the plan was never just about that in the first place.