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Chapters (74)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Chapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Chapter 53
  58. Chapter 54
  59. Chapter 55
  60. Chapter 56
  61. Chapter 57
  62. Chapter 58
  63. Chapter 59
  64. Chapter 60
  65. Chapter 61
  66. Chapter 62
  67. Chapter 63
  68. Chapter 64
  69. Chapter 65
  70. Chapter 66
  71. Epilogue
  72. Acknowledgements
  73. About the Author
  74. Extract from The Mayfly

Earlier that day, in the pebble-dashed house, the owner had reflected on the previous day’s work.

Killing Simeon Ali had been easier than expected, although the owner had never killed anyone before. Simeon was the first. It was not something that the owner could even have contemplated until recently, but needs must, and Simeon had betrayed the owner. He had brought his demise upon himself. He had been given fair warning.

Luring Simeon to the house had been easy. Passing Simeon a glass of water laced with Rohypnol and watching him drink it had been easy. Suffocating Simeon with cling film while he was passed out on the owner’s sofa had been draining, leaving the owner exhausted. There was no physical reaction of significance – Simeon’s body went limp quickly. But the owner had nearly fainted from the rush of adrenaline.

Killing Alexia Elias had been even more satisfying. Again, the owner had been amazed at how easy it had been to entice the fraud to leave her London residence alone and scurry north to her former home. How ridiculously naive! There, the murder had produced a rush that surpassed that which he had experienced when killing Simeon. It appeared that killing someone while they remained conscious was a far more intense experience. It had taken all the owner’s strength to finish the job.

The owner had spent many months considering the best way to kill a person. Considering first, that the most efficient way would be to tie wire to a fixed point, loop it around the victim’s neck and pull it tight, severing the head with one hard tug. The Indonesian gangsters had perfected that technique in the massacre of communists in 1965, but the concept presented too many logistical complications for the owner, not least of which included the amount of blood and mess that would be made.

In the end, the owner had settled on asphyxia. What better way to destroy a body than to starve it of its most basic necessity, oxygen? The soul is extinguished in the same way that fire is. Although killing had only been the start of the fraud’s punishment.

Initially, Simeon’s decision not to participate in the exposure of Alexia had been a disappointment. On reflection, the alternative plan was far more fulfilling and had given the owner the opportunity to put into practice the results of months of research and, to tell the truth, the owner may have secretly wanted things to have played out this way.

They would find her soon. The lawyer had purportedly found the picture of Julian standing in front of the old house and would surely make visiting the property a priority. It was important that the lawyer made the discovery. The owner wanted him to see what happens to fraudsters and traitors, dispositions that he was only one step away from. But then, surely he already knew?