‘So you know who the real bad guys are then. Why aren’t you going after them?’

‘I am going to go after them. I’ve got enough evidence to make them pay.’

Which is a lie. Because there’s nowhere near enough. It’s no longer raining.

‘Beat you to it. My version is better.’

‘The people you killed didn’t deserve that.’

‘My brother didn’t deserve that! He didn’t deserve to die face down, naked, screaming in pain with blood filling up his lungs. He didn’t fucking deserve any of that, not after the life he had. But he got it. He got it because of them. Their greed. And I didn’t deserve to see it happen. I didn’t deserve to survive when he died.’

He starts making a weird choking sound. It takes me a moment to realize he’s sobbing. The victim’s postures now make sense. It was a message, one only the people he meant to hurt the most could understand.

‘No, neither of you deserved that. And that’s why I’m going to make them pay. But I need your help to do that.’

‘And what, I’ll just go to prison?’

‘There’s no way to avoid it, you know that. But we can still hurt them; you can hurt them from prison. You can help me expose what they’ve done, what they’re most likely still doing, but I need you to –’

The gun smacks me on the back of the head. Through the pain I think of a bell being rung.

‘I’m going to make them pay, but I’m going to do it without you.’

‘Just tell me one thing, what did you do with Sabine?’

He laughs. ‘Every word you speak from now on just means I’m gonna do it slower. You get that, right?’

Up ahead I catch a glimpse of the treeline, another clearing perhaps, or maybe the edge of the forest. As we break through I look up to see the candyfloss smudge of dawn …