Chapters (50)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Prologue
- FOUR DAYS BEFORE
- Sour Hound
- Sucked Back In
- Lucie Muller
- White Wolf, Black Wolf
- THREE DAYS BEFORE
- Crumbled Away
- Bit of a Punk
- Disturbance in the Force
- Knocking the Walls Off
- Don’t Call Me, I’ll Call You
- Appropriately Medicated
- Friends in Common
- Lifestyle
- Who?
- Oscar
- Police Brutality
- TWO DAYS BEFORE
- Sorry
- Client Confidentiality
- Glass
- Chateau Lafite 2000
- There’s a Man With a Gun
- For Your Own Safety
- Fire
- Stark Night
- ONE DAY BEFORE
- Green
- It’s Not The World – It’s How You Look At It
- Familiar
- Volunteer Number Six
- A Very Dangerous Game
- DAY ZERO
- Junk
- Just Like the Others
- Burn
- Is This a Joke?
- Schizo
- Sour Hound II
- Moonlight
- Make Them Pay
- Bite
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- WELCOME TO AMSTERDAM
- THE BEGINNING
‘If I’d known about alcoholics then I would have got out right away, but I didn’t. I told myself he was sorry. I believed him when he said it wasn’t going to happen again, that it was going to be okay. Stupid. But it was okay for a couple of weeks, and I was almost forgetting it when he came home later than usual one night. Which is when this happened.’ She reaches her hand round to her back. ‘I threw him out after that, but he kept coming back late at night, banging on the door. I had to call the police, your lot. Have to say I wasn’t that impressed; this guy just told me to stay inside. So I terminated the rent and got another place. Seemed like the only thing to do.’
‘But then he found you again.’
‘That was just bad luck. I was walking home from work and I heard someone call my name. He was at that bar, standing outside on his own, having a drink.’
‘You think it was?’
‘Was what?’
‘Bad luck?’
‘Well, it wasn’t good luck. Unless you mean because we got to meet …’
I agree with her. But what I really meant was, was it simply bad luck Tom had been there on her route home? Or something else. Something more akin to a plan?
I fall asleep thinking I might just look him up on the system tomorrow.
The whiskey started off rich and full and peaty. A whole world to dive into after the long day. Now, at the bottom of the second glass, it just tastes harsh, tastes like alcohol and little else. He knows he should be going to bed; he has to be back in the office first thing, but with all that’s going on he’s not been able to sleep. The whiskey had seemed like a good compromise. He’s just considering popping a couple of painkillers, the ones he swallowed earlier to stave off the migraine not enough to see him through the night or fend off the assault the single malt is going to mount in a few hours, when his phone lights up.
‘Bad news. My source there says he’s actually on the team now, officially.’
‘Where is he now?’
The words feel a little off in his mouth, not exactly slurred but just … off. He hopes it’s not obvious.
‘He’s been out all evening with a woman, but he’s back at his houseboat now.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t act pre-emptively. I’ve been told we can send a little message.’
‘Thing is, the woman’s still with him. At this stage it’s fair to assume she’s staying the night, which kind of complicates things.’
‘Keep watching. There’ll be an opportunity; you just need to be ready to take it.’