She stopped to open her bag but as her footsteps fell silent, she thought she heard another set behind her. She turned, but saw no one, just the dark, empty lane. The hairs went up on the back of her neck. It was strange; she could have sworn she’d heard something. She suddenly didn’t want to be standing there in the middle of the lane and hurried onwards.

She heard it again. The rhythmic tread of someone walking, the weight of the footsteps indicating it was a man. He must be behind her, following her. She quickened her pace but then all was silent. She risked another stop. Listened. Didn’t hear anything but her own pulse pumping in her ears. Perhaps she had imagined it.

A hand landed on her shoulder. She screamed, and a second hand covered her mouth.

‘Shush,’ said a voice in her ear. It was a voice she recognized, although she couldn’t place it. She went rigid with fear, knowing she wouldn’t be able to escape, to outrun him, even if she tried. His grip on her lessened, then he removed his hand, and it was Justin Holmes who stepped into her view.

‘What the—’ she started but he spoke over her.

‘You need to stop this thing. Who are you, anyway? Some sort of reporter?’

‘Stop what?’ she said tremulously.

‘Don’t mess about. You don’t know what you’re getting in to.’

Suddenly something snapped inside her. An animalistic anger and pain that boiled over, and she knew no fear. ‘Oh, I know,’ she said. ‘I know exactly. I know what you’re doing in those fields. And I know what your bosses did to my daughter.’

He frowned. ‘What?’

‘They killed her! Got that man to mow her down on her bike. Eighteen months ago. An innocent girl, my girl.’

He staggered backwards. ‘You’re her mother?’

She felt all the air go out of her. He hadn’t denied it, it was true.

It was all she could do not to collapse. She made herself breathe. ‘I’m not going to be bullied by you. Or Rob. You’ve both become very pally. And you’re short-changing him. Ten thousand? It’s insulting. His daughter’s brain is worth a mere ten thousand to you?’

Justin didn’t answer, he was just staring at her and it was then she noticed something odd. He was hyper, wired. There was something frantic about the look in his eyes, a deep, long-suffering fear.

‘You need to stop, you need to.’ He’d grabbed her arms in his urgency and she tried to back away, but he was gripping her too hard. ‘Trust me, pack it in, while you still can.’

‘Get off! Get off me!’ He was frightening her, and she tried again to pull away. Eventually she shoved him off and then turned and ran.

FORTY-FOUR

The storm that had been threatening all day was finally coming, Kate could smell it. The metallic tang to the air, the sudden drop in temperature – like a monster’s cold breath warning of its imminent arrival.