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Back The Dead Line Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

‘I’ll get the other reporters stuck in,’ Ross joined in. ‘Robert can pull together some of the articles we’ll need. I’ll tell Xav we need a column. Video can get going on the footage. All that stuff from Greystone’s office and the Bangladesh filming needs to be edited too, with subtitles and the rest of it. Foreign can put together stuff on Bangladesh while Heather does a backgrounder on overseas surrogacy.’

Robert was the chief reporter, brilliant at pulling together dozens of complicated facts into a readable piece.

‘All right.’ Casey kicked at her suitcase. Fine.’

She stood up abruptly, her chin jutting out, and turned to Dash one more time.

‘I need to check one thing. It’s important. I need one day.’

Dash stared at Casey for a long time, tapping the desk with a biro.

‘Please,’ she managed. ‘We’ve got to do this right. Otherwise, what was the point in it all?’

‘All right,’ Dash said slowly. ‘You can have one more day, Casey. Then we publish what we know.’

He could see he had lost her already. Casey was checking her phone, thinking, before she looked up, eyes sharp.

‘We’ve been looking at this the wrong way.’

54

54

It was almost midnight when Casey’s flight landed at Nice airport, the darkness blotting out the rows of private jets lined up on the tarmac.

Past caring about the Post’s budget, she took a helicopter transfer down the coast, just a few miles to the tiny principality perched on the edge of France. The residents of Monaco treated the helicopter like a taxi service anyway, the ticket office tucked in next to the taxi counter.

Casey knew where she would find Maurice Delacroix. Folded into a booth at Teddy’s, the little nightclub next to the harbour side.

Delacroix saw her as soon as she walked in, and was on his feet in a second.

‘Cassandra.’ His mouth curved as he raised her hand to his lips. ‘It has been too long.’

Before Casey had sat down, a waiter rushed forwards with a fresh bottle of champagne. Delacroix spent more in Teddy’s than almost anyone else, and it was one waiter’s task to keep a watch on his table at all times.

‘Would you give us a moment, Tiphaine, my love?’ Maurice turned to the girl sitting on his right.

Tiphaine pouted, just for a beat. Then she stood and sashayed away across the club in her red feathered dress and Louboutin heels. Just before she reached the tiny dancefloor, she blew Delacroix a kiss over her shoulder.

‘That’ – Delacroix’s eyes ran over Casey – ‘is a beautiful dress.’

‘Thank you, Maurice.’ She caught his eye with a smile.

Casey disliked the skintight Hervé Léger dresses, but she had laughed about this one earlier with Miranda as she yanked open the cupboard in the corner of the investigations room.