‘Please.’ Casey’s eyes were on the gun. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘Take the bargain,’ Clio screamed, all control gone. ‘I’ll give you everything. I can’t . . .’

‘No.’ Casey gritted her teeth. ‘Never.’

Abruptly, Clio threw down the chain. She ran towards the Cirrus, clambering aboard.

‘Don’t do this,’ Casey shouted after her. ‘Please. You’ll never make it. This plane can’t take off down that short a runway.’

Clio’s eyes blazed. ‘Get away from me, you bitch. Get away or I’ll kill you for the fucking sake of it.’

The engines roared, slicing through Casey’s words. Clio was throwing anything heavy out of the little plane, lightening the load as much as possible. As Casey watched, Clio hurled her own rucksack away.

‘Please don’t,’ Casey screamed.

Clio turned the little plane in a tight circle. Casey could just make her out in the cockpit, leaning forward, urging on the little plane as it if were her black thoroughbred. She taxied the plane as far down the runway as possible, until the wings almost scraped the trees as it turned. The engines were screaming now, the noise deafening Casey as she scrambled to the side of the runway. The horse galloped away into the forest, tail bannering in the sun.

‘Please . . .’ Casey shouted.

But the little plane was moving forward now. Slow at first, and then accelerating as fast as possible, racing over the grass, into the morning sun.

Clio almost made it. The landing gear clipped the huge trailer, and the Cirrus plunged like a swift shot from the skies. The nose of the plane dived into the ground with astonishing violence, burying itself in the grass as the Cirrus cartwheeled, all its speed gone in a shattering whirl and a final stomach-turning crunch.

‘Clio,’ Casey muttered.

She found that she was running up the field, snatching up the chain and sprinting towards the stillness of the plane, the handcuffs jolting her wrists.

As she ran, Miranda appeared, almost a surprise. She had dived to the side of the airstrip as the Cirrus raced towards the trailer.

‘My God, Casey,’ and Casey knew her face was bad from Miranda’s horror. ‘What did she do to you?’

There wasn’t time to stop, wasn’t time to explain. Casey dashed on, racing to the splintered wreckage.

Clio was dying, Casey could see that at once. ‘Call an ambulance,’ she screamed to Miranda.

‘But—’

‘Call one,’ Casey shouted. ‘Right now.’

The cockpit had ended up on its side, quite separate from the airplane’s wings. The windscreen was smashed away, and Clio was suspended by her harness, the blood pouring from her head. Below her waist, the plane had crushed her, the heavy machinery crumpled like paper.

‘Clio.’ Casey scrambled towards her. ‘Clio.’

For a second, Clio smiled up at her, her teeth red with blood.

‘Hello, Miss Benedict.’

‘Stay still, Clio. Help is coming, I promise.’