It was a long, narrow island. The Mazda remained on its steady northward bearing for thirty-five minutes and reached a place called The Cronk, then made a series of turns onto increasingly narrow and bending lanes until they were deep in the middle of empty, remote countryside. The tiny road trickled towards a heathery hillside that loomed up ahead. It was after 8.40 p.m. and the evening was growing dark. In the fading light Ben could see the weathered ruins of an ancient stone church nestled close to the foot of the hill, just a few walls and the crumbling tower of its steeple still standing. The bald guy headed straight for the ruins, bumped over the long grass for thirty yards and coasted to a halt nearby. He left the engine running and turned in his seat. ‘We’re there.’

‘I thought we were being taken to see Vincent Eritas,’ Ben said.

The bald guy replied, ‘This is where he lives.’

Ben and Wolf got out. The bald guy put the car in gear and drove away, leaving them standing there alone by the ruins. There wasn’t another living soul in sight. Nothing moved except for the ripple of the wind through the heather and the tall grass.

Wolf pulled a face and said, ‘He lives here? Seriously? Either I was right and this guy’s a total nutjob, or else we’ve been good and proper fucking stitched up.’

Ben was about to reply when his phone went. It was the same number that had called them earlier in London.

‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ said the voice of Vincent Eritas. ‘So glad you could make it.’

‘This has got to be a joke, yes?’

‘Not in the least. May I please direct you to the green door on the far side of the church steeple?’

Ben got the strangest feeling that he was being watched. He looked around him but saw nothing. He led a perplexed-looking Wolf through the long grass towards the ruined steeple. They walked around its corner, and sure enough, there inset into the craggy stonework of the old tower was a smooth, modern metal security door. It was painted dull olive green to better blend into its surroundings, and looked a little like the entrance to a military bunker. There was no window, no external handle or lock. Ben tapped it with a knuckle. Thick, heavy-gauge steel, bulletproof; probably bombproof too.

Wolf said, ‘This is getting screwier by the second.’

Ben couldn’t disagree with him. But neither of them could have imagined what they were about to find behind the green door.

From somewhere inside came the faint click of an electronic lock mechanism. The door opened a crack.

Ben and Wolf exchanged puzzled glances. Wolf said, ‘After you.’

Ben pushed the heavy door open wider and stepped through.

Chapter 43