He waited until they had crossed into France before he pulled over, turned on Saunders’ tablet phone once more and dialled the number as he’d been instructed. The person on the line picked up after a single ring. A sombre, gravelly voice that wasn’t Saunders’ answered, ‘Hope?’

Three in the morning, and they were just sitting there waiting for Ben to report to base.

Ben said, ‘Tell your boss that Jaden Wolf is dead. I’m emailing you the details right now. Stand by.’

The voice on the line said nothing. Ben hung up without another word. He brought up the secure email address Saunders had provided him, entered the GPS location, attached the images and then hit SEND. Once the message was delivered, he ripped out the tablet’s SD card and tossed both it and the device out of the car window and into the roadside bushes. He restarted the car and they sped onwards. Things were in motion now, the clock was ticking and there was no turning back. No stopping. Ben’s forward momentum would have to be unrelenting until this was over. For his own sake. For Grace’s.

He lit a Gauloise and pressed harder on the accelerator. He could still taste the burnt-meat smell of the barbecued corpse on his lips.

But more death was coming. He could almost smell that, too.

Chapter 22

The day that Chrissie Cassidy turned twenty-nine years of age, she was a fulfilled and successful Millennial girl, living the dream as a young executive partner in the financial consultancy firm she’d co-founded with her boyfriend Gerald Shaw, who, like her, was a graduate from London Business School. The couple had recently moved into a nice two-bedroom apartment in the buzzing, happening new neighbourhood of Wembley Park. They enjoyed a rich social life, loved to explore ethnic food markets together, frequented theatres and exhibitions and were into yoga and healthy living. They talked about getting married, and dreamed of parenthood at some point in the future. It seemed that their prospects couldn’t have been more stable.

Life was good.

That was, until two days after her birthday, when Chrissie’s happy existence suddenly fell apart upon the shock discovery that Gerald had, for the last four months, been screwing Annabel, their PA. Gerald at first protested his innocence, then confessed with much grovelling and pleading for mercy, then blamed Chrissie for having provoked him to infidelity with her cold and unloving ways. What was a guy to do?