‘Oh, we’re fine. Nick’s workplace got broken into late last night, so he’s been in and out of the house all night sorting that. Josie is with friends while we give statements to the police. Everything is fine.’ She smiled, gave a sly glance at her watch, stepped inside and closed the door. ‘The police are being so nice, and I wanted to make them some of that chargrilled mackerel and sour beetroot you did for us last week. Do you mind if I pick some of your beetroot?’

Of course he didn’t. He spun his chair and led, and she had to contain her eagerness to get into his back garden.

Ninety seconds later, Nick was still talking to Anna, who wasn’t there to hear any of it, when the train rumbled past the New York Stadium and took a small iron bridge across the River Don. That was where it happened.

The phone rang. Nick jammed it to his ear and opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get the chance.

‘Don’t say a word. Wait. Take the money out of the box, but leave it in the freezer bag. I want you to read out a couple of the serial numbers for me.’

Nick did as instructed. He dropped the box on the floor and held the wrapped cash in one hand, thoroughly disjointed. Serial numbers? He could feel blood pulsing in his neck. Ahead, six rows away, he saw White Coat, peeking at him from behind a guy in a beanie.

But Nick had only just made it on to the train. White Coat must have bombed through the doors in a serious hurry, and that could mean only one thing.

Suddenly, it hit him. White Coat would be taking the money. Minus the box, the cash bundle was small enough to secretly slip to the guy as he walked past. It was all another trick. There was no locker awaiting him at—

‘Toss the money and the phone out the window, RIGHT NOW!’

The vehemence in the scream allowed no pause, no deliberation. Nick leaped to his feet and rammed open a sliding portion of the window at the top, and tossed out the package. The phone was right behind, before he’d had chance to realise he was killing his only link to the kidnappers.

In the half-second he got to imprint the lay of the land in his memory, he saw a river, and thick shrubbery along both banks, but he also saw a path running parallel to the water, and on that path was what looked like a quad bike. And then the train was over the bridge and the money was far behind. He didn’t see where it landed, whether it was on land or water, and he didn’t see anyone near the quad. But he didn’t need to.