Dave snorted and jolted into consciousness. He half turned and squinted at Nick through the wire. ‘Nothing to worry about,’ he grunted.

‘Where are we going?’ Nick asked.

‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘You may as well tell me.’

‘We may as well tell you fuck all.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Chas cut in. ‘We’ll soon be saying goodbye, Nicko,’ he went on in a louder voice. ‘You and the climate queen are going to the seaside. Pity you didn’t bring your buckets with you, really. You could’ve made sandcastles.’

‘You’re going to release us?’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. In my experience, these things don’t always go according to plan.’

‘Where are you taking us?’

‘Like I said, the seaside. I haven’t been on a beach in God knows how long. It’ll make a nice change.’

‘The seaside where?’

‘Porthtowan, down in Cornwall. Know it, do you?’

Porthtowan? Why would they be going there – of all places?

‘Yeah. You know it. I can tell. That good news or bad?’ Nick said nothing. ‘Mmm. Sounds like you’re not sure. Well, never mind. Not long before we find out. Should be an interesting morning. One way or another.’

TWENTY-NINE

WADA WAS UP before dawn, but not, it transpired, before mrs Griffiths, her rosy-cheeked landlady. ‘Morning, deary,’ she trilled from the kitchen as Wada came down from her room. ‘You’re a bit early for breakfast.’

‘Oh, I realize that, Mrs Griffiths. I am … going for a walk.’

‘Catch the best of the day. Good idea. Birdwatcher, are you? Or hoping to spot some seals?’

‘I, er, enjoy nature,’ Wada replied noncommittally, drifting towards the front door.

‘Got a pair of binoculars? You won’t see much with the naked eye.’

‘Binoculars? Er, no.’

‘Well, borrow these.’ Mrs Griffiths lifted a pair off a hook and handed them to her. ‘It’ll be like you’re standing right next to whatever you’re looking at.’

‘Oh. Thank you. Is it … low tide, do you know?’

‘Should be. Good as. It was high tide around midnight.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Be back by half past nine if you want breakfast.’

Wada slipped the binoculars into her shoulder bag as she headed along the road towards the beach. The sky was mostly clear, although purple-tinged clouds were massed on the horizon. The sun hadn’t quite risen yet. Wada moved fast in the almost monochrome light, head down, still cautious about showing herself but aware that the decisive moment in the life of Peter Ellery/Evans/Driscoll was fast approaching.