Back The Inside Man Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. PROLOGUE
  2. CHAPTER 1
  3. CHAPTER 2
  4. CHAPTER 3
  5. CHAPTER 4
  6. CHAPTER 5
  7. CHAPTER 6
  8. CHAPTER 7
  9. CHAPTER 8
  10. CHAPTER 9
  11. CHAPTER 10
  12. CHAPTER 11
  13. CHAPTER 12
  14. CHAPTER 13
  15. CHAPTER 14
  16. CHAPTER 15
  17. CHAPTER 16
  18. CHAPTER 17
  19. CHAPTER 18
  20. CHAPTER 19
  21. CHAPTER 20
  22. CHAPTER 21
  23. CHAPTER 22
  24. CHAPTER 23
  25. CHAPTER 24
  26. CHAPTER 25
  27. CHAPTER 26
  28. CHAPTER 27
  29. CHAPTER 28
  30. CHAPTER 29
  31. CHAPTER 30
  32. CHAPTER 31
  33. CHAPTER 32
  34. CHAPTER 33
  35. CHAPTER 34
  36. CHAPTER 35
  37. CHAPTER 36
  38. CHAPTER 37
  39. CHAPTER 38
  40. CHAPTER 39
  41. CHAPTER 40
  42. CHAPTER 41
  43. CHAPTER 42
  44. CHAPTER 43
  45. CHAPTER 44
  46. CHAPTER 45
  47. CHAPTER 46
  48. EPILOGUE
  49. About the Author
  50. Also by James Phelps

The suitcase weighed a tonne. At least that’s what ninety kilograms felt like to Ali. He was glad he’d opted for a case with wheels, not the cheaper one he’d looked at first. He’d put the hacksaw, cleaver and reciprocal saw inside after wiping them down. Then he’d put the blood-drained and bagged body parts on top of the tools. He had planned to burn Tim’s Quran, along with the four passports and mobile phone packaging, in the bathtub, but in the end he’d put them in the suitcase too, figuring it was probably some sort of sin to burn the holy book.

His own well-thumbed Quran was in the backpack he was now wearing, along with the bomb that Tim had made before he went soft, the phones, the cash and the piece of paper with the name and number. Everything else – his hair, his capped tooth, the razors, the cleaning rags, the eleven spent bottles of DNA Away, and his neck chain – was in the industrial-strength garbage bag he held in his other hand. Then he’d poured a full bottle of the DNA killer into the bag just to be sure.

Ali wheeled the suitcase to the lift, pressed the down arrow, then gave the button a wipe with a DNA Away–soaked rag as the doors creakily opened. He did the same with the ‘G’ button on the inside. Once he was out of the lift and on the street, he pulled one of the mobile phones from his bag, opened an encrypted application called Wickr and called the number that was on the piece of paper.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there in ninety minutes.’

He took the SIM card out of the phone, snapped it with his teeth and swallowed it, then he stomped on the phone and dropped the shattered gadget into a container filled with DNA Away. He closed the lid, put the bottle into the garbage bag and tossed it all into a street bin.

Ali threw the suitcase into the Gulf of Finland. He knew there was a chance that it would be found, but it wouldn’t matter. As with everything else, he’d ensured there would be no traces of DNA. On his way from the shore to the dock, his load so much lighter now, he wondered if the case had sunk all the way to Hell.