‘I don’t know who the hell you are, but you can either get the hell out of my office or I’ll get security to throw you out.’ Marshall turned to the receptionist, who was hovering nervously by the door. ‘How the hell did he get in here?’

‘I tried to stop him, Mr Marshall, but he was very insistent. He just walked in. He said he was some sort of doctor.’

Marshall said, ‘I’ll deal with you later. Get security in here.’ The woman scampered down the corridor.

David asked, ‘Is that how you get off, Marshall, bullying women?’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve told you once to get out of my office, Dr whatever-your-name-is. I won’t tell you a third time.’

‘Barbrook, Dr David Barbrook. Ring any bells?’

‘You! You’ve got a sodding nerve busting in here like that. You and your mob of halfwits have already cost me a small bloody fortune.’

‘It’ll cost you more than that if you ever threaten one of my team again, mate.’

‘It’s my site and I’m paying you bunch of incompetent fuckwits. I’m entitled to my money’s worth and so far I’ve seen precious little sign that I’m getting it. And as for that useless fucking bitch you’ve put in charge—’

David swiped his hands across the desk, sending Marshall’s phone, laptop and a large pile of filing clattering to the floor.

‘Why, you bastard!’ Marshall leant back and swung a round-armed punch at the side of David’s head.

David saw it coming just in time and, swaying to one side, shoved the desk hard at Marshall. It sent him sprawling into the mass of scattered electrical goods and paperwork.

‘I’ll have you for this, Barbrook. You see if I don’t.’

As David turned to leave, two uniformed security guards appeared in the doorway. Both of them looked old enough to be his father.

David said, ‘Alright, lads. Nothing to see here. Mr Marshall and I were just having a little difference of opinion. I’m leaving now.’

The shorter of the two security guards stifled a grin as he peered over the desk and saw Marshall on his hands and knees trying to get to his feet. Turning back to David, he said, ‘It’s too late for that, son. The police are already on their way.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The weather that had looked so promising when she’d left the bed and breakfast that morning didn’t last into the afternoon. As Clare picked her way back down to the car park, heavy drops of rain had begun to splash into the residue of yesterday’s puddles. The afternoon called for a less exposed location.