Ross was not entirely surprised when the phone was answered on the first ring. Only a select few were privy to the number, which was changed on a regular basis before the new details were carefully circulated. Until that moment, Louis had not even been aware that SAC Edgar Ross of the Federal Bureau of Investigation was one of those with knowledge of its latest iteration.

‘What the fuck do you want,’ said Louis, once Ross had identified himself, ‘and how did you get this number?’

‘To answer the second question first,’ said Ross, ‘I work for the FBI. It’s my business to know these things.’

‘Then I need to get rid of you or the number. The number might be easier, but it would give me less satisfaction.’

‘You are aware that threatening a government official of the United States is a felony under law?’

‘Then I’ll go to jail laughing,’ said Louis. ‘You still haven’t told me what you want.’

And Ross said, ‘I want to deliver a warning.’

Chapter XI

The Vuksans and their votaries finished their work shortly before 6 a.m. Radovan had fallen asleep in a chair, and was woken by his brother calling his name. He spotted a scarlet smear on Spiridon’s neck, and guessed that his sibling must have joined in with the persecution of the women at some point. Behind him, Zivco Ilić was carrying a pair of heavy-duty garbage sacks containing the towels and sponges they had brought with them to clean themselves. Radovan also smelled bleach, but under this was blood.

‘Was it worth it?’ Radovan asked.

‘I believe so,’ said Spiridon. ‘De Jaager lasted a long time; the young woman, too. The older one had a weak heart, I think.’

Radovan recalled the red rain from the ceiling. He had eventually moved the kitchen table to avoid the spatter, and the pool of blood on the floor was now startlingly large. It was a wonder any of those in the room above had survived as long as they did, but then the Vuksans’ torturers were skilled at their work.