Ben locked the Mercedes and tossed Monty the keys. Then they turned and started walking in the direction Monty had pointed. He walked five paces behind, still holding the pistol and shining a small torch whose beam showed the way. They headed down a crumbly stone path that wound to the quarry’s edge, where a plain Ford panel van was hidden behind a stack of huge limestone boulders. Monty blipped the locks and said, ‘Now, if you’d be so good as to get in the back, we can be on our way.’

The van’s twin rear doors were plain metal with no windows. Ben yanked on the handle and opened up the back. A dim light came on inside, showing the thick plywood sheets attached to the interior.

Grace looked at Ben and shook her head. ‘You’ve got to be shitting me.’

‘Come on,’ Ben said softly. He helped her into the van, then climbed in after her. The only seating in the rear cargo area was the hard metal humps of the wheel arches, one on each side. Monty closed the door and locked it. They heard his footsteps crunching on the rocky path, then the sound of the driver’s door opening. As the engine rasped into life, the interior light went out and they were in pitch blackness.

‘What is this?’ Grace hissed. ‘Are we being kidnapped?’

‘No, it’s just the cost of doing business,’ Ben replied. ‘If we want what he has to offer, it’s got to be on his terms. Quid pro quo.’

‘With a gun pointed at us.’

‘I don’t blame him for being careful. I’d have done it just the same way, in his position.’

The van bumped and rocked and creaked as it made its way back along the rough track from the quarry. There was little for the rear passengers to hang onto to prevent themselves from getting tossed around, but it wasn’t long before the van reached the road and the ride smoothed out.

The drive lasted just fifteen minutes. After a series of twists and turns the van lurched up an incline that felt like a driveway. The engine sound became echoey as they entered an enclosed building, like a garage, then died. Ben heard the whirr and scrape of the electric garage door closing behind them. Their host climbed out from behind the wheel. Footsteps walked up the side of the van.

Ben said, ‘Try to be nice, okay? Stay focused on our purpose for being here.’

‘As long as he doesn’t point that gun at us again. I could have him banged up just for owning it.’

Then the back doors opened, and the plywood interior filled with light.