A thousand emotions rushed together in Ben’s heart and he embraced his dear old friend so tightly that he realised he was crushing him. Boonzie might have still been as strong as an ox and dangerous as a leopard, but he felt thin and frail after his confinement.

‘It’s good to see you, Boonzie. You had me a little worried.’

‘Damn guid thing I recognised ye when I did, laddie,’ Boonzie rasped. ‘I might’ve kilt ye, thinkin’ ye wiz one o’ them murderin’ basturts.’

‘You’ll be pleased to hear there’s a few less of them now.’ Ben stepped over to the shelving unit and took down the lantern he’d been about to grab when Boonzie had surprised him. He turned it on but kept it angled away from the window in case anyone saw the light.

Boonzie did appear leaner, and older, than when Ben had last seen him. His cheeks were hollow and more deeply etched with lines, and his hair was whiter and thinner. His clothes were torn and soiled from the dungeon and the crawl through the pipe. He looked like he’d been through hell. But he was the same old Boonzie, as tough and sour and mean and indefatigable as ever, with a twinkle in his eye that no force on earth could quite extinguish.

‘What in the name o’ jumpin’ Jesus are ye doin’ here, Ben?’

‘Mirella sent me to find you. She was getting a little concerned, too.’

Boonzie’s expression crumpled into a look of agonised emotion at the mention of her name. Maybe some forces on earth could extinguish the twinkle after all. ‘Is she okay? When did ye last speak tae her? That piece o’ shite Hacker said he wiz gonnae hurt her. If anythin’ happened tae that woman—’

Ben shook his head and assured him, ‘Not going to happen. She went to stay with her brother in Rome. She’s safe. Out of her mind with worry, but safe.’ Remembering that he had Carter’s and Banks’s phones in his pocket, he fished one out and offered it to Boonzie. ‘You should let her know you’re okay.’

Boonzie’s shoulders sagged with relief. He gazed at the phone and seemed about to take it, then hesitated and shook his head. ‘Aye, I should. But somethin’ tells me we’re no oot o’ the woods yet, laddie. Mebbe that’s one conversation that can wait.’

They sat on the floor of the hut with the lantern light between them, and Ben quickly filled Boonzie in on the events of the last few days. Mirella’s call; his encounters with Stuart’s local heavies and Hacker’s associates; the fate of Jamie McGlashan; Grace Kirk’s involvement; and the historic cache of gold coins whose accidental discovery had sparked this whole affair. Boonzie listened intently with a face of granite, then asked, ‘Have ye seen Ewan? How is he?’