Boonzie did not hesitate in his reply. ‘I’m goantae find them. Make them confess. Hurt them back for what they’ve done. And then I’m goantae put them six feet below the groond, where they belong.’

McGlashan swallowed hard and glanced at the crossbow. ‘No, I meant, what aboot me?’

Boonzie shook his head. ‘I’m not an animal, son. Ye’ve played fair wi’ me an’ I willnae hurt ye. Go home.’

The poacher’s eyes filled with tears of relief and he looked as though he was about to cry. ‘Mr McCulloch?’

‘Aye?’

‘I’m so sorry aboot what happened to Ewan. I tried to warn him.’

‘I ken ye did, son. And I appreciate it.’

‘I hope he’s goin’ to be okay.’

Boonzie nodded gravely. ‘Thanks, son. You take care, noo.’

‘I will.’

‘But if ye want my advice, get as far away frae this place as ye can. All hell’s aboot tae break loose.’

And then Boonzie pushed open the car door, stepped out into the night and was gone.

Chapter 24

Just a few hours after Boonzie McCulloch had talked to the poacher, another face-to-face conversation was about to take place.

The man who had been summoned to the big house was called Carl Hacker. He hadn’t been given a lot of notice and had been over 5,000 miles away when he’d received his instructions that his employer’s personal G5 jet was waiting to fly him back to Scotland immediately. The silver Rolls Royce Cullinan had picked him up from Glasgow International just after dawn and whisked him, smooth and fast, to the magnificent two-thousand-acre property 150 miles north of the city.

The splendid castle was in fact a relatively modern construction, built in mock-eighteenth-century style to the exact specifications of its owner. It stood majestically nestled at the foot of a mountain, with panoramic south-facing views of a country estate that stretched as far as the eye could see. Hacker’s employer had various other residences, including a villa in the Bahamas, a luxury apartment in Monte Carlo and a small chateau in Brittany, where he believed his family to have originated; but he considered the castle his home and spent nearly all his time there. It comprised more than enough bedrooms for Hacker to have been allocated his own personal quarters on the first floor, though his international travel commitments gave him little chance to use them.

Hacker made his way through the stately corridors and up a sweeping staircase to the third-floor study. If he was jetlagged from his long journey, he didn’t show it. He was a man of great composure, whose face never betrayed what was going on in his mind. Physically he was tall and lean and looked younger than his forty-one years, his buzz-cut brown hair just beginning to silver at the temples. He wore an immaculate dark suit whose cut accentuated his broad shoulders, tapered torso and narrow waist.