Torvic nodded. ‘You have my word, Zara, that I’ll tell you everything you need to know to catch him, but . . . ’ he sighed, ‘like me, he has no scruples.’

‘And like my father, he’ll feel my wrath!’

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The sun was just peeping through the clouds, and for the first time, Lance felt alive as if he’d stepped out of a big black hole. Did all that really just happen? he asked himself. The feeling was surreal. He’d just been through an unbelievable experience, akin to his days in the SAS. The hangar – the woman – the violence.

Now he had one final job to do. Pulling into the Police Commissioner’s drive, Lance smiled. It had been a long time since they’d butted heads and this morning’s meeting would be a sweet taste of revenge for all the heartache and misery the Stoneham family had put him through when they helped Rebecca take back custody of Kendall. The first knock at the impressive double oak doors was ignored. The second one resulted in Stoneham hollering, ‘Go away. I have nothing to say.’

Lance grinned. He guessed that Conrad was assuming he was just another reporter, since he’d heard the news of Rebecca’s arrest on the radio. ‘Open up, Conrad. It’s Lance. We need to talk!’

Conrad was nursing a brandy, staring at the photo of Kendall. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes and with his hair unbrushed, he rose from his chair and slowly walked along the hallway. After he opened the door, he walked back to the lounge and sat down. There was not even an acknowledgement of Lance’s presence.

Lance looked around the room, a picture of perfection, but that couldn’t be said for the tired-looking commissioner.

‘What do you want, Lance, because I am sure it’s not to gloat, is it?’

‘Gloat?’

‘Oh, you must have heard about Rebecca? I should think the whole country has, by now.’

Lance stared at the resigned expression on Conrad’s face. ‘Oh, that! Not relevant. I came with a message from Regan.’

Conrad frowned and looked up. ‘What? How do you know Regan?’

Uninvited, Lance took a seat opposite. ‘Where do I start?’ He sighed. ‘I’m not who you think I am, Conrad. I left the armed forces and worked for various people – whoever paid me the most, I guess. Then I was called into the special operations team.’ He paused and waited for a reaction.

Conrad’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight. ‘You? I mean . . . the special operations team?’

Lance slowly nodded. ‘Yep, the project set up to oversee your work, your sloppy work. Please don’t tell me you assumed that your method of dealing with the shit on the street was to hide it from the press, hire the likes of Mike Regan, and thereby hope that your little scheme wouldn’t go unnoticed by those in government?’