“What are you doing?”

Gary turned. Lauren stood at Markus’s shoulder, frowning, and Markus took a step forward. He looked so tragic in that moment, so affronted, that Gary almost apologised.

But then he thought about Scott. He remembered how hopeless he’d sounded on the phone: how empty he’d been when they visited him a few days earlier.

“Scott needs this video,” he said.

Markus narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were Scott.”

Ah, dammit. Gary had forgotten about that part.

“He needs it,” Gary repeated. “I’m sorry. But we’re not leaving here without it.”

“Is that a threat?” Markus snapped. “I’ve already explained why I can’t let you have it. She’ll know it came from me. Casey never lets things go. She’ll do things you can’t even imagine. She might even hurt Polly.”

Gary thought of his own children, and he knew Markus had every right to attack him.

But then his hip ached; his knee pulsed. It was like a message from the past. He remembered when those drugged-up psychos had converged on him, their shoes hammering mercilessly into every part of his body. He dreamt of that hot agony for years, the pain shooting up and down his leg, his nerves cramping.

“I’m sorry, mate. I really am.” Gary strode right for the door.

Markus moved to step back at first, but then he looked at Gary’s jacket: at the way Gary was holding the lockbox by cradling it to his body. He yelled and looked like he might spring at Gary, but Gary stared him down…

“Please,” Markus said. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I’ll ring the police.”

“You won’t,” Lauren said softly from hallway, looking ill. “You’d have to explain what was on the hard drive. You’d have to tell the police about Casey. Then we’d tell her you’d been talking to the police.”

Markus grimaced. “You really are a piece of work.”

“I’m sorry.” Gary made for the door. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ringing them!” Markus yelled, his voice chasing them down the hallway. “Just you see! Just you wait!”

Gary and Lauren left the house quickly, and then Gary stopped, leaning against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“We had to,” Lauren said. “Give it here, then.”

“What? Why?” Gary stood.

“I think it’s better if I do it.” Lauren put her hand out. “I can give it to him at school. It’s better not to–”

“It’s not even open yet. I need to get some tools and crack it open. Then we’ll go to Scott. Plus, he’s called in sick for the past week, you told me. What makes you think tomorrow will be any different? And what point is there in waiting? I’ll sort this today, right now. Go home, bust it open, then take it to Scott.”

“But what if Casey’s there?” Lauren asked, seeming way too weirdly keen.

“We want her to be there,” Gary snapped. “That’s the whole point. To show her what we’ve got.”