I stand outside Wellbeck House, and press the gate code. Thank goodness they haven’t thought to change it. Slowly, slowly, it creaks open. I wait in the shadows praying silently that Miles and Saffron don’t hear. I have bought a gadget that I point towards the house and press. It will clone Saffron’s car keys. I hear a strange clicking sound. I press it and, sure enough, I hear the thunk of Saffron’s car door unlocking. I slip inside her Mercedes into the soft comfort, and intoxicating smell, of fine leather. I fumble in my pockets to find the cheap torch I bought at Asda. Small and neat with a powerful beam. I switch on the engine and press a symbol that I know will open the boot. It begins to rise. I step outside the car.

Not long ago, I initiated a game with Jono. Asking him the worst problems he had encountered. The most confusing. The most difficult to check.

I fumble to the left-hand side of the boot to find the fuse box. It is exactly where Jono told me, when I was pretending to be interested. I need to find the green and red striped wire that triggers the brake alarm, and pull it out. I climb into the boot, pull the top off, and lie flat, squinting down at the wires, torch pointing towards them. I push my face closer and crane my neck to get the best angle. I make a grab at the green and red. It comes away easily.

Nearly there. Time to do the real damage now. I lie beneath the car and fumble behind the front passenger side tyre to find the hydraulic line. I need to find it, and pierce it with the special pliers I have borrowed from Jono without his knowledge. I will return them as soon as I get back to the squat. He will never know they were missing. Now I need to repeat the damage to the other three wheels. The hydraulic lines will leak slowly. At first she won’t realise she has a problem. But some time into her journey, her brakes will fail. Probably when she’s on the motorway. Hands trembling, I pull the pliers from my pocket. This will be the end of Saffron Jackson. This is it. This is my opportunity for wealth and happiness.

188

Miles

You are sleeping like an angel. Lying next to me in your pale blue silk chemise, cherubic mouth slightly open. I can’t sleep. All I can do is think about what my mother has done, giving someone our family hardly knows a motive to kill my wife – the centre of my universe. I am neurotic. Terrified. I do not feel relaxed at any time of day, morning, noon, or night. Whenever you aren’t with me, I have dark thoughts. Strong imaginings of what could be happening to you. Thoughts that make me tremble inside.