No. She had to go it alone. So in the two hours following the call, she’d engaged in what she hoped was a more constructive solution to her problem. She knew, of course, that the Molloys were planning to kill both her and Jennifer. That much was obvious. But she wasn’t planning to die tonight. And she wasn’t planning on letting Jennifer die either. It was Bailey’s fault that Jennifer was in trouble and she was going to do everything within her power to get her sister out of it. Everything.

Her mind felt weirdly clear and focused. She wasn’t scared as such. Not any more. The fear that had filled her earlier had now disappeared, to be replaced by a cold determination. She’d committed herself to this course of action and she knew there was no turning back.

It was around a quarter to ten when she reached Gravesend, a place she’d never visited before. All she knew was that it was an old maritime town situated on the south bank of the Thames Estuary. Cruising slowly through the quiet, empty streets, she didn’t get the impression it was a particularly wealthy or scenic place. It felt ancient and tough, a personification of all the hard-bitten old seamen who’d passed through it over the centuries.

To her left, as she was driving along, Bailey noticed the River Thames flowing past, black and murky in the night, and on the distant bank, the lights of Tilbury Docks in Essex.

Rick’s building development was located on the edge of town, presumably isolated just enough for whatever the gang were planning. Once again he’d picked an environment that he was in complete control of. She also knew building sites were convenient places to dispose of bodies.

As she drew closer to the development, she slowed the car and killed the headlights, eventually coming to a standstill on a street corner about a hundred metres from the entrance.

She switched off the engine and peered through the windscreen, noting the large hoardings which obscured the building site from public view. Beyond them, she could make out the tall outlines of several cranes and the top of a skeletal, partially constructed apartment block.

Over by the entrance, she saw two of the Molloy thugs in their bulky black leather jackets and beanie hats stamping and blowing into their hands, trying to keep warm on the cold evening. It didn’t look like they’d spotted her. So far, so good.

She was supposed to drive through the entrance, where they would take her in to meet her fate. But she knew if she did that, then she would never leave that building development alive and neither would Jennifer.

Taking a crowbar from where it had been lying on the passenger seat beside her, she stealthily slipped out of the car. Immediately, she was hit by the thick, moist chill of the riverine air rolling in off the Thames. Shivering, she looked down at her watch. It was five minutes to ten. She peered back up at the building development and licked her lips nervously.