Up near the top of the huge unfinished apartment block, she saw a sudden small glow – the brief flare of a cigarette being lit. Then it died.

She nodded to herself. So that’s where they were.

Clutching the crowbar and keeping to the shadows out of the thugs’ view, she glided forwards like a ghost in the night.

81

Nancy Molloy snapped her lighter closed, the illumination from the small flame disappearing, her face once again falling back into shadow. She drew deeply on the cigarette, then blew out a long stream of smoke. She looked at her watch. It was five minutes to ten.

She’d wandered away from the rest of the group, leaving the pool of light cast by the lamp to envelop herself in the darkness at the very edge of the floor. Peering down, she saw, far below, the gaping maw of the huge foundation pit that would form the basis for the second of the two blocks that were being built here. The excavation was so deep that she couldn’t even see the bottom of it, just the thrusting tops of the giant steel piles that had been driven into the ground at its base.

This gigantic dark hole was where they’d dispose of the bodies of Bailey and Jennifer, covering them this very evening with a layer of quick-setting concrete. The professional young couples and starter families who would eventually live in these apartments would have no idea that beneath their feet, encased in concrete, deep within the foundations of this place, were the bodies of the two sisters.

Surveying the rest of the building site, Nancy could make out the tiny figures of her men standing over by the entrance to the development. Once Bailey arrived, they would radio Shane to let him know, then they’d take her from her car, check her for a wire and any weapons and bring her up here where the enjoyment would begin. The thought of it sent an anticipatory tingle of pleasure through Nancy.

She finished smoking the cigarette and flicked it over the edge, watching the glowing butt tumble down and disappear into the murk below.

She looked at her watch. It was ten o’clock exactly.

She turned and walked back to the group.

‘Where is that fucking bitch?’ said Rick, looking at his watch. ‘She’s late.’

‘No, I think you’ll find she’s exactly on time,’ said a voice behind them.

82

They all spun round sharply. Bailey stepped out of the gloom by the top of the bare concrete stairwell to enter the tract of light radiating from the industrial lamp. She stopped and stood with her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

Panicked, wary looks flickered between them. This hadn’t been part of the plan. Instantly, several of the thugs raised their sawn-off shotguns at her. Among them, Bailey recognised the bald-headed bearded one she’d punched in the restaurant. He was now wearing a large white plaster across his nose. He wasn’t taking any chances with her now, his piggy eyes narrowing suspiciously as he levelled the stubby barrels of the shotgun directly at her head.