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file for the calls. There were another three calls made on this file after Billy had been found.’

      ‘So that makes a connection, does it?’ Sheldon said.

      ‘It does in my mind, because this file finished four months ago. Why would Amelia start calling someone in connection with this file after Billy has made a video?’

      Sheldon held out his hand for the file.

      ‘I’ve not finished,’ Charlie said. He reached in and pulled out the bill. ‘This file is a criminal file. So why has she sent the bill to the police?’ He passed over the piece of paper and let him take in its contents. ‘Why were the police settling bills for petty criminals? I’ve never heard of that before.’

      Sheldon eased out a crick in his neck as he took in the bill, and Charlie could tell that he didn’t know the answer.

      ‘What is the file about?’ Ted said.

      ‘Some wannabe anarchist,’ Charlie said. ‘His mother died and left him money and a house, and so he got a conscience about all the poor people in the world and painted slogans on buildings in the town centre. Political rants. So why were the police so interested in him that they would settle his legal bills for him?’

      Sheldon looked at Charlie, and then at the piece of paper again. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

      ‘Why don’t you go find out?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘There’s the file,’ Charlie said. ‘Take it. And find out who are the two men in suits who visited Amelia at the office and who broke into my apartment.’

      Sheldon reached out for the file and then turned it over in his hand, as if he could find out the answers without opening it.

      ‘What about you?’ Sheldon said eventually.

      ‘I’ll wait for you to come back,’ Charlie said. When Sheldon glanced at Ted, as if to seek his approval, Charlie added, ‘I’ve had a rough day. I just need to have a rest.’

      Ted nodded at Sheldon, who returned a thank you and headed for the door.

      As the sound of Sheldon’s engine grew faint along the street, Ted said, ‘What’s really going on?’

      Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out the video camera, the connection leads hanging from it.

      ‘I don’t know how much time I’ve got, because I’m a target now, and I’m worried about a young woman who came to the firm this week. I don’t know if she is on the killer’s side, but I know that I wanted to help you last night, and I still do.’ He held up the camera. ‘This is the tape.’

      Ted looked at the camera, and then at Charlie, his eyes wide. ‘What about confidentiality?’ Ted said. ‘It was a big thing for you last night, when you were in the pub.’

      ‘I don’t care anymore,’ Charlie said. ‘Amelia is dead. All it would cost me is my career, and right now, that doesn’t bother me.’

      Ted didn’t hesitate. He pulled out the television and plugged in the wires from the camera, taking a few moments to work out how to get the camera onto the right setting. As the screen flickered into life, Ted sat next to Charlie, sitting forward, his fists clenched.

      Charlie had only watched a few seconds of the footage when he had found the camera. It seemed more real now that it was on the big screen. Billy Privett was sitting on a high-backed chair, fidgeting, looking nervous. He glanced towards someone off-camera, Charlie presumed it was Amelia, and then Billy cleared his throat.

      ‘My name is Billy Privett, and I’m going to tell you what happened on the night Alice Kenyon died.’

      As those words came out of the television Ted’s hand went to his eye. Charlie caught the shimmer of a tear, glistening in the light from the screen.

       Chapter Forty-Three

      John heard the van before he saw it. He was still standing in the doorway, looking down the field and towards the road, the shotgun cradled in his arm. The night had slipped into darkness and so all he could see were the outlines of the hill opposite against the light from the moon.

      He looked back into the living room, where Dawn was tied up below the window, a strip of cloth binding her hands, Gemma in front of her, glaring at her. There was blood from a cut on her lip. Gemma had lost patience with Dawn once already.

      Gemma caught him looking and so she gave him an impish wave. It was all a game to her. He waved back without thinking. It felt like events were spinning out of his control, and he didn’t know how to deal with things anymore. What they were doing was wrong, he knew that, but every time he got a smile from Gemma, he felt that skip of new love.

      He stepped outside to wait for Henry’s arrival, to warn them about the traps. As John stood in the glare of the headlights, the van rolled and bounced along the farm track, the engine straining, until it came to a stop in a cloud of dust.

      Arni jumped out of the driver’s seat, Henry following.

      John pointed towards the window. ‘I’ve done my best,’ he said. ‘Barbed wire on the inside. We’ve got petrol bombs, and those,’ and he gestured with the shotgun towards the dark shadow of an animal trap. ‘Watch your step.’

      Henry grinned as he got closer, the whites of his eyes catching whatever shreds of light there were. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said, and then laughed. ‘We’ve gone one better though.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      Then John heard the shouts. Shrieks and then cries of fear, mixed in with anger. Lucy appeared from the back of the van, pulling on someone. It was a woman, young and skinny and dark.

      ‘Look what we caught,’ Lucy said, laughing. ‘Our new pet.’

      ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘This little bitch is our exit strategy,’ Henry said. ‘When they get closer, she will keep them away.’ He strode towards Lucy and grabbed the young woman by the hair. She yelped. As Henry pulled her towards the house, Lucy jumped up and down in excitement, clapping her hands.

      ‘Who is she?’ John asked.

      ‘Donia, she’s called,’ Lucy said, animatedly. ‘And she’s going to have some fun.’

      As they got into the house, Donia trying to pull away, Henry stopped and looked at Dawn. He turned to John. ‘What’s going on?’

      ‘She tried to leave. I caught her. She was heading for the road.’

      ‘And you brought her back?’

      John nodded.

      Henry started to laugh. ‘You are complete, John. Welcome to the flock.’ He whirled the young woman around by her hair, so that she screwed up her face and cried out in pain, and pushed her towards Lucy. ‘Tie her up in there,’ and he gestured towards the old man’s room. ‘We’ll deal with her later.’

      Henry walked towards Dawn and stared down at her for a few seconds. She shrank back, frightened. He smiled, knelt down in front of her, then reached out and ran some of her hair through his fingers. ‘You’ve let me down,’ he said, in a whisper.

      She started to sob again. ‘I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.’

      ‘I knew someone would betray me,’ Henry said, his voice a low hiss. ‘What were your plans? Turn me over to the police? Or just bring them here, so that they could arrest me, perhaps bring a film crew, and so they can have their little show trial? And then what? Lock me away for the rest of my life? Is that what you wanted for me?’

      Dawn hung her head. ‘Please, Henry, I’m sorry. Don’t do it.’

      Henry snarled and stood up quickly. He lashed out with his foot, kicking

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