LITMIR.BIZ

      PROLOGUE

      ‘IT’S over.’

      For a moment he didn’t move, just stood there and let it sink in. Then he turned slowly round and scanned her face.

      ‘They’ve got him?’

      Ruth nodded. ‘They caught up with him in a villa just outside Antibes. He’d got sloppy—maybe he thought we’d given up.’

      He grunted. ‘Fat chance after what that bastard’s done. So he’s finally going to be put away—well, I hope they throw the book at him. They will if I have anything to do with it. Never mind the other things he’s done and the countless lives he’s ruined, that animal owes me nine years.’

      Ruth—his researcher and friend, his ex-colleague and the woman who’d kept him sane for all that time—shook her head. ‘Sorry, Michael. He’s dead.’

      He swore quietly and succinctly and with considerable feeling. ‘What happened?’

      ‘There was a girl there with him. Frank didn’t say what he’d done to her, but I’m sure we can fill in the details. She shot him after they stormed the house—they were cuffing him, and she just shot him through the head with his own gun at point-blank range. Said he deserved it.’

      ‘Is that the official version?’

      Ruth shook her head and smiled. ‘Oh, no. I gather his gun went off in the confusion. Conveniently.’

      He nodded, glad the girl wouldn’t be punished for what amounted to a public service. ‘Good for her,’ he said softly. ‘I would have liked ten minutes alone with him, though, before she did it.’

      ‘Absolutely. You and all the others. It was too good for him, but whatever. It’s over—that’s all that matters really.’

      It was. And that meant they’d all be safe—him, Ruth, Annie and the son he had yet to get to know. The threat hanging over them was gone, finally, after all these years.

      And now it was time for the last act.

      He felt the rush of adrenaline, the nerves, the anticipation—like the start of an operation, but worse, because he was personally involved in this one. It wasn’t something he could remain detached about. No way.

      ‘What about the others?’ he asked, his voice rough—rougher even than usual, rusty with emotion and lack of use.

      ‘They were picking them up when Frank rang me. They’ve been closing in for days, had everyone under surveillance. They did a dawn swoop. It’s massive. It’ll be on the news.’

      ‘So it’s official?’

      Ruth nodded. ‘Yes—just about. I expect someone will come and see you. Frank rang me this morning—I’m surprised he hasn’t called you.’

      ‘He may

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