Trying to get from the middle of Manhattan out to Long Island, by four-wheel transport, towards the close of the afternoon, will not put you in the running for any official land-speed records. I did my best, but as I sat and cursed in traffic, I mourned the demise of the Buell all over again.

Meanwhile, the clock ticked round to 7 p.m.

Thirty-three hours.

Finally, I reached the Willners’ driveway. And as I braked hard and swung the Navigator through the entrance, I nearly sent the four security people stationed there into group cardiac arrest. As one, right hands dived inside jackets. I made sure I kept both mine well in view as I came to a more moderate halt on the gravel.

It was only then that I recognised a couple of the guys as Gleason’s men. Or rather – Eisenberg’s.

What the?

I got out slowly, making no overtly threatening moves. They recognised me soon enough not to slot me, which would have put the capping piece on a thoroughly shitty day.

I nodded to them as they relaxed back into hyped alertness, and jogged up the steps, aware that things were probably not about to get any better.

Parker was waiting in the open-plan living area, with both Brandon and Nicola Eisenberg occupying one sofa, and Caroline Willner in her usual high-backed chair. Nicola Eisenberg’s own personal bodyguard was hovering discreetly nearby with Gleason. Landers was in the far corner, out of direct line of the windows, watching all the exits. Not that we were expecting a direct attack, but it was the kind of ingrained behaviour Parker paid him for.

Through the glass, clouds were gathering darkened over the ocean, and the sun had begun a spectacular dying fall in the western sky, leaving a trail of streaks and sorrow.

Nobody was watching the sunset.

Parker was standing alongside Caroline Willner’s chair, as if providing support on a proximity basis alone. His lean face was tired, but there was more to it than that, and with a jolt I recognised it as defeat. He had the look of a field commander fresh from a bloody skirmish, who had never expected to lose the troops under him.

‘What’s happened?’ I demanded.

Parker hesitated a moment and glanced at Caroline Willner. She caught the gesture.

‘Go on, Mr Armstrong.’ She gave a slightly mechanical nod. ‘Please, say what needs to be said.’ She was deathly pale, but holding.

Parker stepped over to a side table. On it was an untidy cardboard package, sliced open. He pulled a latex glove out of his pocket and used that, folded over, to hold the box out to me. I checked the set faces, staring with varying degrees of horror and sympathy. Then Nicola Eisenberg averted her head, trying to make it look as if she were merely leaning her chin on her fist, resting on the arm of the sofa, rather than covering her mouth. Gleason had me under observation on a near-molecular level.

I leant forwards, and looked in the box.

Nestling inside was not the finger I’d been half expecting. Instead, it was a small bluish-white rubbery triangle, two edges smoothly rounded, and the last ragged and stained with dark flecks. It would have been hard to identify as part of a human body, were it not for the piercing through the lobe of what had once clearly been the lower half of a left ear.

One of the pearl drop earrings that Dina had inherited from her grandmother was still studded through it.

I swallowed, forced myself to be objective, rational, and channelled all the revulsion into a bright flame of rage. When I looked up, my gaze was as cold and empty as I could contrive.

‘When did this arrive?’ I asked. ‘And who delivered it?’

‘It came not long before I called you,’ Parker said tightly. ‘We already checked. Local courier company, pickup from the lobby of an apparently random apartment block, delivery instructions left with the package, cash in an envelope.’

A dead end, in other words. Still, discovering that much in the time it had taken me to battle with traffic was fast work.

I looked at Parker and saw he was waiting for me to ask the next question – the obvious question – the way you wait for someone to flinch.

‘So, was it cut off when she was still alive?’ I lifted my chin. ‘Or after she was dead?’

Over to my left, I heard Nicola Eisenberg suck in a harsh breath. ‘My God,’ she murmured, ‘you’re one hard- faced bitch …’

Well, it takes one to know one.

I might have voiced that opinion out loud, but Parker silenced her with a single, lethal stare. ‘There’s a forensic pathologist on his way now,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘I called in a favour. He should be able to tell us how long it’s been … severed, and under what circumstances.’

He put it so much more diplomatically than I had, which is why he was the boss.

‘We need to know quickly – before we go any further negotiating their demands.’ My God, they’ve had her less than two days and already they’re hacking bits off.

I didn’t need to see the anguish in Parker’s eyes to know the same thought had passed through his mind.

Brandon Eisenberg cleared his throat. ‘I have suggested to Mrs Willner that I be permitted to make a substantial contribution to Dina’s ransom.’ His wife shot him a poisonous glare, gave his arm an unsubtle jab. ‘Pay it, is basically what I’m saying,’ he added flatly.

Well, that answered the question of whether Nicola Eisenberg knew about his attempt to cheat her son’s kidnappers with the Rainbow replica. I remembered again that she’d collapsed shortly after the ransom drop had gone so badly awry. Was that when she found out?

Caroline Willner, meanwhile, had come stiffly upright in her chair, no mean feat when she already looked racked tight enough to crack her bones. She made to speak, but Nicola Eisenberg flashed a palm in warning.

‘No. We will do this,’ she said ominously. ‘For Torquil, as much as for Dina.’

She looked about to expand on that theme, but Eisenberg diverted her. ‘We can argue about the details later,’ he said, brusque when Caroline Willner herself would have baulked further. ‘For now, let’s just concentrate on getting your daughter home safe and sound, hmm?’

He had the air of a man who was approached by people constantly for handouts and found all these polite ‘oh, no, I couldn’t possibly’ coy protestations rather irksome.

Caroline Willner must have sensed this. She paused a moment as if to collect herself, then said simply, ‘Thank you.’

He nodded a couple of times, not making eye contact, but his linked hands flexed briefly in his lap.

Nicola Eisenberg gave a grim and bitter little half smile. Regardless of the fact that Torquil had almost undoubtedly been dead before we could have reached him, ransom paid or not, I realised she now had a stick to beat her husband with to the end of his days. I wondered if she would ever feel it was worth the price.

For the moment, however, the new-found power had its compensations. She rose, graceful in victory. Eisenberg automatically followed suit, as if either staying or going held no great appeal.

‘What do the authorities say about all this?’ I asked, looking around at them. Suddenly, nobody wanted to meet my eyes. I jerked a hand towards the box with its grisly contents. ‘How have you managed to keep that away from them?’

‘We are not without considerable influence in government,’ Nicola Eisenberg said, as if that answered everything. ‘We’ll take our leave.’ She bent to exchange distant air kisses on both cheeks with her hostess. She shook hands with Parker, covering both his with her own. ‘Do let us know as soon as you need the money.’ Her eyes slid sideways in the direction of her husband, half a pace behind. ‘It will be available immediately.’

‘Thank you,’ Parker said neutrally, disengaging himself. ‘I’m sure we’ll speak soon.’

I didn’t merit a handshake, just a vague smile as the entourage headed for the door. Gleason gave me a cool nod in passing, though, which was the equivalent of a high five and a bear hug in this business.

When they’d gone, Caroline Willner got slowly to her feet, as if suddenly feeling her bones, and stood with one hand resting on the back of her chair.

‘I believe Mr Armstrong has something important to tell you, Charlie,’ she said gravely.

A muscle jumped in the side of Parker’s jaw. ‘It can wait.’

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