would eat the food, drink some of the water and then return to his dozing.

He missed his associate. Missed the runs up in the hills and the days out on the boat, when he got to gulp down endless quantities of fresh fish.

But today felt different.

There was a vibe. He felt excited. Every few minutes, after he woke from his doze, he’d pad around the inside of his home, then go outside for a few moments into the hot sunlight, then back to the shade.

He was just dozing off once more when he heard the sound of the front door opening.

It was a different sound from the one the woman made. This was a sound he recognized. His tail began to wag. Then he jumped to his feet and ran to the door, barking excitedly.

His associate was home.

His associate stroked him and made some nice sounds.

‘Hey, good to see you, boy. How’ve you been?’

His associate put his case down and opened it, then took out a small white plastic bag. He walked over to the empty food bowl on the floor, in the shade, near the patio door.

‘Bought you a treat!’ he said. ‘A special delicacy, all the way from New York. How about that?’

Yossarian stared at his associate expectantly. Then he looked down at his bowl. Two small oval shapes dropped into it with a soft thud, thud. He wolfed them down, then stared at his associate again, wanting more.

Tooth shook his head. He didn’t do quantity.

He did quality.

115

The office of the Yacht-Club Rheindelta was a small white wooden building on the edge of the vast Bodensee. They were taking a week’s vacation and she thought it would be fun if they did a dinghy-sailing course together. He had been really keen when she had mooted the idea.

The fit-looking young German manager behind the counter was pleasant and helpful.

‘So, do you have any sailing experience?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, my – my ex-husband was very keen. We used to sail a bit in England – off the south coast around Brighton. And we did a flotilla sailing holiday in small yachts in Greece once.’

‘Good.’ He smiled, and started to fill in a form on a clipboard. ‘So, first the young man. He is how old, please?’

‘He’ll be ten, next birthday.’

‘Which is when?’

‘March, next year.’

The German manager smiled at the boy. ‘So you have your father’s sailing genes, perhaps?’

‘Oh, he has a lot of his father’s genes, don’t you?’ she said, looking at her son.

He shrugged. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never met him.’

The smile momentarily changed to a frown on the manager’s face, then he said, ‘OK. So if I may have the young man’s full name, please.’

She wrote down Bruno Lohmann and handed him the form back.

‘Sorry, I need the full name. Does Bruno have a second name, perhaps?’

Sandy smiled apologetically. ‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

She turned the form back around and in the space provided in the middle she wrote, Roy.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I try hard to get my facts right in every book. Most of the places named here are real, but just occasionally I’ve needed to make a street or a house number fictitious. The glorious house in the Hamptons is real, too, and it does have a bowling alley in the basement! But I should point out it is not owned by a crime family, but by the very delightful Jack and June Rivkin, who graciously allowed it to be the model for the Reveres’ home in my story.

I owe huge thanks to very many people who so kindly and patiently put up with my endless questions and give me so much of their time. Most of all I owe an incalculable debt to Sussex Police. My first thank-you is to the Chief Constable, Martin Richards, QPM, not just for his kind sanction, but for the very active interest he has taken in my Roy Grace novels and the numerous helpful observations and suggestions he has made.

Roy Grace is inspired by a real-life character, former Detective Chief Superintendent David Gaylor of Sussex CID, my close friend and tireless fountain of wisdom, who helps me to ensure that Roy Grace thinks the way a sharp detective would, and to shape my books in so many ways.

Chief Superintendent Graham Bartlett, Commander of Brighton and Hove Police, has also been immensely helpful on this book, even taking my calls and responding with great creative suggestions while out on training runs for the Brighton Marathon! Chief Inspector Steve Curry and Inspector Jason Tingley have both been hugely helpful in so many ways, too. As have Detective Superintendent Andy Griffiths; DCI Nick Sloan; DCI Trevor Bowles; Senior Support Officer Tony Case; Inspector Gary Medland of Gatwick Police; DI William Warner; Sgt Phil Taylor; Ray Packham and Dave Reed of the High-Tech Crime Unit; Inspector James Biggs; Sgt Mel Doyle; Sgt Paul Wood; PC Tony Omotoso; PC Ian Upperton and PC Dan Pattenden of the Road Policing Unit; Sgt Lorna Dennison-Wilkins and the team at the Specialist Search Unit – especially Critch, for his amazing bacon butties! – Chris Heaver; Martin Bloomfield; Sue Heard, Press and PR Officer; and Neil (Nobby) Hall, former Assistant Commissioner of Police for the Turks and Caicos.

Exceptional thanks are due to Colin O’Neill of the Road Collision Unit for helping so much with the details of the tragic fatal accident in the story.

Very special thanks also to the NYPD, to Detective Investigator Patrick Lanigan, Special Investigations Unit, Officer of the District Attorney, and to retired Detective Investigator Dennis Bootle, for their exceptional help and generosity of spirit.

A huge and very special thank-you to Ashley Carter for being the role model for Tyler Chase, and for so enthusiastically helping me on so many aspects of his character, and to his mum, Helene, for allowing me to roam their home.

And as always I owe massive thanks to Sean Didcott at Brighton and Hove Mortuary. Also to Dr Nigel Kirkham, consultant pathologist, Newcastle; Crime Scene Manager Tracy Stocker and Scene of Crime Officer James Gartrell; fingerprint analyst Sam Kennor; forensic archaeologist Lucy Sibun and forensic pathologist Dr Benjamin Swift; Michele Websdale of the UK Border Agency; Sharon Williams, Governor of Ford Prison; and Deputy Governors Lisa Setterington and Jackie Jefcut. And thanks to my terrific researchers, Tracey Connolly and Tara Lester, as well as Nicky Mitchell, and Sian and Richard Laurie for sharing the world and perspectives of pregnancy with me.

Thanks also to Juliet Smith, Chief Magistrate of Brighton and Hove; Michael Beard, Editor, the Argus; BA captain Wayne Schofield; Judith Richards and the staff of St Christopher’s School; Dave Phillips and Vicky Seal from the South East Coast Ambulance Service; Consultant Obstetrician Des Holden; Les Jones; Rob Kempson; Sheila Catt at Brighton District Probate Registry; Mar Dixon; Danielle Newson; Hans Jurgen Stockerl; Sam Brennan; Mark Tuckwell; and David Crouch of the Press Office Toyota (GB) plc.

Shoreham Harbour, one of my favourite parts of the city, features prominently through the book and I’m immensely grateful to Rodney Lunn, CEO, Chief Engineer Tony Parker and Deputy Chief Engineer Keith Wadey. As someone who, like Roy Grace, is both scared of heights and claustrophobic, I’m also indebted to David Seel, James Seel and Barry Wade of Rescue and Emergency Medical Services for coaxing me all the way down that 200-foot sheer descent into the tunnel beneath the harbour, and to Keith Carter and Colin Dobson of Scottish Power for giving me such a great tour and information about Shoreham Power Station.

Thanks as ever to Chris Webb of MacService, who has unlimited patience, for ensuring my Mac knows who is

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