The Cult of Osiris

disintegrate into razor splinters of carbon fibre as it scraped against the roadside crash barrier. He battled with the steering wheel, ignoring the battery of furiously flashing warning lights on it as he struggled to stay in a straight line.

Back into two-way traffic as he joined the Avenue d’Ostende and descended the hill towards the harbour, but being able to go with the flow was little help as this road was even busier. The back end of a Range Rover loomed: he braked, sliding forward as the wheels locked up. The engine threatened to stall, and he pushed the accelerator again.

Too hard.

The car lunged, cracking his head another blow. The other side of the front wing shattered against the Range Rover’s rear wheel, shards stabbing into the rubber.

Eddie swerved away as the big 4?4’s tyre exploded and it crashed down on its alloy wheel rim. ‘Sorry!’

But the broken chunks of carbon fibre had also damaged his own tyre, the front wheel shuddering as he steered round another car. He was losing what little control he had.

And he could hear something else over the engine’s scream - sirens. The police were coming. It wouldn’t exactly be hard for them to pick out his car from the rest of the vehicles.

He had to get to the harbour before they caught him.

The other cars almost blocked his view of the road ahead, but he could see enough to tell that he was coming to the bottom of the hill. Which, he remembered from past races on TV, was the location of the first turn after the start.

A sharp turn.

‘Oh, shit,’ he gasped. Even in first gear, he was doing close to fifty miles an hour as he zigzagged through the traffic towards the Saint Devote corner. And the corner itself was busy, a complex intersection in its everyday guise.

He saw what he hoped was a clear line, aimed for it . . .

With a whap! of escaping high-pressure nitrogen, the damaged front tyre sloughed off the wheel rim.

The car spun out, sliding almost sideways before the back wheel bashed against a Ferrari, sending Eddie’s vehicle into a mad pirouette through the junction. The world was a blur - but he could make out a crash barrier getting closer with each revolution.

He braced himself—

The car crashed sidelong into the barrier, impact-absorbing sections of bodywork crushing flat. Still spinning, scattering debris, it bounced back out into the junction. Cars swerved to avoid the whirling wreck. A large van skidded, heading straight for Eddie’s car . . .

Both vehicles stopped at the same time - with the racing car’s nose wedged under the van’s front bumper.

Groaning, Eddie sat up. His shoulder felt as though it had taken a hit with a baseball bat where he had been flung against the cockpit’s edge. But the car’s safety features had done their job: he would be able to walk away from the crash.

Or stagger, at least. Head spinning, he clambered out and got his bearings. The long arc of the start/finish stretch led away to the south. Towards the harbour.

‘C’est James Bond!’ someone called. Eddie realised he had already attracted a crowd - considering that a man in a tuxedo had just wrecked a racing car in the middle of Monaco, that was hardly surprising.

The Ferrari’s driver stared in horror at the huge dent in its side. ‘Send the bill to Team Osiris!’ Eddie called before jogging to the nearest gap in the barriers. He pushed through the gawkers, disappearing into the crowd as the first police car arrived.

‘He crashed it?’ Osir said, appalled. Shaban had just phoned him with a report. ‘Did you find him?’ The reply was negative. ‘Then did the police catch him, at least?’ An identical response. ‘Well, that’s marvellous!’

Nina had to fight to conceal her jubilation. ‘That man destroys everything he touches,’ she sneered instead. ‘Relationships, lives . . . racecars . . .’

‘I can see why you want to be rid of him,’ he muttered, before turning his attention back to the phone. ‘I’m going back to the Solar Barque. Yes, with Dr Wilde. No, I - Sebak, I do not want to hear this again. Get as many people as you can. The police will be looking for him as well, so monitor their radios. I want him found.’ He listened to Shaban. ‘Only if absolutely necessary - I don’t want any more trouble with the authorities, not tonight. Capture him and take him to the yacht.’

‘You’re not going to kill him?’ Nina asked as he ended the call.

Osir gestured at the wreckage of the party. ‘This will be hard enough to explain. The last thing I need is to turn on the TV and see a news bulletin about Sebak being arrested for your husband’s murder!’

‘So what are you going to do with Eddie when you find him?’

‘The Mediterranean is very big, and very deep.’

‘Ah . . . great. That’ll save me having to pay for a divorce lawyer.’

Osir laughed coldly. ‘Well, I think the party is over. I don’t know if the zodiac will be ready yet, but we may as well find out. Give me a few minutes to say my goodbyes.’

He moved to speak to a group of people nearby, as full of bonhomie as if a switch had been flipped. Nina took the opportunity to go to the doorway. She saw Macy amongst the onlookers and waved her closer.

‘Where’s Eddie?’ Macy asked. ‘Is he okay?’

‘For now - he got away. In a racecar.’

Macy smiled. ‘You know, your husband’s a pretty awesome guy.’

‘Yeah, I like to think so.’ She looked back into the courtyard. Osir was still engaged in conversation. ‘Look, this might sound weird, but this is probably the safest place for you to be. Shaban and his buddy are out looking for Eddie, and Osir’s about to take me back to the yacht to see the zodiac.’

‘That’s great, but what am I supposed to do when this place closes? I won’t be able to get a hotel room even if there are any left - Eddie’s got my passport!’

‘That’s not exactly my biggest worry right now, Macy.’ Another glance back; Osir was looking for her. ‘You’ll figure something out. I’ve got to go, though. If Eddie or I can’t get in touch with you, there’s a hotel across the square - wait in the lobby, and we’ll find you.’

Macy was unhappy with the situation, but nodded. ‘Good luck, Dr Wilde. Stay safe.’

‘You too.’ Nina backed into the courtyard and went to Osir. ‘Are you ready to go?’

‘The car is coming to take us back to the harbour.’ He put on a smile for the benefit of his other companions. ‘It will have to take the long way round - it seems there has been a traffic incident at Saint Devote!’ The joke raised some gallows laughter.

Taking Nina by the arm, he went back into the casino. As the attendants backed away to let them through, Macy slipped into the courtyard, moving hurriedly away from the doors before the casino staff spotted her. The party was winding down now that its main attraction had disappeared in a cloud of tyre smoke.

Macy spotted another attraction, though: a handsome blond man in racing overalls, talking agitatedly to a couple of older guys. Guessing he was the driver, she trotted over. ‘What happened?’

Virtanen gave her a brief glance - then did a double-take as he registered that she was a young and beautiful woman who wasn’t surgically attached to the arm of a middle-aged team sponsor. ‘It was terrible,’ he said mournfully. ‘I was carjacked - a man with a gun! I tried to stop him, but he got away.’ His companions rolled their eyes, but said nothing to contradict the star of the team.

‘My God! Are you okay?’

‘Just a few bruises. I’ll still be able to race tomorrow, for sure. But I think I’ll go back to my hotel now. Unless,’ a suggestive grin, ‘you would like to share a drink with me first?’

Macy gave him a perfect smile. ‘I think I would.’

17

In the dark, Monaco’s waterfront looked like an extension of the city itself, ranks of