could remember that he had ever physically hurt her. ‘Let go of me!’
He opened his hand, and she jerked away, almost tripping as she scurried backwards. ‘Jesus Christ, Eddie! You killed a policeman – you murdered your friend!’
‘That’s not what happened!’ he shouted, starting to follow her.
‘Don’t touch me!’ Nina brought up her hands, balled almost into fists. Eddie stopped as she continued to retreat. ‘Get away from me! I don’t – I don’t even know you any more! What have you
Eddie stayed still, stricken, as the first emergency vehicles reached the dirt road. Leading was a yellow van bearing the gas company’s logo, which tore past and headed for what was left of the pumping station. Behind it was a police car, which screeched to a stop at the roadside. Two cops jumped out, running to the group and drawing their guns. They shouted orders in Spanish.
‘What the fuck’s this?’ Eddie demanded, raising his hands as the men fixed their weapons on him.
Macy translated. ‘Oh, my God. Eddie, they say they’re arresting you for murder!’ She ran to the cops and asked panicked questions in their language, getting brusque responses. ‘The gas company saw you and Kit on the security cameras!’
One of the cops approached Eddie. He gestured for the Englishman to hold out his hands, ready to be cuffed. The other hung back suspiciously, unsure what to make of Nina and Macy and splitting his attention between the three.
‘I didn’t murder him,’ Eddie said – to Nina, not the cops. ‘He was trying to kill me. You’ve got to believe me.’
‘I . . . I don’t know if I can,’ she whispered.
The first cop waved his gun impatiently. Eddie gave Nina a long, saddened look, then held out his wrists. The cop fumbled one-handed for his handcuffs, glancing down as they caught on his belt—
And was sent reeling as Eddie’s fist crashed against his jaw, his other hand wrenching the pistol from his grip.
The second cop hurriedly brought up his gun – but found his partner between him and their intended prisoner. He hesitated, then clumsily sidestepped to get a clean line of fire—
A single gunshot, and the second cop’s weapon spun away with a crack. He screamed and clutched his hand. Eddie’s bullet had shattered on impact with the pistol’s harder steel, sending shards of metal spearing into his flesh.
‘Tell ’em not to move,’ Eddie barked to Macy as he rounded the two men, smoking gun covering them, and headed for their car.
‘Uh . . . I think they figured that out for themselves,’ she said, shocked.
Nina was stunned, struggling to take in the latest turn of events. ‘Eddie, what the hell?’
‘Kit killed Mac, and he tried to kill me,’ said Eddie, reaching the car. Its engine was still running. ‘He was working with Stikes,
And with that the car peeled away, swinging across the central divider and heading at high speed back north, leaving the overwhelmed Nina behind.
Epilogue
England
The last time Eddie saw the English Channel, it had been a brilliant blue beneath a sunny sky. Today, though, the sea beyond the harbour entrance was as grey and leaden as the thick clouds overhead, a stiff breeze stirring up whitecaps.
He watched as a boat slowly approached the quay. The white motor yacht had left Poole Harbour an hour earlier, heading a few miles out to sea on its short, solemn voyage. Its screws reversed, churning up white foam, and it came to a stop at the quayside. A crewman quickly tied it up, then positioned a gangplank so the passengers could disembark.
Eddie counted a dozen, all dressed in mourning black. Most he didn’t recognise; elderly people, friends of his grandmother’s. But four he knew. His sister, his niece . . . and his father, accompanied by Julie.
He checked that nobody nearby was paying him any undue attention, then left the doorway in which he was waiting and crossed to the quayside to meet the group as they came ashore. Holly was the first to see him, crying out ‘Uncle Eddie!’ in a mix of surprise and shock. Even after several days, his bruised face still bore witness to the beatings he had suffered in South America.
‘Hi, Holly,’ he said. ‘Lizzie. Julie.’ He deliberately didn’t acknowledge his father . . . yet.
Elizabeth was just as startled as her daughter, though far less enthused. ‘Eddie, what the hell are you doing here? The police came round – they told us to tell them if we heard from you. They said you killed someone!’
‘I came to say goodbye to Nan.’ Elizabeth was holding an empty cremation urn, the family having carried out Nan’s wish to have her ashes scattered at sea. ‘Was it a good service?’
‘As far as any service can be said to be good, yes,’ said Elizabeth tightly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Eddie told her. ‘I wish I could have seen her before . . . before. You know.’ Holly, red-eyed, tried to stifle a sniff as new tears welled. ‘I should have been there. But . . .’
‘But you were busy,’ said Larry. ‘More important things to do.’ Sarcasm entered his voice. ‘Saving the world, no doubt.’
Eddie rounded on him, fists clenched. ‘No, I was watching a friend die.’ He looked at Elizabeth and Holly. ‘Mac. Jim McCrimmon, you remember him?’ Both women reacted in dismay. ‘He was murdered, shot in the back.’
