‘I’m not in trouble,’ I murmur, shoving the issue back in its box. ‘I’m in paradise.’
The hours pass by in bliss, making love, sometimes with the rope, sometimes without. At some point, we pause for lunch. And then we’re straight back down to the nitty-gritty. By the time we curl up in each other’s arms, too exhausted to carry on any more, I’ve no idea what time it is. I’m drifting off to sleep when there’s a knock at the door. I jolt awake.
‘Yes?’ Dan calls out.
Gordon pokes his head into the room.
‘Wakey-wakey, sleepy heads. It’s time.’
As quickly as he appears, he’s gone again, leaving me to wince with embarrassment at the sudden realisation that he’s been with us in the suite all along. I can only hope he hasn’t heard any of my frenzied howls, or squeaks of delight.
‘Time for what?’ I ask.
‘You’ll find out.’
Dan’s already up, tugging on his jeans. He pulls back the curtain and draws it again, giving me just enough time to realise it’s already dark outside. I watch as he takes a couple of pills and slips on his T-shirt.
‘A word of advice.’ He gives me a peck on the lips. ‘You’ll need clothes for this.’
Leaving me no clearer on the matter, he disappears from the room. I haul myself out of bed, locate yesterday’s dress and tidy my hair. As soon as I’ve transformed myself into something vaguely presentable, I venture out of the bedroom and wander through to the drawing room … straight into a gathering of the Maya Scotton Protection Society.
They’ve both got their backs to me, but Bill and Clive are unmistakable. Seated together on one of the plush gold sofas, they’re busy talking to each other while Gordon’s over at the far side of the room, methodically working his way through the drawers of a writing bureau. And then there’s Dan, standing in a corner, deep in conversation with a stranger, the only man in a suit. Everyone else is dressed casually. I home in on my fiancé, sidling up and earwigging the conversation, picking up an occasional word or phrase: ‘increased presence’, ‘round the clock’, ‘no expense spared’.
I’d ask them what’s going on, but Clive’s in front of me now. Somehow, in spite of my silent entrance, he’s noticed. And somehow, in spite of his fight with Boyd, there’s not a mark on him.
‘Are you okay?’ He touches my elbow.
‘Of course.’
‘And Lucy?’
‘A bit of a wreck, to be honest. She’s missing you.’
He looks at Dan.
‘Soon,’ Dan warns him, breaking off the conversation and holding out a hand to me. ‘A few more days, Clive. Be patient.’
I’m guided over to the vacant sofa and take my place next to Dan. And while Gordon continues to open and close drawers, sometimes pausing to examine the contents, Clive sits back down next to Bill.
‘Good to see you,’ Bill smiles.
‘Good to see you too,’ I smile back. ‘I didn’t think you’d be here.’
‘I came back over with Danny Boy. Getting used to that flight now. I came over before, to see him in hospital. My God, he was the worst patient you could imagine.’
He winks at me.
‘Isn’t this dangerous?’ I ask. ‘Everyone meeting here?’
‘A little.’ Dan nods at the stranger. ‘Foultons fixed it up. They’ve gone out of their way for this.’
‘But how did you get in?’
‘The same way Dan did.’ Clive’s eyebrows twitch. ‘Let’s just say I feel like I’m in a Bond film right now.’
Dan slides a hand onto my lap, addressing me, and only me. ‘Meeting in person is the quickest way, the safest way at the minute. Boyd’s got our numbers and I wouldn’t put it past him to have a lead on Bill.’ He pauses. ‘We’re getting to the end game, Maya. Things are going to happen, but I’ve planned for this. There’s increased security in Camden, down at the house in Surrey, in Limmingham too.’
‘This must be costing a bomb.’
‘It’s a temporary measure.’
‘Man, would you look at that!’ Gordon slams a drawer, distracting everyone for a second. ‘Letters. In these drawers … letters from Royal dudes. This place is crazy.’
‘You should bring Maya in,’ Bill suggests, ignoring Gordon’s outburst.
‘No.’ Dan slips a hand on my knee. ‘We need to carry on as we are. Business as usual. Boyd suspects, but that’s all. If we bring Maya in, he’ll know for sure and then God knows what he’ll do.’
‘But you have protection in place,’ Bill pushes. ‘What does it matter if he knows? He can’t harm anyone.’
Dan shakes his head. ‘I’m not taking any chances. Did your men get anything?’
‘Yes.’ Any sign of the kindly old man disappears, revealing the darkness beneath. ‘Our guest was perfectly willing to speak. He’s been working for a character named Richard Dean, a well-known villain.’ He studies Dan, picking up on something in his reaction. ‘You know him?’
‘An acquaintance,’ Dan confirms. ‘I met him a few times at Isaac’s club.’
He doesn’t explain any further. He doesn’t need to. From the way Bill nods, it’s perfectly obvious he already knows about the fat walrus and his sex den.
‘We’ve had Isaac followed for weeks,’ Dan explains to me. ‘He’s had no contact with Boyd, none that we could see. Isaac’s obviously hooked him up with Dean and stepped back.’
‘Well …’ Bill leans back, crossing his legs. ‘I’ve asked around, and I can tell you Dean’s a nasty piece of work. He makes his money out of drugs, prostitution, gambling, that sort of thing.’ He waves a hand, as if that sort of thing’s nothing to get particularly hung up about. ‘He’ll do anything for money. And he’s probably no friend of Boyd’s, just happy to have his pockets lined in return for
