by Tom Bale
Jody tries to doze but can’t. Too much on her mind. Should they speak out or keep quiet? Perhaps, after a few days at home, they’ll be able to decide what’s best.
The media, not the police: that’s one thing she’s clear on. Her dad has an old friend who works for the Guardian. A backroom job, but even so, he’s bound to know some journalists.
At the airport, when she used the toilet, she discovered a folded sheet of paper in her handbag. Gabby must have placed it there when she was checking their passports. It contains a list of names, under the heading: ‘Borko’s party guests’. One or two seem vaguely familiar. Names a Guardian journalist might recognise.
Feeling restless, she opens the overhead locker and finds the envelope with the cheque. She shows it to Sam as she sits down.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘Yeah?’ he says, in a tone that means, Uh oh…
‘If we take this money, Borko’s won.’
‘How d’you work that out?’
‘It means we’re accepting that the world is how he wants it to be. Run by people like him, for people like him, while people like us just put up with it.’
‘You’re sounding like your dad again.’
‘Good. From now on I’m going to listen to my dad a lot more.’
Sam sighs, but it’s slightly half-hearted. ‘We could buy our own home with this, Jode.’
‘Except it wouldn’t be ours. It would be Borko’s house, and we’d remember that – we’d remember how he demeaned us, and terrorised us, and endangered our children – every time we stepped through the door.’ She pauses, waits for him to say something, and then continues. ‘When we buy our first property together, I want it to be truly ours. The home we worked for, saved for, dreamed of owning. Until then…’ she nods at Dylan, snoring gently next to his dad, then presses back in her seat so that Sam can see Grace, sound asleep beside Jody, ‘… we’re doing okay, aren’t we?’
He’s silent for a few seconds, but finally says, ‘Yeah. We are.’
‘Then it’s our world too. It doesn’t belong to him. We don’t belong to him.’
He returns her smile. She opens the envelope, goes to hand him the cheque but he shakes his head.
‘You do it.’
‘We’ll both do it.’
So they tear it up together: first into two, then each of them rips their half into many tiny pieces before sprinkling the fragments into an empty plastic cup. Nothing has felt this crazily good for years. Liberating, is the word Jody wants; a concept that’s barely entered her head since she first peed on a stick and the blue line appeared.
The steward is approaching, pushing his trolley. More drinks and snacks. No one’s hungry at four in the morning, and it’s a dreadful time to contemplate alcohol, but they order champagne all the same.
Epilogue
All his life, Naji was a faithful servant. He did terrible things, unspeakable things, for unspeakable people. For years, decades, he had few regrets. He felt no guilt. No compassion.
And still he doesn’t.
But he is a practical man. Pragmatic. He follows no ideology, and owes no loyalty.
Borko didn’t know that, and neither did the president. They think they own him. In fact, they were merely leasing his skills, his diligence, his judgment.
The house is monitored by a network of cameras, but Borko ruled out coverage in his bedroom suite, even when his aide strongly recommended it on grounds of personal security.
So Naji installed them anyway, on a separate network, by a different contractor who was sworn to secrecy for the duration of the work. A contractor who regrettably met his demise shortly afterwards.
Naji watched the rep’s murder and enjoyed every second. Enjoyed it more than the earlier fornication. He always regarded her as a cheap whore, no matter what her father was worth.
And now, even more importantly, he has the footage.
On the mainland, unrest is growing. Opposition to the president becomes bolder, more vocal with each passing day. A new leader has sprung up, and so far he has managed to stay alive. He is young, charismatic, wealthy and less overtly corrupt than anyone in the current regime. Word of his potential is spreading. In foreign capitals, a subtle courtship is underway. Ambassadors and business leaders have been briefed that change is on the horizon; a lucrative new era for those willing to pledge their support.
And when the time is right, this young man will step on to the world stage and call for the old order to be swept away and replaced by something fresh and vibrant and pure.
All he needs is a trigger point. An inciting incident. Proof of the irredeemable criminality of the current leadership.
And now Naji has obtained it for him. More than enough to destroy Borko, and through him, his father.
Borko, initially keyed up after his nocturnal exertions, is sleeping soundly. For a few seconds Naji observes him, not fondly, while he despatches a copy of the footage via a secure link to an account only he and his London-based lawyer can access. He places another copy on a flash drive and slips it into his pocket.
Call Naji a cynic, but he doesn’t feel the new leader will do much to improve the country’s fortunes; the problems are far too deep-rooted for that. But to Naji’s personal fortune, the young man will make an immense difference, and that is really what matters.
Naji wears a broad smile as he leaves the house for the last time. The sun is shining, birds are singing, there are gentle waves lapping against the shore.
It’s another beautiful day in paradise.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Betsy Reavley, and to Fred, Tara, Morgen and the whole team at Bloodhound, as well as to Hannah Whitaker at The Rights People. Special thanks to Sumaira Wilson for setting the wheels in motion.
And as ever love and thanks to all my friends and family, especially Niki, Emily, James, Lizzie and Theo.
Praise for the author
“Tom Bale is one of the best British thriller writers around.” Simon Kernick
“Bale keeps us guessing as our heroes edge towards a shocking climax.” Matthew Lewin, Guardian
“This is a mystery and a thriller that is satisfying on every level.” Jon Jordan, Crimespree
“With strong characters, a fast pace and lots of twists and turns, this is a satisfying read, right to the shocking end.” Peterborough Evening Telegraph
“This is a neat British gangster thriller written with élan and substance.” Geoffrey Wansell, Daily Mail
“A rollercoaster of high-octane action that just won’t let go. Highly recommended.” Kim Slater
“A clever tale of unintended consequences… this is also a good crime set-piece novel.” Adrian Magson
“Races along to a gripping finish.” Sunday Mirror
“Bale specialises in villains who have believable motives for their actions but are none the less appalling for all that.” Mat Coward
“The tension is palpable and the pace never lets up.” Renita D’Silva
“Fast paced, shocking turns and thrilling scenes which make the reader focus purely on the characters’ plight within the pages.” Bibliophile Book Club
“Heart-poundingly brilliant, the tension was palpable.” Sincerely Book Angels
A note from the publisher
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