“Firstly, it is not a little envelope, it is an A4,” says Henk.
“Apologies,” says Rosie, raising her glass to him.
“And, secondly, yes,” says Henk. “I have proof in this normal-sized envelope. The master client files from Maximum Impact. They show that the following five people—Jackson Lynch, Courtney Lewis, Mark Gooch, Bella Sanchez, and Andrew Fairbanks—were all recruited to the company personally by Jeff Nolan.”
“All of them?” asks Amy.
“All of them,” confirms Henk. “And every single other client who has been on an assignment for Vivid Viral Media—there are thirty-five in all—was recruited by Jeff.”
“Oh, that looks bad,” says Rosie.
It does look bad. But Steve is thinking about something else. About who else would have known about Courtney Lewis being in that Dubai prison cell.
“So Jeff was running an international money-smuggling operation with François Loubet?” says Amy, combatively. “That’s your big theory?”
“Yes,” says Henk. “Jeff was working with François Loubet, the world’s most successful money-smuggler. I will stake my entire reputation on that. And you were his soldier. I don’t know why you both had to kill those people—you will have had your reasons—but I believe that you did.”
There is silence around the table. Broken by Steve.
“I’m just thinking about the pub quiz,” says Steve. “Tomorrow night at The Brass Monkey. The four of us are going.”
Rosie laughs.
“No one is to kill anyone for the next twenty-four hours,” says Steve. “That’s all I ask, and Henk, I need to take a look at those files, please.”
“Don’t bother shredding them,” says Henk. “I have copies.”
“Time to go home,” says Steve. “There’s someone I need you all to meet.”
68
From the Desk of François Loubet
ChatGPT, rewrite in the style of a friendly English gentleman, please.
I had a tremendous laugh, I must say, at Rob Kenna’s latest tale. His hitman outwitted by Rosie D’Antonio, the famous writer and also attractive woman. Just because business is serious doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it from time to time—that is another lesson for you.
We all like a good chuckle, so I suspect Rob was hoping I might be understanding, but I am not.
In truth, he has lost my confidence. Enough is enough. I have decided that, though it ill behooves me to so do, I must now also involve the police. I shall ensure they are aware of Amy Wheeler’s blood being found at all three scenes. What a careless ninny she has been!
If Amy Wheeler doesn’t die within the next forty-eight hours, she will most certainly be arrested!
Dead would be best, but one mustn’t get too greedy.
In better news, I have a shipment leaving London for São Paulo in two days’ time. And I don’t need Joe Blow this time. It has been booked directly through Vivid Viral.
Praise be to the heavens, commerce stops for no man!
69
Bonnie Gregor is doing some packing. Her mum is overseeing the operation, and her kids, Mimi and Maxie, are doing their best to help.
Bonnie knows what to pack. She has watched an awful lot of influencers online in the last few days. She used to do this for fun, but now she is doing it for research.
She packs a selection of bikinis.
“They won’t expect that of you, surely?” says her mum, Lois. “Who advertises paint in a bikini?”
“Influencers do, Mum,” says Bonnie, with the sigh of someone who knows more than a parent. She has lost a bit of weight in the past few days, but she still wouldn’t describe herself as “beach body ready.”
“Flencers do,” parrots Mimi, currently attempting a cartwheel on the bed.
Bonnie has already packed indoor clothes and outdoor clothes. She has packed jumpers for the evening, a nice dress from M&S for smart, and she has packed shoes for every occasion.
“You won’t get any more in there,” says Lois. “The zip’ll go.”
Mimi crashes to the floor. Maxie puts her arms around her sister.
“I’m going to have to,” says Bonnie. “I haven’t even started on my bits and bobs yet.”
They won’t be photographing her in her underwear, she’s fairly certain of that, but you have to be the full package.
“Take another case,” says Lois. “We’ve got an old one of your dad’s in the loft. I’ll fetch it down.”
“Can I help?” asks Maxie.
“Can’t take another case,” says Bonnie, trying to choose between two identical black blouses, before packing them both. She wonders if anyone else sweats when they are packing.
