Ellen Thursday, and Francis calls me at nine in the morning. ‘Ellen! How are you? You feeling better?’ ‘Much better, thank you.’ ‘I was thinking about you last night. You’re going to feel such a sense of relief when you’ve given the jewellery back to Leila.’ I know what’s coming next. ‘Why don’t ...
There’s a knock on the door. Two men are on the doorstep, their hands are in the pockets of their black overcoats and then they both pull out ID and hold it up to my face. One is young with an angular jaw; the other is an older man, taller, tough and jaded with an ugly scar running from his templ...