They had spent most of the afternoon being questioned by a couple of well-meaning, but none-too-bright detectives at a North London Police station. She and Doug had agreed to come clean about Dream-Zone, but downplay her involvement to that of friend and mutual acquaintance of the deceased. They had tried to explain the potential danger of the video file reaching the Chinese, but it was clear the officers had neither the slightest understanding of what they were saying, nor any intention to follow up. Someone had beaten the young Russian to death, and judging mainly by the lack of blood spatter on Doug and Nadia’s clothes it seemed, the police had appeared satisfied that this someone was neither one of them. All the subsequent talk of computer files though had only served to confuse the poor dears. She and Doug had both aired their suspicions that Markov was the assailant, but what, if anything, their interrogators had made of this was hard to read. She activated the garage door and drove slowly down the ramp.
