Nelia gave him a sad smile. ‘You’re not that much of a fool. It was true. All of it. I killed them.’
‘I went to Paris,’ Banks said. ‘A friend there told me about what happened with Darius.’
Nelia gave her head a slight shake. ‘It was bad. I was stealing his blackmail material. Emile had asked me to. Promised me a French passport. He was going to join me later wherever I went. Darius came in and caught me. He started beating me. There was a knife on the bar, one of those little ones you use to cut limes and lemons for drinks. I stabbed him, but it didn’t penetrate very far, and he still kept coming, so I cut his throat. They almost had a scandal, made a quick cover-up, rushed me out of the country fast with a French passport. I think some of them wanted to kill me, but that didn’t happen. I like to think Emile spoke up for me. He was true to his word. Later the Sûreté got me an interview for the job with the NCA. So they could keep an eye on me, I suppose. And Darius’s musclemen killed Emile. That’s what happened in Paris.’
‘And London?’
‘Goran Tadić? I drugged him in a hotel room and stabbed him to death. I assume his brother and colleagues got rid of the body. I never heard anything more about it until they abducted me from the cottage. They tracked me down through the Hotel Belgrade CCTV and taxi drivers. They also tortured Faye Butler, Keane’s ex-girlfriend, until she told them what she knew. Then they killed her. But even when he took me, Petar Tadić didn’t know who I was. He didn’t remember that he had raped me when I was seventeen. I reminded him before I killed him. I don’t know what you want me to say, but you won’t get any apologies out of me. I have no regrets. Do what you wish, but I’m glad I killed them, all of them, and I’m glad they’re dead. Raymond was worth more than all of them put together.’
‘I can’t say I disagree,’ said Banks.
‘And you a policeman.’
‘Tell me, what happened at the treatment plant.’
‘They kept me chained to the radiator upstairs, in a bare room. It looked like a disused office. It was always dark until they came to see me with their light.’
‘How did you escape?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Petar Tadić made a mistake, and I took advantage. Then I took his keys after I killed him. I came down and saw Keane splashing petrol over you. You know the rest. I crept up on him and stabbed him and cut you free. Then I turned to fight him for the lighter, but he lit it. Pouff. It was so strange. This man, with the last movement in his life, he struck a cigarette lighter and started a big fire.’
‘And afterwards?’
‘There was a car parked outside the side entrance. Keane’s car. The keys were still in the ignition. Tadić had told me that he had come back with my new passport and some money for the journey. They were taking me to a brothel in Dhaka. A terrible place. They told me I would die there slowly of disease and beatings. After I made sure you ran for the main exit, I went out of the side and drove away. I found the passport and money in the glove compartment. I drove to Newcastle and left the car at the airport, then I flew from there to Amsterdam. The passport was in the name of Frieda Mannheim, so I didn’t expect any trouble, or run into any. That man Keane was a good forger. After that... I came here. It was easy to disappear, to lie low. Until now.’
‘But why didn’t you leave with me, the same way?’
‘I think you know the answer to that. I had just killed two men, and you’re a policeman.’
‘Surely you know me better than that, Nelia? And it was self-defence.’
‘Perhaps.’ Nelia smiled. ‘But I was hardly thinking any more clearly than you were.’
She stood up and walked to the edge of the promontory, carrying her wine. She made such a slight and vulnerable figure against the vast expanse of the darkening sea beyond that Banks found it hard to believe she had wreaked such havoc among the men who had stolen her youth. He knocked back the last of his wine and stood up. ‘Raymond left you something else in his will,’ he said.
‘I don’t want anything.’
Banks gestured to the house. ‘It might help. With all your work here.’
Nelia nodded, her back to him.
‘I’ll see to it,’ Banks said. ‘I’ll go now.’
Nelia turned to face him. ‘Must you go so soon?’ she said. ‘It’s not dark yet.’
‘It’s a long drive to Zagreb.’
‘Are you going to arrest me?’
Banks looked at her for a long time, then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve had enough of all that. More than enough.’
Then he turned away and walked back down the hill to his car.
Acknowledgements
There are many people to thank for helping me get this book ready for publication, starting with my wife, Sheila Halladay, who read the first draft and sent me back to the manuscript with many helpful suggestions. At Hodder & Stoughton, I would especially like to thank my editor Carolyn Mays, her assistant Sorcha Rose, and copy editor Sharona. At McClelland and Stewart in Canada, thanks to Kelly Joseph and Jared Bland, and at William Morrow in the U.S.A., Emily Krump and Julia Elliott. It is also important to recognize the efforts of those whose work is yet to be done, especially publicists and sales reps, who will have a far more difficult task this time, for obvious reasons. Thank you in advance.
Also thanks to my agents Dominick Abel, David Grossman, and Rosie and Jessica Buckman. I would also like to thank those overseas publishers, editors, and translators who have stuck with me over the years. They know who they are. There are many others who contribute, including cover artists, book designers, proofreaders, booksellers, and librarians, and I would like to thank all those people. Finally, thanks to my readers, without whom all our efforts would be pointless.