"Still alive?"
"Just."
"Make sure he's never found, Juan."
"Thy will be done. And your wife, amigo, what about your wife?"
Donovan walked to the far end of the garden. A couple of sparrows were squabbling over a bread crust that had been placed on a wooden bird table.
"Amigo? Your wife?"
Donovan closed his eyes.
"Have you hurt her?"
"Not yet. We have her restrained, but we haven't harmed her. I wanted to talk to you first. She is very afraid, amigo. If you wanted her to learn a lesson, I feel she has learned it."
"Did she see what you did to Sharkey?"
"No, but she was in the other room. She heard everything."
"Let me speak to her."
The phone went quiet. Donovan heard rustlings and muffled voices, then Vicky was on the line.
"Den .. ." she said.
"Den, I'm sorry. Really."
"I'm sure you are," said Donovan coldly.
"I didn't know how much he'd taken. I swear to God, I didn't. He told me he was just taking some of it, so you'd have to talk to us. I swear."
"He cleaned me out, Vicky. And a big chunk of the money didn't belong to me. It was promised to some Colombian guys. You've no idea what a spot you put me in."
"I didn't mean, to Den. Honest." She began crying again.
Donovan turned around. He looked up at the house.
Robbie was at one of the windows, looking down. Robbie waved and Donovan waved back.
"Sharkey wanted me dead, Vicky. Do you understand that? He knew that I owed that money to the Colombians, and he knew what they'd do to me when they didn't get it."
Vicky didn't say anything, she just kept sobbing into the phone.
"There's something else you don't know," continued Donovan.
"Sharkey wanted Robbie to find you in bed with him."
"No .. ." sobbed Vicky.
"It's true, Vicky. He sent him a text message. Pretended it was from me. He wanted to be caught. He wanted you to have to run away with him. He used you, Vicky. From day one."
"No .. ."
Robbie was still looking out of the window at Donovan. Donovan turned so that his back was to the house.
"From day one. He didn't love you, he didn't want you. He just wanted my money. And once he had that and I was out of the way, he was going to dump you."
"What are you going to do, Den? What are you going to do to me?"
"What do you think I should do, Vicky? After what you did to me, what do you think I should do?"
"I don't know," she sobbed.
"I'm sorry, Den. I swear to God, I'm so sorry. Please don't tell Robbie."
"Robbie already knows, remember?"
"About the money. I meant, about the money. And about this. Just tell him I went away."
"Vicky .. ."
"I'm sorry .. ." she said, then all Donovan could hear were sobs.
"Look, Vicky, don't cry. Okay? Just stop crying."
"I do love you. And I love Robbie."
"Vicky, stop. Please. Nothing's going to happen to you. I promise."
Vicky sniffed.
"What do you mean?"
"The men there. They won't hurt you. I promise."
"You're going to let me go?"
Donovan hesitated, wondering if he were doing the right thing.
"Yes," he said eventually.
"Oh, thank you, Den. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll never hurt you again, I promise. I'll never let you down again."
Donovan took a deep breath.
"You're not going to get the chance, Vicky. You're not to come near me again. Not within twenty miles. I'm not going to stop you coming back to England, because that's where your family are, but you don't come near me. Or Robbie."
"Den .. . please."
"I mean it, Vicky."
"But Robbie's my son. You're my family."
"The time for thinking about that was before you let him catch you in bed with Sharkey. We're not your family any more. Robbie and I are family. You walked out on us."
"Den, this isn't fair."
"Don't go there, Vicky. You're well behind in the fairness stakes. But I will let you see Robbie. On his birthday. On your birthday. Christmas. I'll even throw in Mother's Day. When he's twelve he can decide how much time he spends with you. Do you understand?"
"Okay," she said, and sniffed again.
"Okay. If that's how it has to be."
"One other thing. You drop the injunction. Talk to your lawyer. I think he's going to be quite happy to lose you as a client after what he's been through. You give up all rights to Robbie. Go back on that and the men there will come looking for you again. They can bury you next to Sharkey. Are we clear on that?"
"Yes. I'll do what you say. And Den .. ."
"Yeah?"
"I really am sorry."
"Put the Spaniard back on."
There were more muffled voices and then Rojas was on the line.
"Are you okay, amigo?
"I'm fine, Juan." He took a deep breath.
"Let her go, yeah? Hold her until you've disposed of Sharkey, then let her go."
"That's a good decision, amigo."
"I hope so."
Donovan cut the connection and put the phone back in his pocket and went back into the house.
Louise and Robbie looked up as he walked back into the flat.
"Is something wrong, Dad?" asked Robbie.
"Nah, everything's fine," said Donovan, 'but I'm going to have to go out for a while." He nodded at Louise.
"Can I borrow your car?"
"Sure," said Louise. She stood up and picked up the keys from the sideboard.
"Can I help?"
"I've just got to do something."
"Be careful, yeah?"
Donovan laughed.
"Honest, it's nothing. I have to do something online, that's all."
Louise kissed him on the cheek. Donovan winked at Robbie over her shoulder.
"Look after her, okay?"
"Are you coming home tonight?" asked Robbie.
"I hope so."
Donovan went downstairs and climbed into Louise's Audi. He used one of the mobiles to call Fullerton.
"Jamie? I need a favour. You've got a computer, yeah?"
"Sure, Den. Come around. We need to talk anyway."
Fullerton gave Donovan the address of his flat. Donovan drove to Docklands and parked the Audi on a meter.
Fullerton met him at the lift.
"Thought you had a computer at your place," said Fullerton.
"I'm under surveillance, there's a chance they've tapped the phone line. Plus they've got gear these days that can read what's on a screen from outside the house."
"Bollocks," said Fullerton.
"Nah, it's true. My security guy was telling me about it." Fullerton led Donovan to his computer. It was already switched on and connected to the internet.
"It's based on the technology that the TV detector vans use to see what channel your TV is watching. It's just been developed so that it can read whatever information is on screen. Customs have had it for at least three years."
Donovan wasn't worried about using Fullerton's computer. Underwood had told him that the art dealer wasn't under surveillance and as always he was going to carry out all transactions via proxy servers that would leave no trail. Donovan tapped away on the keyboard. He logged on to the site of the Swiss bank into which Rojas had put the money he'd taken from Sharkey. Donovan grinned as he saw that there was just under fifty-five million dollars in the account.
"Yes!" he said.
"Good news?" asked Fullerton.
"I'm back in the black," he said.
"Glad to hear it."
To the tune of fifty-five million dollars. If you've got any of that shampoo around, now might be a good time to crack open a bottle."
Fullerton went off to the kitchen.
Donovan transferred ten million dollars to Carlos Rodriguez's account. Legally and morally he figured he didn't owe the Colombian a penny, but after the attempted hit last night, it was clear that legality and morality currently didn't form part of Rodriguez's vocabulary. When he'd finished, he defragmented the disk and then sat down on one of the sofas.