‘And it was all going so well … ’ Amy held the gun on Marina and Josephina. Her bloodied features filled with regret.
‘So well?’ said Marina, clutching her daughter tightly to her chest.
‘Yes. Everything was planned, everything was ready.’
‘Everything planned? You killed … killed someone I loved. You tried to kill everyone I love.’
‘No, not me. Michael Sloane. He did that. I’m not responsible for what happened to your family.’
‘Michael Sloane did that?’ Marina clearly didn’t believe her.
‘Graham and I were going to approach you. Ask you to help us with Stuart. We were going to do it properly, formally. But Michael found out. We didn’t plan it well enough. He found out we were going to approach you when you were in that cottage in Aldeburgh. So he got there before us. Firebombed the place. Only I managed to get you and your daughter out of there. And then … we had to improvise.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
Amy sighed. ‘I don’t care.’
‘You blame Michael Sloane for everything.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘And why do you think that is?’
‘You used me. You kidnapped my daughter.’
‘I panicked. After the blast. Had to do something. I’d come to speak to you, ask you nicely, but then there was the blast. And Michael was there. You were unconscious, I pulled you out of its range so he couldn’t grab you, throw you back in. Then the car went up. And the only thing I could do was take your daughter. And run.’
‘But … you tortured us – me and my daughter … you enjoyed it.’
‘So melodramatic. We had to see that you weren’t being followed, hadn’t told anyone. So we set a test for you. In the bar in Southend. Told you which motel to sleep at. I even came into the hospital, put the book of maps and the phone in your bag.’
‘You were spying on me.’
‘We already had the equipment. The Sloanes knew what we were up to. Were trying to stop it. Even if it meant killing us. So we were monitoring their calls, checking that they weren’t getting too near us.’ She sighed. Readjusted the gun. ‘Still, it doesn’t matter. Not now. Not any more.’
Marina stared at her, unable to move.
Amy’s finger tightened on the trigger.
There was nowhere for Marina to run, nowhere she could hide that would take her out of range of the gun. And she couldn’t make a grab for it, not with Josephina in her arms. As she closed her eyes to accept was about to happen to her, Sandro stepped out of the shadows and came up silently behind Amy.
He reached round, grabbed the hand that was holding the gun, hooked his other arm round her neck.
Marina put Josephina down. The girl didn’t wanted to be parted from her mother, complained. ‘Just for a second, darling. Mummy’s got something to do.’
Josephina did as she was told.
Marina stepped forward. Sandro twisted Amy’s hand, making her drop the gun. His other arm gripped her even tighter round the neck.
‘What do we do with her?’ he asked.
‘Franks should be here soon. We’ll leave her for him.’
Amy squirmed and wriggled against Sandro’s grip. Marina stared at her.
‘I’m a mother. A very angry mother. You stole my daughter. You tried to kill me and my family. You killed someone I loved.’
‘Not me,’ said Amy, gasping and struggling. ‘Michael … ’
‘But you stole my daughter.’
Amy managed to get free of Sandro’s grip. She looked to the door, thinking of making a run for it, but Marina and Sandro were blocking her way. Instead she backed away from them, tripped and lost her footing.
Marina put out an arm to catch her but missed. Amy fell backwards through the trapdoor into the water below. She tried to reach the side, pull herself out, but Marina stood over her. Looked down at her.
Then slammed the trapdoor shut.