He slips cable ties round my wrists and pulls them tight. They bite into my skin. The floor creaks. Something scuttles across the roof. There’s a strong smell of damp and kerosine and something else I can’t place.
‘Shall we go for a walk?’ he whispers in my ear.
I have no choice. He keeps the gun jammed against my neck. We walk out of the bedroom, out of the house and into the trees, through thick undergrowth which gradually transforms into brambles. Klaasen pushes me hard, and soon my shins and knees are ripped and bleeding. And still we march on, rain prickling my face.
‘I know why you did it,’ I tell him. ‘I know about your brother.’
‘So you know who the real bad guys are then. Why aren’t you going after them?’
‘I am going to go after them. I’ve got enough evidence to make them pay.’
Which is a lie. Because there’s nowhere near enough. It’s no longer raining.
‘Beat you to it. My version is better.’
‘The people you killed didn’t deserve that.’
‘My brother didn’t deserve that! He didn’t deserve to die face down, naked, screaming in pain with blood filling up his lungs. He didn’t fucking deserve any of that, not after the life he had. But he got it. He got it because of them. Their greed. And I didn’t deserve to see it happen. I didn’t deserve to survive when he died.’
He starts making a weird choking sound. It takes me a moment to realize he’s sobbing. The victim’s postures now make sense. It was a message, one only the people he meant to hurt the most could understand.
‘No, neither of you deserved that. And that’s why I’m going to make them pay. But I need your help to do that.’
‘And what, I’ll just go to prison?’
‘There’s no way to avoid it, you know that. But we can still hurt them; you can hurt them from prison. You can help me expose what they’ve done, what they’re most likely still doing, but I need you to –’
The gun smacks me on the back of the head. Through the pain I think of a bell being rung.
‘I’m going to make them pay, but I’m going to do it without you.’
‘Just tell me one thing, what did you do with Sabine?’
He laughs. ‘Every word you speak from now on just means I’m gonna do it slower. You get that, right?’
Up ahead I catch a glimpse of the treeline, another clearing perhaps, or maybe the edge of the forest. As we break through I look up to see the candyfloss smudge of dawn …
He puts the phone down. This time, instead of locking it in his drawer he opens up the back, takes out the SIM and removes the battery. In the little canteen area at the end of the hallway he drops the SIM into a ceramic mug and puts it in the microwave. It fizzes and pops and thirty seconds later he removes the cup and rinses it in the sink, what’s left of the blackened SIM disappearing down the plughole. Back in his office he sits, wondering what to do next. When he’d received that call from Rykel he’d acted calm, despite the fear rampant inside. It’s only a matter of time now, he thinks. The question is, how long? He’s been instructed to clean up his operation, leaving no trace. Including the man who’d been doing the work for him. He’s due to meet him later this evening, ostensibly to pay him off. Only the payment’s not going to be what he expects.