From Scott’s database, Nathan deduced that three of the children were school age, so in all probability she would accompany the youngest pair in the interests of safety. He was correct in his assumption, giving a satisfied sneer as the BMW passed his parked car heading down the Antrim Road. The killer was amazed by the detail in the late policeman’s files. So comprehensive were they indeed that he was aware of the children’s names and dates of birth, even the schools they attended. In the interest of safety he allowed the woman’s car to travel a few hundred yards along the road before pulling out into the traffic. The vehicle had disappeared from view but he was unperturbed having determined its final destination. Approaching the school he was gratified to witness his confidence in Maurice’s information was not misplaced. The bitch’s car sat parked exactly where he expected it to be. So predictable, and there she was, a brat in each hand, every inch the caring parent. ‘My goodness but haven’t you kept yourself in condition, very pretty that is if one’s tastes sway in that direction,’ he scoffed. Nathan was taking his time savouring the excitement of the coming festivities, basking in the power of controlling another human’s destiny. He was tempted to leave a few telltale clues, just to let the silly cow know that she was in danger. What a buzz that would be, he was positively glowing with anticipation. No, this was not the way, there must be no mistakes this time he owed Jason the application of a professional. Gratification will come soon enough when he had the woman and her tribe, he sneered at the noun, totally at his command. Meanwhile he would survey the daily routine of the woman. His objective was to gain entry to the house in order to plan the operation properly. Timing was imperative after all, he did not want her to come home unexpectedly whilst reconnoitring the house. Killing the woman alone would defeat the object therefore he wanted to be ninety nine percent certain of her movements. Women, he had noticed, were creatures of habit and were willing to wager that such would be the case with Una. Twenty minutes elapsed and there she was, so far so good, it stood to reason that she would return home to deal with daily housekeeping chores. His assumptions were way off the mark as she unexpectedly moved off in the opposite direction, stopping at a small café a mile or so down the road. Black frowned, annoyed at his miscalculation, as he watched her take a seat at a table already occupied by two other women. ‘Well well,’ he murmured, ‘I wonder is this a regular tête-à-tête?’ Waiting patiently for her exit from the establishment the Englishman took careful note of the time spent there. At last she was on the move. ‘Excellent, the mother’s meeting took another forty minutes. Where to next one asks?’ In answer to his query she halted adjacent to a newsagent’s shop where she purchased the daily paper and a magazine. Only then did she re-enter the vehicle to make her homeward journey. Approximately one hour and twenty minutes had elapsed since she had initially set foot outside the house. Black was ecstatic, he had concluded that one hour should be ample time to fulfil his requirements. He would be in, find his way around the house and out again with only minimal risk of exposure. ‘Well I believe that takes care of everything for today Nat old boy,’ he told himself. ‘Lamb for dinner,’ he decided, the Breens already a fading memory.