wait, but even if the door had been open, Kate sometimes thought that she’d have stayed there forever. She’d crouched into a ball, like an injured animal, and hadn’t moved, not even when the frightened copper had opened the door and reached in to take her out. But now she had a chance to run, and she knew she needed to take it, for better or for worse.
She swung the false back door all the way open and stepped into the main space of the closet, pressing her ear to the door. She listened for a minute but heard nothing. She put her hand on the knob. She breathed in through her nose and blew out through her mouth.
She tried to remember a prayer from childhood, but all she could remember was what she learned from her grandmother to say at bedtime. She said it now, to herself, her eyes closed:
From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And other things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us
Calmed by the words, her grandmother’s voice in her head, she swung the door open and stepped out of the closet into the still-flickering light of the den.
Chapter 26
On Monday morning, after calling the London office and letting them know he was deathly sick, and asking if he could start the following week, Corbin Dell took out fifteen thousand pounds in cash from the local branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland. He’d opened an account online before his departure to avoid having to pay transaction fees on all his withdrawals. The teller, an Indian woman wearing a head scarf, registered almost no reaction to the request, but she did spend close to fifteen minutes making calls and typing into her computer before finally handing over the money in hundred-pound notes.
With the hefty packet of money in the inside pocket of his raincoat, Corbin took a taxi to Camden Market and began to wander the stalls, looking for a candidate. He wasn’t going to rush it; he had all day, and knew his chances were best when the pubs opened. But he had a plan. He was going to find Henry Wood and he was going to kill him. And this was the best opportunity he was going to have.
It was almost two in the afternoon when Corbin spotted the first promising match. It was in a dingy pub several blocks from the market area. The man had a beard and longish, greasy hair, but other than that, he looked a lot like Corbin. Same coloring, similar features, prominent jawline. And he looked mildly down and out, drinking a pint glass of cider over ice in the middle of a rainy Monday afternoon.
Corbin ordered himself a pint of Stella and another cider, and brought both over to where the man was seated, at a table near the grimy windows. There was just enough light coming through for the man to read his Charles Bukowski novel.
Corbin sat and pushed the cider over to the man, who looked alarmed as he lowered the well-thumbed paperback. He really did look like him, enough anyway.
“Can I ask you something?” Corbin said. “Do you have a passport?”
“The fuck you want?” the man answered. The words were clear, but Corbin didn’t recognize the accent.
“I have a proposition for you, but I need to know if you have a passport first.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a passport.” Maybe it was a German accent.
“I’d like to borrow it, plus any other identification you have. It will be no more than a week, I promise. I can give you eight thousand pounds in cash right now, and I’ll give you another two when I return everything. There’d be no risk for you, at all.”
The man laughed. “Go away.”
“I’m telling you. It’s ten thousand pounds and no risk.”
“No risk? It’s my fucking passport you’d be using.”
Corbin took a sip of his beer. He’d sold enough financial opportunities over the years to know that this guy was already hooked. Getting his passport was not going to be a problem. “How tall are you?” Corbin asked. “Do you mind standing up?”
The man didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said: “What if you don’t come back?”
“Then report your passport stolen. It happens all the time. Where are you from, anyway? I don’t recognize your accent.”
“I’m from Rotterdam. I’m Dutch.”
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Bram. I haven’t decided to do this, you know.”
“Listen, Bram. It’s ten thousand pounds. In cash. All you have to do is hand over the passport, and help