Launch Code

FIFTY-NINE

Alice’s fingers reached up to a handle just above the passenger door, giving her something to cling on to.

With her other hand she pulled out her phone and called Toby.

Voicemail.

‘Toby, it’s me. For God’s sake stay clear of the admiral. We think he killed Sam and Lars and he is probably about to kill Bill. Toby, be careful! Please be careful!’

‘Shouldn’t we call the police?’ said Brooke.

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll do it.’ She dialled 999 and told the operator that she was a suspect in the Sam Bowen murder investigation and that she believed a murder was about to be committed on the cliffs above Old Hunstanton by a man who may be armed. The operator sounded sceptical but promised to send officers to the cliffs.

Megan was driving too fast for safety. Part of Alice wanted her to slow down, but part of her wanted to speed up. Of course, they might be too late. The admiral might have already killed their father. But if there was a chance – the slightest chance – that they might get there in time to warn Toby or their father, they should try to take it, even if they risked their own lives.

Alice had lost her mother. Now she was in danger of losing her father and her husband. That couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let that happen. They had to stop it. Somehow.

Realistically they were going to be too late. Alice felt the panic rise in her chest, but just managed to prevent it erupting in a scream or a sob.

‘Maybe we should wait for the police?’ said Brooke. ‘I mean, the admiral will probably have a gun. Armed police can handle the situation better than us.’

‘No!’ snapped Alice and Megan in unison. What Brooke was suggesting might be the sensible thing, but neither woman was in the mood to do something sensible.

They were on a long stretch of dark road, rapidly approaching a bend. Alice could see the headlights of another car approaching.

Megan was driving too fast.

They reached the bend, and their car drifted a few inches over to the other side of the road. That was enough. They hit the oncoming car a glancing blow, their own vehicle spun three hundred and sixty degrees, and hit a tree.

The hood crumpled. The engine cut out. The airbags didn’t deploy, but Brooke, who wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, catapulted forward into the headrest behind Alice’s head.

Alice glanced across at Megan who seemed to be OK. She was staring groggily at the dashboard. Alice looked over her shoulder and saw the headlights of the other car pointing cockeyed at a hedge. It was in a ditch.

Brooke was slumped back in the seat, her face was covered in something dark. Blood.

‘Brooke! Are you OK?’

She raised a sleeve to her nose and wiped it. ‘I’m OK. It’s my nose. It hurts but I’m OK.’

‘What do we do now?’ Alice said to Megan.

In response, she turned the ignition, which fired, slammed the car into reverse and her thrust her foot down on to the accelerator. There was a painful grinding noise, and then the vehicle pulled back into the road. Megan put the gear in drive. The car crunched forward slowly, and then there was a clatter as something fell off the front, and the car drove free along the road. Only one headlight beam was working.

That didn’t bother Megan.

In a few minutes they were climbing the hill above Old Hunstanton and they came to the turn off to Cliff Parade.

Alice called out, ‘Turn right here!’