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‘Who?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know! I don’t know! Shaw organised it all, and Sadie took care of the money!’
Morgan cursed, knowing that their two best leads to Abbie were now dead. Before he could press the Duke further, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.
So too did the phones of Cook and Knight.
‘Watch him,’ Morgan instructed the pair, stepping away. ‘Morgan,’ he answered.
‘Boss, it’s Hooligan. I matched the isolated blood I found at the apartment with Grace. She was there at the time of the kidnap.’
‘Is there more?’ Morgan asked, hearing the excitement in Hooligan’s voice and expecting that there was.
He was right.
‘I inspected the wound to her throat, and I think I’ve come up with the kind of blade that was used to kill her. It would also be consistent with what I thought cut the strands of fibre I found in the blood.’
‘A hunting knife?’ Morgan asked.
‘A very specific one,’ Hooligan confirmed. ‘It’s called a KA-BAR. You know it?’
But Morgan didn’t reply. Instead, he hung up the phone and left the room, needing to be alone, needing to breathe.
Because the kidnapper wasn’t only a killer.
He was a United States Marine.
CHAPTER 23
‘ARE YOU OK?’ Cook asked as a stony-faced Morgan re-entered the Duke’s office.
Morgan nodded and turned his hard eyes to the Duke.
‘We don’t have any powers to arrest or detain you, but I’m assuming that for your own protection you’d like to be escorted to Private headquarters.’
The Duke understood that he wasn’t really being given a choice, and gave his stuttering consent.
‘Take him to HQ, Peter,’ Morgan instructed Knight. ‘I want you to work with Hooligan there. See if you can come up with anything about a US Marine working as a bodyguard in London.’
‘A US Marine?’ Knight asked, knowing it was Morgan’s former service.
The American gave him a curt nod in reply. ‘He used a Marine blade. See who you can find, then cross-reference it against Aaron Shaw. See if they cross paths.’
‘Will do,’ Knight promised. ‘Where will you be?’
‘The gym,’ Morgan told him, without a trace of a smile.
CHAPTER 24
FROM THE OUTSIDE, Power House Gym looked like any other industrial unit in London. There were no signs to announce its presence, or gaudy banners promising discounts on joining fees. Power House was home to a hard-core fraternity of bodybuilders and membership was by invitation only, each member being given their own key to the building.
Luckily for Morgan and Cook, the June dawn was already warm and muggy and a dumb-bell propped open a fire escape to let in some air. Sounds of grunting and shouting emanated from within.
‘There’s a lot of testosterone in there,’ Cook commented as they approached.
Morgan stayed silent. The information that their kidnapper – murderer – could be a former comrade had left stones in his stomach.
They walked through the open door and into an industrial space that was packed with racks of dumb-bells and heavy-duty exercise machines of every description. Dusty mirrors lined the walls, and an array of flags hung from the ceiling. Morgan saw the red banner of the United Stated Marine Corps amongst them, its globe-and-eagle insignia staring down at him.
