Page 135 of The Killer’s Mark

Océane frowned. ‘What’s he talking about?’ she said. ‘I’m not going with him. He’s the worst human being I’ve ever met. I’m staying with you.’

‘Aww, and you’ve only just met me,’ Towler said. ‘Usually it takes women days to realise I’m the worst human being they’ve ever met.’

‘Poe, you seem to be in charge. Please tell this Neanderthal I’m not going back to his cave.’

‘You have to, Océane,’ Poe said. ‘The Red Chamber will be watching my office. If they see you enter, it’s game over. They’ll storm the building and kill you where you stand.’

‘More importantly, there’ll be no reason not to kill Wednesday Addams,’ Towler added. ‘So quit whingeing and get out of the fucking car. And leave your conference folder; Poe needs it.’

She didn’t move.

Poe said, ‘If you want to get your life back, this is how we do it. And Matt isn’t taking you to his cave; he’s taking you to the holding area. You’re about to meet some of his guys. Apparently most of them still eat with their feet.’ He opened the camera function on his phone. ‘But first we need proof that we have you. Lean in, we’ll do a selfie.’

Poe smiled. Océane didn’t. He checked the photograph. It was good enough.

‘You need to go with Matt now, Océane,’ he said.

‘Fine!’ she snapped.

She climbed out of Poe’s car without a backward glance. The Range Rover’s rear door opened. She got in.

Towler was about to leave too when Poe stopped him. ‘No guns, Matt,’ he said.

‘No guns? What are you talking about, Poe? Of course we’ll have guns.’

‘No guns,’ he said again.

‘Why not?’ Towler asked.

‘Because when your guys have guns, every problem looks like a shooting range. It’s hard-wired into them. I can’t let that happen when there’s a fifteen-year-old girl in the mix.’

‘They know how to aim the fucking things, Poe. I make them practise.’

‘No guns,’ Poe said for the third time.

Towler shrugged. ‘OK.’

Poe, who was attuned to Bradshaw’s linguistic ju-jitsu, wasn’t falling for that. ‘And I’m using guns as an umbrella term that includes mortars, grenades, anti-tank weapons, anti-personnel mines, anti-vehicle mines.’

‘Ah, you’re a bayonets man.’

‘No bayonets,’ Poe said. ‘No knives, sticks, stones, spears, harpoons, nunchucks, crossbows, slingshots, swords, muskets, combat boomerangs, axes, pikes, halberds, tridents, torpedoes or ballistic missiles. Have I missed anything?’

‘Don’t think so, mate.’

Poe considered it. Wondered if he’d left Towler a loophole. Decided he had. ‘And no throwing stars,’ he said finally. ‘You’re not allowed to bring those mental-looking things you were showing me last week.’

‘They are cool, aren’t they?’ Towler said dreamily. ‘I was gifted a set by a major in Japan’s 1st Airborne Brigade a few years back. Saw the same ones used against a convicted child-killer in Tokyo. Disembowelled the bastard.’

Poe winced. ‘We don’t get Esmerée back with weapons, Matt,’ he said. ‘We get her back by using words.’

Towler grinned. ‘Best I go and learn some new ones then.’

He made to leave, but Poe grabbed him by the arm. ‘Estelle and I really like her, Matt.’

Towler stopped grinning. ‘Let’s go and get the cheeky little fucker then.’

Chapter 112