Page 144 of The Killer’s Mark

‘We’re good, Poe.’

‘They’ll be there ahead of us?’

Towler didn’t answer. Probably some weird special forces stuff Poe wasn’t supposed to know.

‘Strictly backup, though?’ Poe said.

‘They’ll only make their presence known if it goes tits-up.’

Poe took his eyes off the road and found his iPhone. He tapped out a text to Bradshaw and Estelle. Told them it was on. Where it was happening and that they should hear from him within the hour. Or not at all. He had no idea what was going to happen. He was carrying the equivalent of the Red Chamber’s kryptonite – he remembered the days when he didn’t know useless shit like this – but as Bradshaw continually pointed out, Superman almost always found a way to win.

He turned off the A6 and onto a road so small it wasn’t allocated a number. A fingerpost sign – a black and white post with directions and distances that was only ever found in the countryside – indicated that Long Meg and Her Daughters was four miles away.

He drove half a mile down the single-track road and stopped.

It was blocked. Roadworks. Orange and white traffic cones and a yellow and black ROAD CLOSED sign. Poe said, ‘Bollocks,’ threw the car into reverse and backed up to a passing place. He performed an awkward three-point turn, then found a different road to Long Meg.

He drove a mile and a half and stopped.

That one was closed too.

Chapter 120

‘They’re controlling the perimeter,’ Towler said. ‘All the roads will be closed.’

‘There’s no point finding another route in then,’ Poe replied. ‘We’ll go this way. You stay with Océane in case it’s a trap, and I’ll throw the traffic cones over the hedge.’

‘Put one in the boot, can you?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m going to Glasgow at the weekend. I’ll need one for the Duke of Wellington statue.’

Poe allowed himself a quick smile before putting the car into gear and edging forward. In the end, he didn’t have to get out. An East Asian man stepped out of the hedgerow and shone a torch through the window. When he was happy with what he’d seen, he moved the traffic cones and ROAD CLOSED sign and waved them through. The moment they were on the other side, he blocked the road again.

They were now inside the Red Chamber’s perimeter. Another way of thinking about that was they were now trapped inside the Red Chamber’s perimeter.

‘Shit’s getting real,’ Towler said.

‘Do you need to check in with your guys again?’ Poe said, suddenly nervous.

‘No.’

Fair enough.

Poe crawled down the lane, eyes everywhere. Trying to see out of the back of his head. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. He shuddered. He caught Towler’s expression in the rear-view mirror. He was calm. Relaxed. They were about to head into the hornets’ nest and Towler looked like he could catch forty winks. Then again, Poe thought, Towler was a fucking nutter.

When he was half a mile out, he stopped. Turned off the engine.

‘Does this feel right to you, Matt?’ he asked.

Towler yawned. ‘No, but is there any scenario you can think of that would feel right? We’re about to meet some triad bellends. They think they’re the hardest bastards on the planet, but they fucking aren’t. They think they hold all the aces, but they fucking don’t.’ He yawned again. Scratched his armpit then sniffed his fingers. Océane gagged. ‘And one last thing, they think they control the perimeter.’ He held Poe’s gaze in a vice. ‘But they fucking don’t.’

Poe put the car back in gear and drove the last half a mile. He knew exactly where Long Meg was, but because the hedges and trees were so thick with leaves, he didn’t see the stone circle and the monolith until he rounded the final bend.

He blinked in surprise when he saw what was waiting for them.

Even Towler seemed taken aback. ‘Fuck me,’ he said.