Page 173 of Slack Tide Kill

"Reg's son, so that's true."

"He's taking the piss. Three effing years! And now you think he's been waiting all that time for a big enough storm?"

"Maybe?" She ran the numbers in her head as the squad car swerved through the water alongside the sea wall. Any hint of the road underneath was invisible. "Maybe the storm, and getting Roarke set up at the reactor. Setting up all this bullshit with Arthur Bledd."

"Poor Bledd," Liam murmured. "Framed twice, and it's always been this bastard on the houseboat next door. Having drinks." They rode in near silence bar the splattering of water on the windshield. "Sunday night, you think Bledd was out at Mensah's house?"

She glanced at him. "I don't know. Why?"

"A wild mooring there, and it's an easy snatch and grab for Mercer. Nick his boat, go down the coast a thousand yards, and dump Harrow. Then drop it back before Bledd ever notices."

Sally's mouth ran dry. "It all lines up."

"We still don't have any clue how he took Harrow. Or why."

"If he's been preparing this for three years? He could've groomed Harrow. Earned his trust. They're mates. Then he calls, Harrow goes, one beer with ketamine in and he's done."

"Murdering bastard."

Sally grunted and pushed the pedal down. The sea churned on her right, whitecaps peaking and spitting spray, then the track opened up to join the coast road heading east to Lydd.

"Thirty years," Liam said, staring ahead numbly. "With the Met. Then he comes back from London, and he sets all this on course."

Sally grunted. Chunks of shingle began hammering off the window, caught in the gale and propelled by the waves, leaving bullet-like stars in the glass.

"What was in all this for Roarke?" Liam asked. "He took a lot of risks, stealing Reactor Logistics off Meeks, cutting CCTV. Why bother?"

"I don't know." The wipers thrashed helplessly at the rain. "Maybe Mercer's London contacts were worth something? 30 years on the Met, he'd know all the gangs, right?"

Liam exhaled like he'd been punched. "Sure. If I was trafficking girls, I'd know who to talk to, and I was only there for 10."

"So it's a business opportunity for Roarke. Help him traffic his girls into the mainland, and all he's got to do is cut a few wires."

"While Mercer's plotting to blow up the reactor and irradiate Dungeness." Liam shook his head. "Chaos and order. An exclusion zone around the bomb site. Is that really what he wants?" Liam paused. "Does it seem enough?"

Sally frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. Just, hardly anybody actually lives here, right? Dungeness is barren, and it's already chaos, the shingle always creeping, the storms battering anything built nearby. And Mercer, he's a maximalist. This Heraclitus stuff, it's all or nothing."

Sally waited. "Go on."

"Maybe I don't get it. A bomb in the reactor may kill a few people; just those nearby. Thanks to the storm, the beach is lost for a while, but who cares? He'd have a way higher kill count if he just bombed Rye station at peak time."

Sally considered that. Liam wasn't wrong, so what did it mean?

Chaos. Order.

"Low-level radiation wouldn't kill anyone, either," she said. "At least not right away. Maybe it'll reduce the lifespan of those exposed. Certainly anyone who stays on the beach."

"So that's a slow-drip death for a few dozen people," Liam said. "It just, for all this effort? It hardly seems worth it."

Sally squeezed the wheel as the road curved north. Slow drip. Just a few dozen people. Names and faces ran through her thoughts, the people who'd be most affected. Dean Whateley, the Seafoam Strangler. Amelia Brig in her father's house, at the end of the row. Other beach combers like Nancy Cagen. Artists hoping for a residency in Prospect Cottage.

"It does feel like we're missing something. It seems–"

The window to Sally's right exploded. There was a blast and cubic shrapnel blew inward, something hard smashing into her temple.

She jerked sideways, pulling the wheel left even as she instinctively slammed the brakes. The vehicle hydroplaned, skidded out then spun through the water. Sally tried to pull herself back upright but Liam had her now, his arms wrapped protectively around her head, hunkered together over the center console.