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was only a few steps away from the shops and if she entered the busy town it would be difficult to find her. I had no idea what I was going to say, and had a worrying suspicion I was going to freeze and start mumbling or worse... dribbling.

She disappeared around a corner for a second and I increased my speed so I didn’t lose her. I followed round the building and, to my delight, could still see her clearly. She had entered the busy shopping district in just her bikini which helped me find her, partly because she was dressed differently, and partly because every man on the street turned to look at her. Wow, she really was beautiful. I slowed my pace a little and began to panic about talking to her. She didn’t look Spanish, but there was a chance she was foreign and we wouldn’t even have a language in common. Even if she could physically understand me the chances of her finding me attractive and charming seemed unlikely at best. Having run a long way (and in a hung-over state to be fair) I did have concerns that I would look more like a rapist than a suitor, so I took some deep breaths and tried to calm my breathing. Don’t over-think it. Just stay calm. You can do this. To my amazement I didn’t chicken out and I was ready. I was actually ready.

I wanted to catch her as if by accident. I had stayed far enough back that she could never have known I was there and I wanted to talk to her before she realised I was essentially stalking her. She slipped around a corner and I gathered my courage. This was it. I followed round moments after she had gone and... she was gone.

It was impossible. I had followed her into a small street which had some shops on it but they were either closed for the siestas or too far away to have dipped into in time. I calculated I must have gone round the corner no more than three seconds after her and, in that time, she couldn’t have done anything. The road was long and narrow with no streets coming off it. There was nowhere to go. Even if she had known someone was there she couldn’t have run out of sight that quickly. I walked up and down the street and called in all the shops. I ran back up the road I had just come down looking left and right. This couldn’t be happening. Out of nowhere she had disappeared into thin air. Had she even been real? I knew she had been there, but how could I have lost her? I hung around the streets for almost fifteen minutes desperately hoping she would reappear. She was gone and, like it or not, I had to accept it. I vowed there and then if I ever saw her again I would never let her go. I would find her and ask her out. Two days later, I did.

*****

It took me a good hour to finish the file. There were parts I didn’t fully understand and some dead ends that had no evidence they were linked to Ems at all. My head was spinning with facts and I still wasn’t clear on what it all meant.

I don’t know whether Jack had been popping his head out of the door and checking on me or whether he was just good with timings but no sooner had I finished, he reappeared.

He didn’t say anything at first and just approached the table slowly. He knew how much my world was shaking right now and no amount of training could help him help me. He opened his mouth, thought twice about what he was going to say, then closed it again. I smiled over at him, desperate somehow to convince him I was OK.

‘Coffee?’ he muttered at last.

‘Yeah, but let me make it. Yours taste like piss,’ I smiled and we exchanged smirks.

Presently we were both sat with decent cups of coffee, ready to try and make sense of it all.

‘You alright?’

‘Not really, but surviving,’ I said, keen to press on.

‘I guess the truth often hurts more than lies.’

There was a short silence.

‘So you understand the file?’ asked Jack.

‘I think so. She’s a thief and a con artist right?’

‘Yes and a very good one. Tom, listen. I’ve been around for a little while now and seen loads of files but this is big. Many of the greatest grifters would be proud of the things she’s done.’

‘So how come she’s never been caught?’

‘Because she is just that good. It’s all circumstantial evidence on these cases. Most people that get robbed don’t realise for ages and by then she’s long gone. Her record is perfect. Even when the job goes wrong, she somehow walks free. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

There it was again. Against all my better judgement, I felt an inconvenient burning of pride for my ‘wife’. I was so impressed that anyone could do what she had; to know her made me excited.

‘OK, so she’s a con-artist. She conned me into living with her, getting married and all that. Why? She didn’t take anything and she put years of effort into it. Why?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jack whispered, perplexed.

‘And I know she is good, but I would have bet everything that we were in love. I know we were. Was it all lies?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said again. He wasn’t looking at me now. Did he know something?

‘And even if her being a thief explains why she left, what about the bullet, the note...’

‘OK. I have a theory.’ Jack spoke slowly and with great authority.

‘Good, what is it?’ I was desperate to hear any ideas.

‘It’s not good. It may well be wrong, but what happened tonight backs up my idea.’

His eyes met mine for the first time in ages and I braced myself, knowing my world was about to be rocked again. Chapter Ten

‘The kind of men that make Satan look well-meaning.’

‘You have to understand, this is just guess work. OK?’ Jack had his concerned face back on.

‘I understand mate but please, none of this makes sense to me. What do you think?’

He sipped his coffee, cleared his throat and began.

‘Open the file again, to the list of all her jobs,’ he said. I did as I was told.

‘Got it,’ I replied, flipping the pages as I spoke. My eyes fell on the now familiar sheet, listing her previous achievements.

‘What you have to know is, grifting is hard work. The planning, the details, the execution. It takes some real skill.’

‘I know, I can imagine.’

‘Right. But that’s only part of it. It’s one thing trying to sell the Eiffel Tower but it’s a whole different ball game trying to find someone to sell it to. Think about it. Who do you know has a hundred million pounds to spend?’

‘Millionaires?’ I said helpfully.

‘Specifically?’

‘OK, um I don’t know. Wealthy investor or business men?’

‘Sometimes. Or...’

I thought for a second.

‘Criminals,’ I said at last. ‘Mob bosses and gangsters and whatever.’

I wondered to myself momentarily whether gangsters still existed. Sure, there were still thieves and gangs of criminals but did anyone actually call themselves gangsters anymore? Whatever happened to the trilby? I flicked this useless trivia question out of my head and starred at Jack.

‘Exactly.’ I was hoping he wouldn’t say that.

‘Go on.’

‘OK, so making a criminal a target is dangerous. They won’t go to the police if they find out. If you are going to do it you better disappear, right?’

His question seemed rhetorical yet he paused and showed no signs of moving on so I added another of my pointless contributions to the conversation.

‘Yeah,’ I breathed.

‘Looking at these early jobs it looks like the only people who got ripped off were the usual; the businessmen, the spoilt. No big deal. But as time goes on it looks like she got restless. Started going after small time crooks, doing small jobs and short cons. She always got away with it by the looks of things. Until...’

The hairs on my neck were standing up and the ones on my arms weren’t far behind. I didn't like what I was hearing but any interruptions would just slow Jack down.

‘You see she did a job in Marrakesh?’ He ran his finger down the page and highlighted the one he wanted me to see. I nodded.

‘We are just guessing here, but it looks like the items she stole were not to small time crooks but to these guys.’ As he spoke he slid a black and white of two men. It was difficult to make them out perfectly but they had full beards, hats on and scared me beyond belief. Just looking at them was enough to need a change of underwear.

‘What kind of criminals?’

‘The Russian kind.’

‘And what kind is that?’

‘The kind of men that make Satan look well-meaning.’

I looked at the photo and agreed. I wouldn’t mess with them. Why the hell would Emma?

‘These are the Kozlov brothers. Russian Mafia. You should see their file. You think Emma’s is full...’

‘I don’t suppose their file is full of driving offenses and traffic violations?’ I asked hopefully.

‘Yes but among other things...like murder and racketeering. I don’t think there is a crime they haven’t tried at some point. Real bad asses.’

‘So what makes you believe she got involved with guys like the Kozlovs? I thought she was meant to be good.’

‘She is. But the Kozlovs are good too. They disguise themselves so well she would never have known who they were until it was too late.’

‘But Marrakesh was like seven years ago, surely she did get away with it?’

‘We don’t know if they ever found her; remember this is all guesswork and theories. But days after the Marrakesh job, the Kozlovs were down several millions. To top it off two of their men got sent down at the same time. No idea if she was involved in that but one thing is for certain: the Kozlov brothers were angry and wanted blood. It wouldn’t surprise me if they spent years tracking her down.’

I recognised the familiar feeling of sickness in my stomach. It was like an old friend at this point. I was so scared for Emma. What had happened to her?

‘So you could be wrong, right? This could be wrong?’

‘Yeah, of course, but it makes sense Tom. I know it’s not easy to hear but all the facts point to this.’

‘What other facts? You said tonight pointed to it?’

‘Two other things. I made a call when I was in there with Rach. The Kozlov brothers are some of the most infamous in the world. Everywhere they go the countries always know. Interpol follow them. M15 follow them. The FBI follow them. You get the idea.’

‘Yep they're real bad guys. I get it. What has this got to do with tonight?’

‘I’m getting there. So I call the office, got them to run a check and they are here. Spotted in London two days ago.’

I thought hard for a second.

‘OK. So we know Emma ripped off the worst people possible. And we know they are now here in London. But, that could all be circumstantial right?’

‘Definitely. But there’s a

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