Chapter 28
It was only a matter of time.
The story was out, faster than he’d have expected.
A couple of hours earlier, on the drive-time news, the local radio station had run a story about a woman from Truro who’d received a mysterious token in the post the previous day; a token that promised her a future of untold wealth; a token that sounded identical to the one currently on Craig Lewis’s kitchen table.
The woman had refused to comment, and details were scant, but he knew a thing or two about how the media worked.
The story was too good to let go. BBC Cornwall would pursue it and before long, probably the next day, the national networks would pick it up.
The woman and her family wouldn’t know what had hit them.
She’d been a fool. The tell no one clause in the letter had been good advice.
And now, it was only a matter of time before the other recipients were found and outed. The solicitors’ letter had referred to ‘a share’ of Quick’s wealth, so of course everyone assumed there were others, and the British media liked nothing more than a challenge.
His phone was ringing. His ex-wife. He ignored it.
Through the dimpled glass of the front door he saw the hired Transit van with his mate at the wheel pull up outside.
He moved back through the hallway to access the garage and open the swing door.
They’d wait till after dark before packing everything up.
After dark, he could avoid any awkward questions or difficult encounters with the neighbours.
By the time the name Craig Lewis leaked – and it would, he’d put money on it – the man himself would be whereabouts unknown.