Rebecca laughed coldly. ‘Yes – this is one of Saul’s old guns and yes, it works.’
Emma stared at the gun, her heart hammering. She glanced at the telephone, but Rebecca saw her and smiled, shaking her head.
‘Shame you couldn’t stay in prison really,’ said Rebecca conversationally, perching on the edge of the desk only feet away from Emma. ‘Then Ruan would be CEO plus you’d be under terrible pressure to off-load your shareholding as well. I mean, it doesn’t look good for a luxury goods company to have a dangerous criminal as its majority shareholder does it?’
‘So what then?’ said Emma, suddenly realizing that she had to keep Rebecca talking. ‘So I sell my shares? Neither you or Ruan has the money to buy them.’
Rebecca laughed. It was mocking laughter that sounded empty and brittle.
‘You gave him a 1 per cent shareholding, remember? He can now buy at the price of a shareholder’s valuation and the banks love him. He’s solid, experienced, reliable. Plus I’m about to take Roger for half of everything he’s got.’
‘So Roger knows nothing of this?’ asked Emma, genuinely curious. All that time I suspected Roger and it was his innocent little wife!
‘You’re the first to know,’ said Rebecca, giggling. ‘I’m actually doing Roger a favour with the divorce. He’s about to lose everything anyway, investing in Ricardo Perez’s hare-brained hotel venture. Do you know Ricardo?’
Emma shook her head slowly.
‘Terrible coke-head. I did my homework because Roger wouldn’t bother. Ricardo’s father has side-lined him in the business because everything he touches turns to shit, just like Roger.’
Emma suddenly remembered the night of the Christmas party. The last woman I fell for was married, Ruan had said.
‘So you set fire to the Stables. You wanted to frame me for the fire and for almost killing Cassandra,’ said Emma working everything out.
‘No, darling. I didn’t do the actual torching. As I said, Ruan will do anything for me.’
Boastfully, she continued. ‘Ruan and I had been talking about getting rid of you for ages. But I was the one who saw the opportunity. On the night of the party, Ruan knew you were staying at Winterfold. You told your mother that Cassandra was at the Stables. We got a taxi into Chilcot with her and she told us in the taxi. I then phoned Ruan with a plan. That simple. It was easy for Ruan to slip off to the Stables, siphon some petrol from his car and pour it through the letterbox.’ She laughed a cold brittle laugh and her beauty took on a cruel, hard edge.
‘And I’d left my black shawl in the library,’ said Emma.
‘Yes, you did. After the fire, we all went back to the house and I found it on the sofa. Wiping some petrol on it and throwing it near the Stables when we all went to watch the blaze was easy.’
Emma felt beads of sweat run down her temple. She glanced over to the door but Rebecca saw her.
‘Anyway, storytime’s over,’ she said, standing up and pointing the gun towards the door. ‘We’re going upstairs now. I think we’ll take the stairs. Move it.’
Rob’s Range Rover pulled up outside the Milford offices only seconds after Cassandra had climbed from Astrid’s car.
‘She must be here,’ he said, seeing Emma’s Audi. ‘Still working at ten o’clock. I tell her not to work so hard but she doesn’t listen,’ he said grimly.
‘Has she answered her phone?’ asked Cassandra, concerned.
‘No, which is strange,’ replied Rob.
‘And whose car is that?’ asked Cassandra, pointing to a soft-top BMW.
‘Rebecca’s,’ said Rob. ‘Oh, shit.’
Rebecca marched Emma up the stairs to the studio floor, pushing the muzzle of the gun into her back as she did so.
‘Over to the fire escape there,’ she ordered.
‘The roof?’ said Emma, trying to turn to look at Rebecca. She knew she was strong enough to overpower Rebecca – but when she was holding a gun there was no way she could risk it – not yet anyway. Rebecca jabbed her cruelly with the gun.
‘There’s been a change of plan,’ she whispered in Emma’s ear. ‘If you’re not going to jail, then I’m afraid you’re better off dead.’
The cold, detached way Rebecca spoke made Emma’s stomach turn over. She really is crazy.
‘I can give you money, my shareholding, just tell me what you want,’ babbled Emma, panicking as Rebecca pushed her through the fire escape door, onto the flat area of roof.