The Yacht Party (Lara Stone)

Lara tilted her head back, looking up at the pewter sky through wrinkled rain-washed glass.

‘Is that why you targeted me too?’ she asked. ‘Have you been feeding Sachs information on us too?’

‘No!’ said Stefan. ‘After Sandrine I stopped.’

Perhaps, thought Lara, but then Stefan had seemed a little too eager to persuade her and Eduardo that Jonathon Meyer’s inner circle and the Kanjomo Mine were the threads to follow, steering them onto an alternative narrative, trying to deflect attention away from the real one – and from everything he had done.

‘So why didn’t you tell us, Stefan? After Sandrine died?’

‘Because I wanted to believe Helen’s death was an accident,’ he said, his voice desperate now. ‘I wanted to believe Sandrine had depression and had taken her own life.’

Alex glanced at Lara.

‘And now?’ he asked. ‘Is that what you think?’

Stefan hung his head, blond hair falling over his face.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Now I’m scared about what they did to her.’

Lara felt emotions roll over her like waves: relief, anger and finally a terrible ache of sadness. She had been right all along, Sandrine hadn’t killed herself. But she hadn’t been able to save her friend and that wonderful burning bright life-force was gone forever.

‘Why, Stefan?’ she asked. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘A hundred thousand reasons.’

‘£100,000?’ said Alex. ‘That was the price of Sandrine’s life?’

‘Everyone has a price, Alex. Everyone, even you.’

Before Alex could answer Stefan picked up his rucksack. Lara tensed, almost expecting him to pull out a weapon, but instead he opened his laptop and began typing.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Accessing my files. They’re all encrypted – in the cloud.’

Finally, he closed the computer and stood up, holding something out to Lara: a USB flash drive.

‘Take it,’ he said. ‘Put it somewhere safe.’ When she failed to move, Stefan took her hand and forced it into her grip. ‘Sandrine’s files,’ he said. ‘All of them.’

Lara looked down at the little plastic stick.

‘But I thought you gave them to Sachs.’

‘I did, but I made copies.’

Stefan’s face was pale, but his eyes were still hopeful.

‘I never wanted to be the bad guy,’ he said in a voice so quiet she could hardly hear it.

‘I think you’d better go,’ she replied. Only a short time earlier, Lara had longed to be alone with Stefan, had dared to dream about a life together. Now she couldn’t bear to be breathing the same air. She had wasted enough time on him already.

Stefan nodded to himself and, hoisting his bag, headed towards the door and was gone.

Alex came over to her and put his arms around her. He held her for a long time. It felt good, his strong arms making Lara feel as if she wasn’t alone in the world.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered and Lara looked up, her damp eyes searching his.

‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Lara. ‘Seriously Alex, none of this is your fault. And don’t you think I’d rather know?’