Page 132 of A Death in Cornwall

“Until someone finds them, I suppose.”

Gabriel was shoving documents into a black overnight bag. The side of his neck was caked with dried blood, and his cheek was badly swollen. Ingrid appeared to have come through the ordeal with only a single contusion. She was clearing smashed computers and hard drives from a credenza as though oblivious to the carnage around her.

“And what about them?” asked Peel. “Were they here tonight?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Christopher.

“Gabriel’s blood is in that outbuilding and in the back of the van.”

“Not to worry, he has plenty more.”

Peel turned to Gabriel and asked, “Did you touch anything?”

He held the Montblanc fountain pen aloft, then dropped it into the nylon bag.

Peel pointed toward the mobile phone lying on the circular table. “What about that?”

“It belonged to the late Trevor Robinson. The remains of my mobile device are in that Faraday pouch.” He added both items to the overnight bag.

“Passport and wallet?” inquired Peel.

Gabriel patted the front of his jacket. “And Ingrid has hers as well. There’s nothing to prove we were ever here.”

“Except for the video from the security system.”

“This property is owned by a corrupt Russian billionaire.” Gabriel pulled the zipper on the overnight bag. “There is no video.”

They switched off the lights and went out, closing the ruined front door behind them. Gabriel and Ingrid tossed their bags into the boot and crawled into the back seat. Christopher sat in front next to Peel. He rolled up the drive with his headlamps doused and stopped when they reached Hill Lane.

“Where to?”

“The Royal Navy air station in Yeovilton. I’ve arranged for a Sea King to take us back to London.”

“Us?”

“You don’t really think we would leave you here alone, do you?”

Peel turned into Hill Lane and immediately scraped against a hedgerow. “Request permission to turn on the bloody headlamps.”

“Permission granted,” replied Gabriel.

Peel met his gaze in the rearview. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened tonight?”

“You saved our lives. And for that, we are both very grateful.”

“What did they want from you?”

“The documents we acquired from Harris Weber & Company in Monaco.”

“Which would explain why they smashed your computers and phones.”

“And the two external hard drives,” added Gabriel.

“Too bad you didn’t stash a copy on the Cloud.”

“Yes,” said Ingrid with a smile. “Too bad.”

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