Page 104 of Joker in the Pack

“But how can poker do that? And what was the vicar saying about bookies? What if she lost her bets? Wouldn’t she just lose all the money?”

“It’s easy enough to cycle money through the betting system and lose very little of it. At a betting shop, you can play on the game machines, and over time, the bookie’s always going to keep a couple of percent, no more. It’s written into their own rules. So if you keep the stakes small and just keep feeding the money in, you’ll get most of it back. And better than that, you’ll get a receipt saying you won that big wedge of cash in your pocket in a game of chance. It looks legitimate, and it’s even tax-free.”

“Wow. I’d never even have thought of that.”

“Or you can back all the possible outcomes in, say, a football match. Win, lose or draw, one at each bookie. By calculating the amount you bet on each option, you’ll only lose a tiny amount, no matter what happens in the game.”

“That all sounds very complicated. What about the poker?”

“Easy. She’ll have set up an online poker game where she was both of the players. One on each computer, using the two connections so it wasn’t obvious. I bet she had variable IP addresses as well. Then she just lost the money from one player to the other and withdrew it to an eWallet.”

It was hard to reconcile business-savvy Aunt Ellie with the woman obsessed with buying musical Christmas ornaments. Like the vicar said—nobody ever suspected.

But there was one part of the puzzle missing. “How did the money get into the poker account in the first place? The dirty money, I mean.”

“That, babe, is the fifty-thousand-dollar question. We need to get hold of those computers.”

Which meant we needed to go back to London. “Let me call Maddie.”

It took two tries to get through to her, and when she answered, the piercing din of the smoke alarm nearly deafened me.

“Hang on,” she shouted. “The bloody alarm’s malfunctioned again.”

I held the phone away from my ear until the noise subsided.

“Liv! How are things going with the cottage? Any more problems?”

“A few. You know that guy Sophie was talking about? The investigator?”

“Huh?”

“At the party? Fruit punch, burglary, investigator?”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. Sherlock. He turned up? Did he bring his magnifying glass?”

“He came all right.” Well, not yet, but I hoped to rectify that as soon as possible. “But no magnifying glass.”

And I certainly wouldn’t be needing one judging by the bulge in his trousers.

“Is he any good?”

Hell, yes. “Er, he seems to know what he’s doing. Anyway, we need to swing by and pick up those laptops. There might be something useful on them.”

“Perfect timing—I’m just making dinner, and I miscalculated the portions a tiny bit. There’s plenty enough for four.”

Those words struck fear into my heart. Maddie had many strong suits, but cooking wasn’t one of them.

“We’re a bit short on time.”

“Nonsense. It’s almost ready, and you’ve got to eat. I’ll keep it hot until you get here.”

I hung up with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, soon to be replaced by indigestion or food poisoning, no doubt.

“Seems to know what he’s doing? Seems?” Nye asked. “I knowexactlywhat I’m doing, babe.”

He ran a finger up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of ringing the bell. “I’ll prove it to you very soon.”

Please say the dampness in my knickers wouldn’t soak through to the seat, because he’d be needing a valet if it did.

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