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who killed himself by walking off into the North Sea? He’d left his wallet with credit cards, driving licence, and his car, with the keys still in the ignition, on the shoreline?’
    Ash racked his brain. ‘Yeah . . . yeah, I seem to recollect . . . when the business almost bankrupted the country. Didn’t a few financiers top themselves because they’d lost everything, including their high-maintenance wives and mistresses?’
    ‘Ever the cynic.’
    ‘It’s in my nature. But yeah, I remember the story; it made the news worldwide because it was happening globally, especially in America.’
    ‘It was because he was the first case in this country. His name was Douglas Hoyle.’
    Ash drew in a short breath. ‘You’re not telling me the victim in Comraich and Hoyle are one and the same man. The so-called financial genius who gambled wildly with other people’s money and lost it all?’
    ‘The same. His high-profile and once highly respected company lost millions of its clients’ money.’
    ‘And Hoyle led the way,’ breathed Ash.
    ‘Yes, David. Douglas Hoyle, the supposedly dead financial genius who didn’t commit suicide by drowning in the sea as everybody believed – which is why his body was never recovered – but went into hiding at Comraich Castle.’
    ‘Jesus. Wait. Wouldn’t the police have investigated a bit further than a wallet and car and its keys left on a beach? It’s been tried before. Then there was his wife and family, business associates even – wouldn’t the authorities have found him through them?’
    ‘He hasn’t had contact with his family from the day he went missing. That apparently is a strict condition imposed on Comraich clientele. He knew he would never see his loved ones and friends again. Oh, and the price of refuge is staggeringly high.’
    ‘I thought Hoyle was bankrupted.’
    ‘As far as City assessors and his own investors were aware, he was.’
    ‘No wonder Simon Maseby was coy about his employers.’
    ‘I told you the Inner Court members are immensely influential, powerful people. And they’re incredibly rich. And
very
secretive. That’s why you and millions of others have never heard of them.’
    ‘So they
are
illegal?’
    ‘I’d say they’re above the law.’
    ‘Nobody’s above the law.’
    ‘Keep assuming that, David: it’ll make you feel better. Now look, what they are, who they are, and where they are, is not important. We – mainly you – will carry on with our commission.’
    ‘God, I was uneasy before . . .’
    ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you.’
    ‘Why did you, Kate?’
    ‘Because Simon Maseby is an old acquaintance; you’re something more to me. I didn’t want you going in blind.’
    ‘I can get off the plane right now.’
    ‘No, we’re committed. If you did renege on the deal, there’d be too high a price to pay. Believe me on that. Besides, Simon would be in big trouble if it was discovered he’d been such a blabbermouth. I called him an old acquaintance a moment ago, but the IC wouldn’t make allowances for even that.’
    ‘Okay. I’ll go on as planned.’
    ‘And you won’t let on what you now know?’
    ‘No, of course I won’t. Anyway, once I’m up at the castle I’ll probably find out a lot more. I’ll try to look surprised. You think there might be others like Douglas Hoyle at Comraich?’
    ‘I’d bank on it. Excuse the pun. But hiding wealthy fugitives could be what the Inner Court is all about. The reward could be fantastically high if they only favour very wealthy runaways. It costs the client or their patrons £2 million per year just to stay at Comraich and a £5 million penalty should the client abscond.’
    ‘
How much?
’ Ash gasped incredulously.
    ‘You heard. And once you’re a guest – that’s the term used: “guest” – then you leave the outside world for ever. No exemptions, no exceptions.’
    ‘So they become prisoners.’
    ‘Very well-looked-after prisoners. According to Simon, they