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propellers churned up the water, and the launch powered away from the jetty and back out across the harbour.
    After a couple of minutes Ben was watching the San Remo coastline shrink away and sink out of sight below the flat blue horizon. Thierry was taciturn, so he didn’t bother trying to engage him in talk. Kerry sat quietly, still a little pale, holding his jacket tight around her shoulders as she gazed out to sea. Ben kept a watchful eye on her, looking out for signs of shock.
    Twenty more minutes went by. The sea was flat and calm, a vast blue expanse stretching out as far as the eye could see all around them. The launch skipped gracefully over the water, sending up a light bow wave. Ben was gazing back idly at the frothy wake, deep in thought, when Thierry’s voice broke in on his reverie.
    ‘There she is. The
Scimitar’
    Ben turned to look. He’d been expecting an impressive yacht, but the sight of the enormous, sleek white vessel lying at anchor a few hundred yards across the water made him draw a sharp breath. The
Scimitar
was quite simply the biggest yacht he’d ever seen, her superstructure rising up as tall as a mansion on three stacked decks, the dappled reflection of the water shimmering along the huge length of her glittering white hull.
    Thierry seemed pleased at his reaction. ‘Beautiful, no? Fifty-four metres. What they call a superyacht.’
    ‘And she belongs to Harry Paxton?’
    Thierry’s smile spread into a grin. ‘You are kidding. He is not just the owner. He designed and built her. She is the flagship of the Paxton Enterprises fleet.’

Chapter Seven
    The giant tri-deck yacht towered above them, dwarfing the motor launch as Thierry guided it around to the rear of the vessel and docked up. Ben gave Kerry an arm and helped her step up onto the boarding platform that jutted out a couple of feet above the whispering water. He followed her up a flight of steps to the lower aft deck. A couple of crewmen welcomed them aboard, shooting discreet but curious glances at Ben’s companion.
    Ben looked around him and tried not to be blown away by the opulence of his surroundings. He’d spent time in the homes of some extremely wealthy clients in the past, and stayed in some of the world’s most overblown hotels. None of it meant much to him personally, but he had a pretty clear idea what luxury felt like. And the lower aft deck of the
Scimitar
had more luxury per square inch than anything he’d ever seen. The gleaming floor was some kind of exotic hardwood. The long outdoor dining table was set for twelve. The Jacuzzi could accommodate twice that many. Ben could only guess at what the two decks above him looked like, let alone the interior.
    A set of double doors swung open and a tall woman in a crisp white blouse and jeans walked up. ‘Hi, Mr Hope. I’m Marla Austin.’ She sounded Canadian. ‘I’m Harry’s assistant. Welcome aboard.’
    ‘Good to meet you,’ Ben said. ‘Call me Ben.’
    ‘Harry’s just a little tied up on the phone right now,’ Marla replied. ‘He asked me to apologise. He shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.’ She motioned towards a companionway that led upwards through a hatch. ‘Would you like a drink? There’s a fully stocked bar on the mid deck, right above us.’
    ‘Can you take care of Kerry here?’ Ben said. ‘She’s feeling a little unwell and could do with a lie down.’
    ‘I got attacked,’ Kerry said. It was the first time she’d spoken since leaving shore. ‘Back on the beach in San Remo.’ She blushed. ‘Ben saved me. If he hadn’t been there…’
    Marla’s eyes opened wide in shock. ‘That’s awful.’ She glanced at Ben. ‘I’ll take care of her, Mr Hope.’
    He thanked her, and watched as she led Kerry through the double doors inside the yacht. Left to wander around, he trotted up the steps to the next deck. It was even bigger and more opulent than the first. He spotted the bar in the corner, and went over to