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asked Pallisder, as he eased himself back into his armchair.
    Delaney sat on the edge of his desk. ‘No, not really. Just protecting your investment.’
    Pallisder chuckled. ‘Good man.’

Chapter 5
    Oxford, England
     
    Aaron Hughes was already in trouble. An hour late, with his mobile phone battery dead, he cycled back home as fast as he could. His mum would kill him. An hour ago, she’d have received the message from the school to say he’d dodged the extra classes she insisted on sending him to during the holidays while she worked. Now the weak winter sun was already beginning to set.
    He couldn’t help it – the new computer game had been released on Monday and Jack Mills had managed to persuade his parents to buy him a copy straight away as an early birthday present. Within four hours, the two boys had reached level six before Aaron had realised what the time was and left his friend’s house.
    He turned onto Saint Cross Road, cycled past the college buildings and debated the shortcut through the fields and over the River Cherwell. Already in trouble, it wouldn’t matter if his clothes got dirty and mud spattered, but the river bank with its tree-covered weed-strewn tributaries was a bit creepy at the best of times, he’d be the first to admit.
    Yet, it was a shortcut to Old Marston and at the moment, he needed all the help he could get. He turned right on to the dirt track behind the college playing fields and changed down a gear.
    Aaron slowed his bike and looked over his shoulder. From past experience, he knew he’d be through the fields and back in suburbia within fifteen minutes – if he could only stop his imagination from working overtime.
    Aaron sighed. He had to do it. He began pedalling again and made his way along the pathway. Panting slightly, although not sure whether it was through fear or exertion, he cycled across the first narrow bridge over the river, conscious of the traffic noise from the city fading into the distance behind him.
    Halfway over the bridge, he stopped and looked down the narrow stream of water which led through the fields to the main river. It turned left before disappearing round a bend, while in front of him the track narrowed to little more than a horse trail. Aaron took one more look at the river and then pedalled as fast as he dared along the loose surface of the track, careful not to skid.
    As he drew closer to the next bridge, the track narrowed and he could smell the early evening scent of damp undergrowth, pine sap and horse droppings while snowdrops tentatively poked through the grass verges on each side.
    Aaron jumped as a pheasant flew out in front of him, squawking and flapping its wings. He laughed to himself nervously then jumped again as something else screeched nearby.
    The narrow path ran between two tributaries of the river before it swept across them and out through the fields to Old Marston. Aaron slowed as he recalled the horror stories of people falling in the water and not being able to survive the icy temperatures at this time of year. He steered the bike to the middle of the pathway, away from the edges of the water, determined not to slip and fall in.
    As he neared the bend in the track to take him home, he saw a shape at the water’s edge, draped between the shallow grass verge near the water and the gravel track. He slowed, heart racing. It looked like an old bundle of clothes dumped on the side of the path.
    Aaron looked around him and suddenly wished he hadn’t come this way. He couldn’t bring himself to turn back though – it was too far now – so instead, he got off the bike and began to wheel it towards the bundle of clothing. As he drew closer, he could make out the shape of a person. ‘Hello?’
    He stopped. He’d heard enough stories about ‘stranger danger’ when he was younger and despite what his parents thought, he’d listened to their warnings about wandering off with people he didn’t know. But this was different. It felt