Becky's POV
Tense stillness characterized the return trip to the safehouse. Of everyone, Keith Richards was it. Someone I had virtually forgotten turned out to be the connector tying everything together. The city lights spat by the windows, the old streets suddenly seeming different, more evil, and I battled to understand it.
My ideas flew as I put the bits of memory of Keith together. The kind accountant who used to work for my father, the quiet man who appeared to vanish from the scene at business gatherings. Not one thing about him had ever appeared extraordinary, let alone hazardous. Still, he was at the centre of this web, a puppet master I had never even heard of.
I watched Leo seated next to Marcus as he drove. His mouth closed, his shoulders stiff, and he stared straight ahead a
