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Behind them, the garden’s tangled maze folded back into itself like the leaves of a mysterious book, closing before it had revealed any of its secrets.The rest of that day they spent swimming and sun baking on the tiny pebbled beach at the foot of the cliff. Towards evening, after a quick dinner of pasta and antipasto, Carlo suggested they go clubbing. Claudia was secretly glad to leave the house but not before locking and double checking all the doors and windows. After they had showered and dressed, she asked Carlo to get her white Alpha Romeo out of the garage. Once he was outside, Claudia took her cell phone out of her handbag. She took it into the conservatory and programmed it to record. She carefully set it up on one of the bookshelves so that its camera lens was pointing at the harpsichord. In four hours at one am, it would start recording and keep recording. She took one quick glance around the room and left; hoping that she had hidden the phone well enough to prevent it. Bloody casino, is that it. That's what they were hiding from me. Laughing, he reaches to slot it back into the pocket. Turning the leaflet, he notices as something slides out from inside and floats to the floor. Looking down, he sees a plain white card. Not wanting the boys to know he had been riffling through their jackets, he scoops up the card. Pushing it back inside the leaflet, a picture, on the back of the card, catches his eye.What the fuck is that? He explodes. Within a fraction of a second his blood had gone from as cold as a Canadian glacier, to as hot as flowing lava. The picture was instantly recognisable, the emblem of the Stratford crew.Mimicking a lion tearing at the flesh of its prey, he rips into the other jackets. All four produce the same card. Proving to him, without a shadow of doubt, the boys were working both sides."How could they do this to me? I have given them everything, money, clothes, girls, drugs whatever they wanted was theirs. Well, it's the last time.
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