I headed back downstairs to the room where Roxana was still out, still not quite believing what I’d seen. It doesn’t seem possible that an eight-year-old kid could carry out a hit so effortlessly, with no one being the wiser. Now my mind is off on a tangent, wondering just what the hell this Mancini guy is up to.

I wouldn’t have felt any guilt over throwing that hump off the cliff, but I must admit that it’s a bit freaky knowing that he was already a dead ...