On the morning of her husband’s disappearance Celeste Carter-Lacey found two notes by her bed. She took them to the kitchen where she’d left her reading glasses.

Dearest C.

I can only apologise for the sorrow and misery the last few months have caused you. I can no longer live with being the source of such pain. All these accusations against me are false, of course, but I have made many enemies and it seems they intend to have me now. They have my scent. I will not give them the pleasure. Be strong, my darling, as I have tried to be.

Give our beautiful children a big hug from their loving Dad. I should have been there for them more. My time has come. You are my always, my one, my only.

– Roderick

She groped for the edge of the table to stop herself falling. She knew the tax investigation had taken its toll but they’d always got through these things.

Her hands shaking she opened the other note—the whereabouts of a safety deposit box key, an airline ticket, a foreign villa in a country with no extradition treaty. Destroy this letter. Give the other to police. I will see you soon my love.

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