“I’ve known you for just over two weeks, and I’ve already been in a grave with a KGB colonel, I’ve seen a tiny old woman drug a Viking, and I’ve shared a bed with the most handsome man in Kent. For three or four years in the eighties I did a lot of magic mushrooms. I once did LSD in Bratislava with Iron Maiden. But nothing—nothing I’ve ever done—compares to a couple of days in your company. What else have you got in store?” “Well,” says Elizabeth. “Tomorrow we’re digging up a garden with the Chief Constable of Kent, looking for a body and a gun.”
