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11.58 A.M.

‘So, is the article written?’ Stacey asked, unable to help herself. Although she was trying to remain uninterested, her peripheral vision had clocked the reporter alternating between tapping on her laptop furiously and staring off into space.

‘Yeah, it’s done.’

The reporter had no permission to post the story, and she had two minutes to make the call. Stacey couldn’t help but wonder what the consequences of going against her boss would be.

Frost visibly jumped when her phone beeped a message.

‘It’s him,’ Frost said.

‘Your boss?’ Stacey asked.

Frost shook her head. ‘Our guy. He’s sent me a one-minute countdown.’

Although Stacey knew she should be focussing on the clue, the decision Frost had to make was intriguing her.

The woman had a backbone – they all knew that. And she wouldn’t have brought the case to them if she wasn’t convinced this was no innocent game. But was she willing to risk the wrath of her boss to do the right thing?

‘Thirty seconds,’ Frost said, not expecting an answer.

Stacey offered nothing and just waited.

They all knew that the Jester had promised that people would get hurt if his instructions weren’t followed.

Indecision was written all over Frost’s face.

Stacey couldn’t help the question coming out of her mouth.

‘What exactly do you think your boss will do?’

Frost pressed the Publish button.

‘I guess we’re about to find out.’