He disposed of the two cases separately in two different skips, making sure they were a good distance apart. The black suitcase, containing his clothes and bits and pieces from the car and hotel room, he wasn’t particularly bothered about being found. He simply threw it on top of the other contents of the skip he’d chosen. He wasn’t concerned whether other things were thrown on top and it ended up as landfill or if it was spotted by someone who decided to liberate it and make further use of the contents. The silver one, containing the rifle, he was more careful with, pushing it down as deeply as he could into a skip’s centre. He hoped that this one wouldn’t be found, or that if it was it wouldn’t be until he was far away. The unused pistol he dropped into a river he crossed once he had assured himself no-one was watching. He didn’t wait to see it glint as it fell to the muddy stretch of water’s bottom but returned immediately to his car and drove away.

As he drove along he dropped pieces of the credit card he’d only just acquired through the opened driver’s window. The wallet that had held it was now empty except for the cash he’d withdrawn and the ID card identifying him as Adam Johnson. He’d keep that until he could recover his ‘Gomez’ ID. He had no reason to believe this persona would cause any unwelcome interest. Having no ID to present if asked would. He slipped the cash into one trouser pocket and the ID card into the other. The now completely empty wallet he slipped into his jacket.

He returned to the Simone’s. He had to drive up and down the fairly long street he wanted to leave the car in twice before he found a free space to pull into. He’d arranged with his U.K. contacts for it to be collected from there. He looked around, sure that the vehicle was now completely empty but wanting to be certain before he left. Having assured himself that it was, he used the key fob to lock it. When he’d also assured himself no-one would see him do it, he placed the key on the tyre under the rear wheel arch.

As he walked down the street, he reached into his jacket and waited until he was right next to the free standing bin he was passing before quickly withdrawing the wallet and dropping it inside. As he drew closer to the Simone’s house he walked with one hand in a pocket, folding and refolding the card that identified him as Johnson until it gave way and fell apart. He repeated the process on the two halves, then dropped each piece separately and surreptitiously into gardens and hedgerows as he passed by. He was close enough now that in the unlikely event he was stopped he could say that he’d forgotten his wallet and was just going back for it.

Arriving at the Simone’s he went straight to ‘his’ room and repacked the suitcase. He retrieved the wallet from the bedside cabinet and fishing the notes from his pocket placed them inside before putting it in his back pocket. Before he left the room he reversed his actions at the hotel. He hadn’t spent much time in the room so he made sure to touch all of the surfaces that he might naturally have done if he had. Should he need to assert that this was where he’d spent his time, he wanted the physical evidence to back up his claim. He went downstairs, taking the suitcase with him and leaving it in the hall.

He got the number of a local mini-cab firm from Mrs. Simone and after calling for a cab to take him to the airport settled down in the lounge to await its arrival. While he was waiting he gave each of the children one of the W$50 notes he’d drawn from the cash machine with warnings not to spend it all on chocolates. He was in no great rush. The flight he checked out, though hadn’t actually booked himself on, didn’t leave for several hours yet. He was confident he’d be able to get a seat on it, after all there had been plenty free on his trip to the U.K. If not, he could always get a flight to a different destination in the same direction and fly back to Bolivia from there. It didn’t really matter to him which, though it would be nice to arrive home.

His departure from the Simone’s, when the cab arrived a few minutes later, wasn’t emotional. The arrangement had been purely professional after all. It was cordial though. He’d enjoyed the days he’d spent out with them as he thought they had themselves. They had also been very pleased to receive the money he’d paid them, especially as they’d had to do so little to earn it and much of what they did have to do being so pleasurable. The fact that the original persuasion to be involved had also had an element of threat had seemed to be forgotten. He put his suitcase into the boot, its lid being opened by the driver, and climbed into the rear. He told the driver his destination, though he’d already given it once when booking the cab, and settled back for the journey.