Chapter 20: Luring the Tiger Away from the Mountain

The Scotland Yard Serious Crime Unit buzzed with triumph. After weeks of dead ends, a single package tracking number had flipped the script. The Ghost was walking into their trap—or so they believed.

Only Sebastian Gray sat apart, his brow furrowed.

"This isn't right," he muttered. "The Ghost *knows* we're watching Margaret. Why risk this? Even if he's desperate for cash…"

His thoughts raced: *Banknotes have serial numbers. Untraceable cash? Impossible. Unless…*

He shot to his feet. "**We've been played!**"

Blank stares met his outburst.

"Send a team to Margaret's villa—**now**! Check who's been there since she left!"

---

**East End Park, 23:15**

Victor Black melted from the shadows, his camouflage blending with the night. At a rusted trash can, he paused, scanned the empty paths, then hauled out a bulky duffel bag.

*Clean cash. No serials.*

Ten minutes later, a black sedan peeled away from the park's edge. Victor exhaled. Close call, but worth it. Margaret's theatrics at the graveyard had drawn the Yard's eyes—leaving this pickup unnoticed.

---

**Margaret's Villa**

Margaret burst into the study, where her brother Michael paced. "Did anyone see you?"

"No. The money's clean, just like you asked." He frowned. "Sis, what's this about? Ever since John died—"

"Don't." Her voice cracked. "Knowing less keeps you safe."

A knock interrupted them. The nanny's voice trembled through the door: "Madam, the police are here."

Margaret straightened. "Remember the story. Stick to it."

Michael nodded.

Downstairs, officers filed in, their eyes sharp.