‘No,’ said Isabel.
‘No?’ said D’Cruz. ‘Charles is our consultant, Isabel—’
‘I’m not having that,’ she said. ‘Nobody’s going to negotiate on my behalf for my daughter. I wouldn’t give anybody that responsibility. And I’m not taking any risks.’
‘It would be a collective responsibility,’ said Boxer. ‘I would provide the strategy and tactics and rehearse all the possibilities with whoever we decide to use as the negotiator, but you would be involved at all times. The idea is just to put up a barrier between the kidnapper and you.’
‘I understand, but I don’t want that.’
‘For God’s sake, Isabel—’
‘Let’s sleep on it,’ said Boxer. ‘Look at it again in the morning. You should also think about bringing someone in who can give you some moral support. Your sister, Jo, is obviously not a candidate. There must be somebody else. Frank mentioned Miriam.’
‘Miriam’s in Brasilia. I’ve already spoken to her and she’s got her own problems with one of her sons. I didn’t even tell her about Alyshia.’
‘Who does that leave?’ asked Boxer. ‘Frank?’
The ex-wife and husband looked across the table at each other. Isabel had moved her food around her plate without eating it. D’Cruz’s plate was clean.
‘You tell him,’ said D’Cruz. ‘He should hear it from you this time.’
‘We handle things in very different ways,’ said Isabel. ‘It’s probably best that we don’t spend too much time together in these stressful circumstances. I want to see Chico, of course. But I don’t want him as my constant companion.’
‘Who else then?’
Silence.
‘At this rate, it’s going to be just you and me,’ said Boxer.
‘I can live with that,’ said Isabel. ‘I don’t like having too many people around me. It’ll just make me irritable.’
‘Are you both happy with that?’ said Boxer, looking from one to the other.
They nodded.
‘All right,’ said Boxer, thinking: slowly, slowly, they’ll come round. ‘Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to Mercy Danquah. She’s going to be my co-consultant, which means she has to know everything about Alyshia’s case and be able to take over if, for any reason, I’m incapacitated. She will also do some basic investigation around the case.’
Isabel looked nervous.
‘Don’t worry. She’s used to doing this. She’s discreet. The kidnappers won’t know, and if by some miracle they do, she’ll back off immediately. You have nothing to fear on that score.’
‘What will she be investigating?’ asked D’Cruz.
‘She’ll find out where Alyshia was last seen and by whom, she’ll make contact with Alyshia’s friends and colleagues and she’ll want to go through her flat, check on credit card and bank card use, that sort of thing. Does anybody have the keys?’
‘I don’t,’ said Isabel. ‘She hasn’t mentioned spare keys. But look, I’m very nervous about Mercy. You know what they said. Anything that even looks like police and—’
‘Mercy’s worked on dozens of kidnap investigations; she’s very experienced.’
‘So many?’
‘That’s just in the UK,’ said Boxer. ‘And every time the hostage has been returned safely.’
D’Cruz nodded, patted Isabel’s hand. They finished their food, drank the remainder of the wine and D’Cruz had an espresso coffee before leaving. Boxer stayed in the kitchen while Isabel saw him out.
‘You probably think I’m a very strange person,’ she said, coming back into the kitchen.
Boxer looked up, said nothing: an old technique.
‘No friends or family in my hour of direst need,’ she said. ‘Just a complete stranger appointed by my husband through an insurance company.’
‘It’s happened to me before, but it’s not normal.’
‘Are you concerned?’
‘I don’t like the expression “emotional rollercoaster”, because there’s some implied thrill, but it describes what happens in kidnappings quite accurately. One moment you’re up, feeling as if everything is positive and going in the right direction, and the next you’re falling into the deepest hole, feeling depressed and demoralised,’ said Boxer. ‘There are some white-knuckle moments, too, but the big difference with this rollercoaster is that there’s not one bit of fun in it. And that’s why you need people close to you, someone you trust, who can put an arm around you. This is an emotionally and physically draining experience.’
‘I’ve always faced the hard things in my life alone. When Chico and I split, I saw no one.’
‘But you had Alyshia.’
‘True,’ said Isabel, foundering. ‘But when my mother died, Alyshia was away in Mumbai.’
‘And your sister, Jo, failed you again?’
‘My mother and Jo did not get on. She was not the right person to be with.’
‘Kidnapping is a mind game. We sit here. They sit there. We have no visual to help us. They’ve already shown they are very capable in the psychological dimension. It really would be good for you to have someone who knows both you and Alyshia by your side.’
‘There’s no one I can rely on,’ she said, sitting back down at the table, ‘except Miriam and now you, Charles Boxer.’
‘I’m the outsider, remember. The one who gives you the objective view. I distinguish between the real danger and the tactical ploy. I make sure that you don’t make the very natural mistakes that emotional involvement can lead you to.’
‘Then you’ll have to retain all that professional expertise and become an insider as well,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to get to know each other. You can start by telling me where you got those eyes.’
‘My mother.’
‘And where’s she from? Afghansitan?’
‘Sydney, Australia,’ said Boxer. ‘And not an exotic suburb. Parramatta. Her mother died young. Her father was an out-of-work drunk, prone to getting into bar-room brawls. My mother left home when she was eighteen, became an air stewardess and never looked back, or went back, not even for his funeral.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Esme.’
‘That’s an old-fashioned name.’
‘It was her grandmother’s name.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Hampstead. She lives in a place that my daughter calls The Coughing Hospital.’
‘Is she ill?’
‘Not in that way,’ said Boxer. ‘She has a flat in Mount Vernon, which was the old Consumption Hospital. It’s Amy’s way of poking fun at my mother because Mount Vernon is a very luxurious development.’
‘So how is she ill, if she’s not ill in that way?’
‘She’s an alcoholic.’
‘Like her father?’
‘Maybe, but for different reasons,’ said Boxer, swerving away from the complicated things. ‘She was in an industry that demanded a lot of entertaining.’
‘I thought air stewardesses served the drinks.’
‘She met a TV commercials director on a flight and ended up as his producer,’ said Boxer. ‘It was a job that involved taking people out to lunch and dinner and drinking a lot at both. She never got out of the habit.’
‘Do you get on with your mother?’
‘She’s a difficult personality,’ said Boxer, thinking: women, they understand things from the very little you tell them. ‘Her condition makes her . . . temperamental, by which I mean mental, with a bad temper.’
They laughed, even though, to Boxer, it was no laughing matter.
‘She likes my daughter, Amy. She especially likes Amy now, which is impressive,’ said Boxer. ‘I hear them cackling in the kitchen like a witch and junior witch stirring the eye of newt, toe of frog stew.’
She laughed again.
‘Why wouldn’t Frank stay?’ said Boxer, to get some of his own questions in. ‘He told me you had limits, but this is an extreme situation.’
‘I like him. I admire him. I even still love hi
m . . . which is crazy, I know, given that he destroyed me with his constant betrayals, and not just sexual betrayals. I thought he was a man of great qualities, a man to trust, somebody worth believing in. But I forgot the most important thing about him. He’s an actor. He can pretend to be anything. He can make women believe he loves them. He can make his employees trust him. He can make politicians lick his fingers. But, as I came to realise, there is nothing there. Or rather there is something there, it’s just that . . . I didn’t say this in front of him, because it would have sounded too brutal, but it was the real reason I thought that the kidnapper knew him. When I questioned whether I was the person who knew Chico best, the kidnapper said: “That’s what happens when you become wealthy. You make sure people know you as little as possible. It leaves you with more leeway for ruthlessness”. And that’s what there is inside Chico, right at his core: a monstrous ruthlessness. And that is why we can’t spend too much time together, because I can pretend for only a limited amount of time, and he knows I know.’
‘What about Frank and Alyshia?’ asked Boxer.
‘I can answer that, but only to a certain extent,’ said Isabel, uneasy now, getting up to clear things away, offering him things which he refused. The whisky bottle reappeared with ice and tumblers. She sat back down with a coffee. ‘Alyshia has always been a special child to Chico. He saw something extraordinary in her and gave her his attention in a way that he hasn’t to his children in Mumbai. I’d like to think he saw his better self in her. She, like him, is very beautiful. She’s razor sharp up top, always exceptional at maths and did a degree in economics at the LSE. Chico wanted her to do an MBA before she came to Mumbai, but at twenty-one, most colleges were reluctant to take her. I don’t know what Chico did but the Saïd Business School in Oxford offered her a place and after a two-year course, she went straight to Mumbai to learn the real thing at her father’s side.’
‘He wanted her primed to run a major global corporation.’
‘That’s what he’s building. He already had the Bollywood studio, which he’s expanded, and the films were, and still are, making huge amounts of money, not just in India, but because of Asian communities all over the world, globally, too. He was making the sort of money that meant he could buy whole businesses. He knew cars would be the next big thing out there so he bought a parts manufacturing company supplying TATA. Then he went into tyres and plastics and finally into making cars himself. He also bought a steel works so that he had the whole manufacturing process under his control.’
‘He told us he’s sent some prototype electric cars over to raise interest in a manufacturing base in the UK.’
‘Oh, yes, he was very excited a few years back when he got hold of some new battery technology,’ said Isabel. ‘He’s already making and exporting them all over the world.’
Boxer nodded, made a note. If this kidnap wasn’t about money, maybe it was about forcing D’Cruz to stop a manufacturing process.
‘What about Frank’s family?’ he asked.
‘His parents died before I met him. He had two sisters. The eldest one died of AIDS after years as a prostitute. The other has disappeared and, despite his fame and fortune, has never reappeared.’
‘That’s a dark past.’
‘That’s Chico for you.’
‘So for Alyshia to come back from Mumbai to live in London means that something must have gone badly wrong between her and Frank?’
‘Neither of them will talk about it.’
‘How long did she last at his side?’
‘Two years.’
‘And you’ve no idea what happened?’ asked Boxer, not quite believing her.
‘Alyshia stayed here for a couple of months while she sorted herself out. I couldn’t help myself and I think I badgered her too much. She moved out, rented a flat in Hoxton and got a job in a bank, which is about as far from what she wanted to do as you could possibly imagine. Now she works, doesn’t seem to contact any of her old friends and has a social life that I don’t know anything about unless I invite her here. I’m pretty sure she has no love life, which for a beautiful girl like Alyshia is . . . is extraordinary.’
‘Was she happy before she left for Hoxton?’
Isabel sipped her whisky and thought for some moments.
‘She’s not unhappy,’ she said. ‘If you met her, she wouldn’t be withdrawn. You wouldn’t think her obviously depressed. We’re still very close. We have a nice time together as long as we don’t touch on certain subjects. But . . .’
‘She’s changed?’ said Boxer.
‘We all do, I suppose,’ said Isabel. ‘I was young and happy myself until at twenty-three I found out what Chico was doing . . . what he was like.’
‘Will Frank ever talk to me? I mean, really reveal stuff to me?’
‘No,’ she said mildly, ‘but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.’
‘He’s already told me he’s not too clever with the truth,’ said Boxer, ‘but that he wouldn’t lie to me.’
‘At least he’s told you that and you don’t have to go through the painful process of finding out for yourself,’ said Isabel. ‘It must mean he likes you or, don’t take this badly, he’s got you to do his bidding and when it’s done, he’ll drop you like a hot rock.’
‘How do you manage to despise Frank and yet still love him?’ asked Boxer, thinking out loud, unchecked.
‘He’s the only man I’ve ever loved,’ said Isabel, unbothered. ‘Nobody else has come close. The memory of that is still very powerful. It means that—’
‘Approximations won’t do.’
She nodded, as if that was, at least, part of the answer.
‘How old were you when you met him?’ asked Boxer.
‘Seventeen.’
‘That’s Amy’s age,’ said Boxer, holding his finger out to stop her pouring more than an inch of whisky into his glass.
‘Meaning?’
‘She’s young, crazy and impressionable. How old was Frank?’
‘Twenty-five.’
‘Did your parents like that?’
‘No, they didn’t, until they met Frank and that was it. He won them over. They didn’t want me to marry him until I was twenty-one. He persuaded them to let us get together two years earlier. By the time I was twenty, I’d already had Alyshia.’
Boxer did some calculations in his head.
‘So you’re telling me you got divorced from Frank when you were thirty-three and you haven’t had a relationship since?’
She shrugged.
‘There’s been no lack of opportunity,’ she said. ‘It’s just . . .’
The phone buzzed in his pocket. Mercy. Damn. He was going to have to take it. He excused himself, left the kitchen.
‘I’ve got her,’ said Mercy. ‘We’re at home. She’s up in her room, sulking.’
‘And? What was it all about?’
‘Karen’s new boyfriend is in a cigarette smuggling ring. They send groups of girls out to the Canaries where they give them suitcases full of cigarettes to bring back to the UK. The girls have a good time away, all expenses paid, and they bring back 8000 ciggies each. Price per pack in the Canaries three euros, price in UK seven quid. Even with the crap exchange rate and price undercutting that’s three quid a pack profit. Twelve hundred quid a girl. Flight, hotel, clubs, drinks – can’t come to more than a couple of hundred. Six girls, six grand. Thanks very much.’
‘It’s not going to take Customs and Excise too long to work that out.’
‘I’ve told them they’re lucky not to be banged up with a criminal record before their eighteenth birthdays.’
‘How did Amy take it?’
‘Badly. Very abusive,’ said Mercy. ‘But you know, I was watching her before she saw me. She was in the station waiting room talking to a couple our age. She was fantastic. Lovely. Entertaining. I mean, completely dazzling. I didn’t recognise her. Perhaps it’s just us, Charlie; we’re the problem, or maybe it’s just me?’
‘It’s both of us.’
‘What are we going to do with her?’
‘Whatever you do, don’t lose it, Mercy,’ said Boxer. ‘The first thing is that somebody’s going to have to keep an eye on her while we’re on this case.’
‘I’ve been calling round,’ said Mercy. ‘None of the usual suspects can do it.’
‘Do you want me to talk to my mother?’
‘The drunken hag?’
‘At least they get on with each other,’ said Boxer. ‘And she doesn’t seem to drink so much when Amy’s around. It could be good for them both. Mum will calm her down and give her some self-respect back.’
‘And Amy will do the cooking.’
‘I’ll call her,’ said Boxer. ‘Don’t blame yourself, Mercy. We’re all part of it. Amy, too.’
‘I love her and I just get hate thrown back in my face. It’s wearing me down, Charlie,’ she said, and he imagined her, forehead against the wall, wishing it was easier.
‘Where are you now?’
‘At the girl’s mother’s house in Kensington,’ said Boxer. ‘You’re coming here tomorrow to meet her?’
‘I won’t get there until 11.00 a.m. I’m seeing the DCS first.’
‘I’ll call Amy.’
‘Good luck. I doubt she’ll take your call.’
They hung up. Boxer tried Amy. No answer. He went back to the kitchen.
‘Trouble at home?’ asked Isabel.
‘It’s complicated,’ said Boxer.
‘I’m used to that.’
‘Mercy Danquah isn’t just my co-consultant. The photograph I showed you earlier is our daughter. She and I conceived Amy and then split up soon after, but we stayed good friends. It looks as if Amy is expanding her horizons a little quicker than we’d like,’ said Boxer, and gave her a recap of his phone call.
‘I can’t believe you could sit here talking to me so calmly with all that going on in the background.’
‘It’s the nature of the job,’ said Boxer.
‘Never showing your emotional state?’
‘Just controlling it,’ said Boxer. ‘And over the years, I’ve developed a nose for when things have gone really bad.’
‘How did you meet Mercy?’
‘I was in the army, she was at college,’ he said, making mental notes of the lies that were building up. ‘We had a fling, she got pregnant. We lived together for about a week until we found we were friends, rather than lovers. We separated and shared Amy.’
Capital Punishment Page 10
