Abducted (Powell Book 2)

by Bill Ward

  “It’s so good to meet you,” Angela greeted him with a warm smile.

  Powell shook hands and followed her through to a lounge with expensive furnishings and accepted the offer of coffee. As he waited for her to return with the coffee, he looked at the various pictures on the walls, which he assumed were of her children and the reason for his visit. He knew from the file he’d studied that the boy was ten and the girl was nine.

  “That’s Karim and Laila,” Angela confirmed over his shoulder.

  “Nice names.”

  “It was difficult finding names which we both liked and were suitable for our mixed English and Saudi cultures so when I was pregnant the first time, we made a list of possible names, which were acceptable to both of us. We agreed if it was a boy, he could choose any name off the list and if it was a girl the same thing applied for me. He chose Karim and next time around I chose Laila.”

  Powell took the cup of milky coffee he’d requested and sat in a very soft armchair while Angela sat on the striped sofa.

  “I hope Brian has informed you that this is an introductory meeting. I haven’t yet decided whether to help you,” Powell explained. Then seeing the look of anguish on her face he quickly added, “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, it’s just that I don’t want to take your money under false pretences and give you hope without any chance of success.”

  Angela regained her composure. “That’s very honest of you Mr. Powell but frankly you are my last hope and I’d pay you anything you ask, even if there was only a one per cent chance of success.”

  “Please just call me Powell.” He took a small notebook from his pocket. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me about how you met your husband?”

  “We met at the dinner party of a mutual friend. I’ve always been attracted to foreign men. I’m not very keen on the typically emotionally stilted English types.”

  Powell looked up from his notebook and raised his eyebrows.

  “Sorry,” she apologised. “But I grew up in a family where to show emotion was shocking and by my twenties, I realised I wanted something different in a man to what I was expected to be dating.”

  “Had you ever had a relationship with anyone else from the Middle East?”

  “No, Baz was my first. I’d been out with mostly Latin types before Baz. You know, French, Italian, Spanish.” She smiled, then added, “I did a lot of travelling in my twenties. Of course, my friends warned me against marrying an Arab. Unfortunately, I don’t tend to listen to other people once I’ve set my mind on something. Pig headed, my mother used to call me.”

  Powell had to hold back a smile. Angela was turning out to be a little different to what he’d expected and he knew he was quickly being sucked in by her personality. It was soon going to be very difficult, if not impossible, to refuse to help.

  “What did Baz do for a living when you met him?”

  “He worked at the Saudi embassy as some sort of cultural attaché, helping people to get visas, work permits, that sort of thing. Pretty boring job but he always said he really enjoyed living in England. I can’t actually imagine him living in Saudi.”

  “I understand Baz comes from quite a wealthy family?”

  “That’s true but I didn’t need his money. I’m a wealthy woman in my own right. I’m an only child and I inherited more than I can ever spend when my parents died.”

  “What did his parents think of their son marrying you?”

  “Baz admitted they didn’t approve but they were always polite to me and they loved their grandchildren. I didn’t actually see them very much. They came over only rarely and Baz took the kids over there once or twice a year.”

  “I assume your husband didn’t just wake up one day and decide he no longer wanted to live with you? Had you been having problems in your marriage?”

  “You know, the usual thing, we just drifted apart. It turned out we had little in common. He spent too much time working and when he wasn’t working he was playing golf. I felt like a single parent at times.”

  “There was no one else involved?”

  “Not really.”

  “What does not really actually mean?” Powell probed.

  “I had a one night stand with someone and it brought it home to me that I was too young to continue in a loveless marriage. Baz and I hadn’t had sex for months and I suspected he might be having an affair but I had no proof. In fact, the only evidence was that he stopped wanting to have sex with me so I told him I wanted a divorce. He simply said it was impossible.”

  Powell was surprised by her frankness. “So what happened next?”

  “Nothing much really. Baz was a little more considerate and I just had second thoughts, thinking it would be the best for the kids if we tried and stayed together. Three months later he took the kids to see his parents as usual after Ramadan and that was the last time I saw them.” A tear formed at the corner of her eye, which she wiped away with her hand. “Sorry. That was almost twelve months ago.”

  “Don’t apologise. As a parent, I think what he’s done is unforgivable.” Powell still thought of himself as a parent despite Bella’s death. He wondered if that was odd?

  “They went for ten days and he called me the day before they were due back, announced he’d done what I requested and obtained a divorce. In Saudi Arabia it’s very easy for a man to obtain a divorce. Under Sharia law a man has only to say ‘I divorce you’ three times and he is divorced.”

  “Can a woman do the same?”

  Angela laughed. “You have a lot to learn about Saudi Arabia. It is almost impossible for a woman to get a divorce unless the husband agrees.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He told me as Laila was over seven and Karim over nine, he had been given custody and I wouldn’t see them again. Can you believe that once a boy reaches nine and a girl seven, the mother has no parental rights? Under Islamic law the woman’s job is finished!”

  “How old are they exactly?”

  “Karim is ten and Laila is just nine.”

  “It sounds like he had been planning it ever since you mentioned wanting a divorce.”

  “That’s what I believe. I wish I’d gone about things differently. I was very naïve but Baz always seemed so western in his attitudes. I never dreamt for a moment he could do such a thing.”

  “Where were you married?”

  “Dubai.”

  “Why Dubai?”

  “It was like many things in our marriage, a compromise. I am a non-practising Christian. Baz could not marry me in anything resembling a Christian ceremony. If his family were to attend as he wanted, they would not approve of alcohol or men and women mixing. And don’t mention dancing! So he suggested Dubai because it’s a short distance from Saudi and they are far more laid back. So we had the full on traditional Muslim wedding but then his family went back to Saudi and next day I had a second celebration with my family, with plenty of drinking and dancing!”

  “I didn’t realise a Muslim could marry a Christian.”

  “A Muslim man can marry a Christian woman but not the other way around. If you want my opinion, the Muslim religion is basically designed to give men the opportunity to do whatever they want and women just have to toe the line and God, or perhaps I should say Allah, help them if they ever question anything. Do you know women aren’t allowed to travel, work or study without the permission of a male relative? I couldn’t even drive a car by myself the one time when I visited Baz’s parents.”

  Powell drank some of his coffee to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been doing a little checking and it seems Saudi law says what Baz has done is perfectly legal.”

  “So my solicitor informs me and it seems the court order I have, ordering him to return the children, isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. I’ve become quite an expert on these matters. There’s no extradition treaty between us and Saudi Arabia, and they haven’t signed up to the Hague Convention concerning child abduction so I have basically hit a
brick wall. That’s why Brian suggested you may be able to help.”

  “How do you know Brian, by the way?”

  “Our families have always been friends.”

  “Brian discreetly checked with the Saudi embassy and was informed Baz simply requested to return home, which given his length of service in the UK was deemed a perfectly reasonable request. They pointed out he had done nothing wrong.”

  “Nothing wrong for a Saudi man maybe.”

  “By the way, do the children speak much Arabic?”

  “Much better than me. Baz always spoke to them in Arabic from when they were very young so they aren’t quite fluent but it’s pretty good.”

  “Angela, I really would like to help but what you are asking may be impossible.”

  “I realise I am asking a great deal and you would be putting your life in danger but I don’t know where else to turn. I thought of visiting Saudi and confronting Baz’s parents but it turns out it’s virtually impossible for a woman in my position to obtain a visa. I spoke with the Saudi Embassy and they weren’t very helpful. I would need a male family member or someone else in Saudi to sponsor me and that isn’t going to happen. Even if I could get to Saudi, it’s impossible for me to move around the country freely so I would have almost no chance of being successful. It’s driving me mad being stuck here unable to do anything.”

  Angela sounded desperate and Powell believed if he refused to help she would indeed try something foolish by herself, which was surely doomed to failure and could see her end up rotting in a Saudi jail. It was something which wouldn’t sit easily on his conscience.

  “This has to be planned meticulously,” he explained. “I will need access to significant funds…”

  Angela interrupted him by jumping out of the sofa, rushing to him and wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what this means to me.”

  Powell held her silently in his arms for a minute as all her pent up emotion poured out in tears.

  “Our chances of succeeding are not good,” he said, gently pushing her away and looking her straight in the eyes. “All I can do is promise that I will do everything in my power to bring your children home.”

  “That’s all I can ask. Brian told me you were the best man for the job”

  “What else did Brian tell you about me?”

  “He said you would be cautious about taking the job but I shouldn’t worry. You would definitely agree to help in the end.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When Powell returned to the bar, Afina was keen to hear how his meeting had gone.

  “So, are you going to help this woman?” she immediately asked before he even had time to take off his jacket.

  “Yes I am.”

  “I knew you would. You are a good man.”

  Powell had to smile. Afina seemed to have a very high opinion of him, which wasn’t one he always shared. He had simply been unable to refuse Angela Bennett’s desperate and emotional cry for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt of refusing to help and reading in the newspaper she was in a Saudi jail or worse.

  On a practical level it would keep him busy for the next few weeks and stop him dwelling on recent events. He was scared of finding himself with too much free time on his hands because he knew that would be when he would dwell on what had happened to Bella. It had been that way when her mother died and it was a dedication to learning kickboxing which had enabled his to return to some form of normality.

  He knew if Bella had still been alive, he wouldn’t have contemplated something so risky as helping Angela Bennett because he would have hated the thought of something happening to him and leaving Bella on her own. Since her mother died, he had felt an additional responsibility for her upbringing as her sole parent.

  Bella’s death left him with no one to think about but himself. That wasn’t really a healthy way to live your life. He needed something to give a damn about and he’d been touched by Angela’s story. Even though he couldn’t see Bella again, he could try and ensure Angela did get to see her children.

  “I expect you to look after the bar while I am gone,” Powell stated.

  “I should come with you,” Afina suggested. “I can help.”

  “And who would run my bar? I need someone here I can trust.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know I can. Anyway, you couldn’t come to Saudi. It’s a very strict Muslim society. As a woman you could do nothing alone and if we travel together we would risk being charged with immoral behaviour and thrown in jail.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Powell simply nodded his head in response.

  “My God! I had no idea,” Afina responded, evidently shocked. “If I can help in any way without actually visiting the country you must let me know. If you need any research or anything?”

  “Don’t worry, I will be sure to ask for help when I need it.”

  “Please promise to take care,” she pleaded. “I don’t feel ready yet to inherit this bar.” Afina was referring to the fact he had made her the sole beneficiary in his will.

  “I plan to live to a hundred. Everything will be fine and I shall be back before you’ve had time to miss me.” Powell decided to change the subject. “Have you spoken with Mara? How is she doing?” Mara had spent several weeks in hospital recovering from a serious gunshot wound received while saving Afina’s life. She had been in a coma and not certain to recover at first but the prognosis now was she would fully recover.

  “Bored and wanting to leave hospital but the doctors say she must stay a little bit longer,” Afina replied. “She is definitely much better because I have seen her flirting with the nurses. Both the male and female ones!”

  “That sounds like Mara. Where will she go when she leaves hospital?”

  “She is thinking of going back to Romania to recuperate but she plans to come back to Brighton when she is completely recovered.”

  “I assume you have told her about Dimitry?”

  “Yes, in her words, she will not be shedding any tears for the bastard.”

  Powell’s phone rang and he wasn’t surprised Brian hadn’t wasted any time finding out how his meeting with Angela had gone.

  “Hi Brian.”

  “I hear from Angela you’ve agreed to help.”

  It was the first time Powell had heard Brian refer to Angela rather than Mrs Bennett and an uncomfortable thought crossed his mind. Could he have been the one night stand Angela mentioned?

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Powell confirmed. “But it isn’t going to be easy. In fact, it’s very nearly bloody impossible.”

  “Good man. Listen, I should warn you that in the event of anything going wrong you’ll get zero help from our government. We do a huge amount of business with the Saudis. Even more importantly, Saudi are considered vital partners in the fight against terrorism and ISIS in particular. It’s not a boat we ever want to rock.”

  “I understand that but there are a few things you can help with.”

  “Why am I not surprised to hear that!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Powell had arranged to meet Brian for lunch at the same Thai restaurant in Belgravia, where they had rekindled their friendship a few weeks previously, after not having been in touch for nearly twenty years. Powell had given a great deal of thought as to how to confirm where in Saudi the children were living and he was hoping Brian could point him in the direction of some much needed specialist expertise.

  Powell entered the restaurant to find Brian already seated at a table.

  “Good to see you, Powell,” he said, shaking hands. “Glad you’re in one piece. You must tell me all about Bucharest.”

  “To be honest, I hope I’ve seen the back of the place,” Powell replied, as he took his seat.

  The waiter arrived before Powell could add anything further. They ordered a bottle of dry white wine and some water.

  Powell gave a detailed account of his time in Buchare
st while they studied the menu. The wine was delivered and their orders for food taken.

  “To Dimitry,” Brian toasted. “May he rot in hell.”

  Powell tasted the wine and nodded approvingly. “That’s good and probably not cheap.”

  “Meal is on me today. The least you deserve after what you’ve been through.”

  “Thanks, Brian. You know, it’s difficult to believe Dimitry was part of the same human race as the rest of us.”

  “I know what you mean but sadly there are far too many Dimitry types around the world. Trafficking is now as lucrative as the drug trade.”

  “Are the authorities doing enough?”

  “They’ve been slow to respond but I think they are improving, albeit slowly.”

  “Listen, can I ask you to check on Adriana when you have a chance? They have done the right thing and hidden her away somewhere safe but now they won’t let Afina speak with her and she’s getting worried. As you can imagine, Afina’s a bit paranoid. She thinks the police are all corrupt. Can you just check she is okay?”

  “I’ll do my best. How is Afina otherwise?” Brian asked.

  “Making me more and more superfluous at the bar. She catches on quick and works hard.”

  “And does she still have a crush on you?”

  “Maybe a bit but I’m sure it will soon wear off.”

  “And what are your feelings for her?”

  “For god’s sake, Brian, I didn’t come here to be interrogated.”

  “Sorry. You know, rock stars and actors go out with much younger girls all the time.”

  “But I’m neither and she deserves better.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Brian laughed.

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  Powell drank some more of his wine, then said, “Let’s talk about Saudi.”