Soul to Take

by Clare Revell

  The gate was open, and Zander headed into the garden. That was in a total state with signs of a bonfire. He wondered if SOCO would find the remains of clothes there. He peeked through the kitchen window, but the room was empty. So was the lounge.

  Nothing. Dejection replaced the hope and anticipation that had filled him the moment they’d left the station. He’d never find her. This was just another false lead, false hope. He looked down at his feet, kicking the gravel. There was a grating and just to the right of that, a window.

  Did this place have a basement? Taking several steps to one side, Zander lay down on the ground and then slid forwards so he could peer through the window. Isabel sat tied to something on the wall. Farrell sat in front of her, his back to the window. Carefully he rolled away, then stood and made his way back to the car.

  DS Painter got out of the car and greeted him. “Well?”

  “She’s there.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to ring her.”

  “The Guv said to wait.”

  “So you keep saying, but the Guv isn’t here. Right now, Isabel’s alive. She may not be by the time back up gets here.” He dialled Isabel’s phone, praying he was doing the right thing.

  ~*~

  Isabel glanced at the phone on the windowsill as it rang. “You’d better answer it. I’d go, but I’m a little tied up right now.”

  Farrell scowled. “Let it ring.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Zander.”

  “It’ll be for you in that case.” The call ended and restarted. “He’ll just keep on until you answer.”

  “Fine.” He rose, marched to the window sill, and grabbed the phone. “I’ll put it on speaker, and you answer. Just be very careful what you say.” He touched the phone and nodded to her.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Isabel?” Zander sounded worried and irritated at the same time.

  “Hello, stranger. How are you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. You have the entire squad a little worried, vanishing like that. Are you all right?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “A little tied up, you know how my headaches go. They knock me out for days.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t call in, and you know how much the Guv hates it when we don’t give him a minute to minute account of our whereabouts.”

  “Apologise for me.” Isabel looked at Farrell. She had to let Zander know where she was without her captor twigging. “I would have done, but as I said, I’m a little tied up.”

  “It happens.”

  “I did have a weird dream though, for which I blame the meds.”

  Farrell wandered over to the small window under the ceiling and climbed onto a chair. He peered through.

  “Oh?” Zander asked.

  “Yeah. I was running along the river through the woods, like we did the other day, only this time I got chased by a bear.”

  Zander laughed. “Seven of them?”

  Relief filled her. “Yes.”

  “I had the same dream.”

  “There were two pigs as well. Well one pig and a sow…” She gasped as something sharp dug into her neck.

  “I’d shut up if I were you,” Farrell hissed.

  “Is, is there someone there with you?” Zander asked.

  Farrell ended the call. “I suppose you think that was clever.” He grabbed her hair and tugged.

  “He’ll…call back.” Tears of pain stung her eyes.

  “Good. He can listen as you die.”

  ~*~

  Zander groaned as the call ended. Car doors slammed somewhere behind him as backup finally arrived.

  DI Holmes strode to his side. “Zander. The hostage negotiator and ARU are on the way.”

  “I’m not waiting.” He stabbed the redial button on the phone in his hand.

  DI Holmes rolled his eyes. “Put it on speaker.”

  “Hello?” Isabel’s voice had more pain in it than a few minutes previously.

  “You do know it’s rude to hang up on people, right?” Zander began. “Did your mother never tell you that?”

  “She never really told me much of anything,” she replied. “She worked a lot.”

  Zander frowned. Was she playing opposites? He knew for a fact her mother never worked. “I see. So you’re all right, then?”

  “Never better. There’s absolutely no need for you to come over.”

  DI Holmes reached for the phone.

  Zander’s frown deepened. “Uncle Gee wants a word. Think he’s a little miffed that you never call or write.”

  “Tell him I’m fine. I’m with a friend.”

  DI Holmes snatched the phone and took it off speaker. “Isabel…”

  Zander shook his head and bit his tongue. He turned to face the house. There were back and front doors and a side gate. His mind whirled. The best way in would probably be the front.

  A scream echoed from the phone.

  “Isabel, are you all right?” DI Holmes asked.

  Zander snatched the phone back and put it to his ear. “OK, Farrell. Let’s just do this properly shall we? Just you and me.”

  Farrell laughed. “I was wondering when you’d be man enough to talk to me.”

  Zander shrugged, pacing as he spoke. “Oh, you know how it goes. Protocol and the book, not to mention my boss, say I can’t do this at all. We have to wait for ARU, more back up, and a trained hostage negotiator. But that takes time. Which we both know we don’t have much of.” He glanced at his watch. “You gave us six hours?”

  “And you have an hour left,” Farrell told him.

  “Exactly. Besides, if I’m honest, I never actually finished reading the book on how to negotiate and successfully free the hostages. I also failed that part of the sergeant’s exam.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, because I believe that you, and I can sit down like grownups and talk this out. Man to man. You have Is, and I want her back. So tell me what your price is.”

  “My price?”

  “Yes.” Zander knew by the change of tone in Farrell’s voice, that he’d got the man’s attention now. “Your price. She’s got to be worth something right? So tell me what you want in exchange for her and I’ll get it for you?”

  “Anything?”

  Zander nodded. “Yes, anything.”

  “Zander, don’t,” Isabel said.

  “Shut up, Is. I’m working here.”

  “Shut up?” she repeated. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

  Zander wished she could see his face, about as much as he’d love to see the expression on hers right now. He turned his back on a furious DI Holmes. Thing was he knew this was one sure fire way to get Farrell to talk to him. “Yes, I did. Now be a good little girl, shut up, and let the big boys talk.”

  Farrell laughed. “I like your style, Zander. May I call you Zander?”

  “Sure, why not?” Zander paused as DI Holmes waved at him and tried to grab the phone. “I’ll have to call you back. There’s a call on my other phone I really need to take.”

  “Really? More important than this?” Farrell asked astounded.

  “Unfortunately. It’s my uncle and you know how family get when you don’t pick up. I’ll be two minutes. Three at the most. Don’t hurt her while I’m gone.”

  “I’m not making any promises I can’t keep.”

  Zander ended the call. He glared at DI Holmes. “What?”

  “You need to wait for a trained negotiator.” The Guv was starting to sound like a stuck record.

  “I can’t do that. I know the bloke. He’s infatuated with Isabel, and right now he’s talking to me.”

  “And you’re belittling Isabel.”

  “She knows I don’t mean it, but it’s what Farrell understands. That’s how he treats all women, as objects he can own, do what he wants with and destroy. But he’ll want to humiliate her first. That gives me time to get her out.” He paused. “Besides, if it were your wife in there, what would you do?”

  DI Hol
mes sighed. “What I did before, against my DI’s explicit instructions. Rush in like a bull in a china shop, guns blazing.”

  Zander raised an eyebrow. “Guns blazing? Literally?”

  “Long story. Remind me to tell you some time.”

  Zander nodded. “Oh, I will.” He pointed to a side entrance. “They are in a basement at the back of the house. There’s a window at ground level. He’s got her chained to the wall and he was sitting next to her. If I can keep him talking, maybe even get in there, we have a chance. If he’s talking to me, he won’t kill her.”

  “You’re too much like I used to be,” DI Holmes said, a wry smile on his face. “You have half an hour, and then someone else takes over.”

  ~*~

  “He hung up on me.” Farrell slammed the phone down on the table.

  “He’ll call back,” Isabel said, desperately hoping the screen wasn’t smashed to smithereens. She looked up from where she lay on the floor. He’d knocked her off the chair in a fit of temper whilst talking to DI Holmes. “Zander’s probably getting it in the neck for not negotiating properly.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. He said that far too much, but there was no arguing with the man. She eased her wrist against the cuffs. “Could you at least tie me so my wrist isn’t above my head? My arm is going numb.”

  “You’ll run again?”

  She glanced down at her bruised and swollen ankle. “I hardly think so. Please?”

  He yanked her to her feet and untied her. Shoving her onto the chair again, he tied her wrists tightly behind her back. “All right now?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He muttered something under his breath, which Isabel wouldn’t ask him to repeat. She hadn’t heard all of it, but enough to get the gist.

  Farrell dropped into the chair in front of her. “Now you will finish your confession.”

  Isabel’s phone rang. “You’d better get that,” she told him.

  “And if I don’t want to?”

  “Armed police will rush in with guns ready to fire, and I really don’t think either of us wants that.” She angled her head and stared at him. “Or maybe you’re just suicidal? Surely you’d rather gloat in prison over how you got one over on the cops? It’d increase your street cred no end.”

  Farrell’s eyes glinted.

  Isabel was getting to him. “Or maybe not. Depends if you’re a man or a coward.” She pushed a little harder. “Actually, they say that all bullies are cowards, so I guess that makes you a coward.”

  Her head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and stars swam before her eyes. But it was worth it.

  20

  Zander’s phone rang out. “Oh, come on, pick up. I know you’re there.” He dialled again. Finally the call answered with silence. “Is, it’s me.”

  “This isn’t Izzy,” Farrell snarled. “What do you want?”

  “To talk, that’s all.”

  “I’m kind of busy. Things to do. Sinners to confess. People to read the last rites to, that kind of thing.”

  “All I want is to talk. There must be something you want in exchange for her.”

  “Like what? A helicopter? Safe passage to an island paradise? Isn’t that what negotiators always offer?”

  “I don’t know.” Zander glanced behind him as more vans arrived and armed police swarmed towards him. “What I do know is we’re running out of time. Your clock is ticking. Right now I’m the only thing standing between you and the cavalry. I can get you any reasonable thing you want. Just let Is go. Please.”

  “Begging now?” Farrell laughed. “OK. Anything I want. And you deliver it in person and alone.”

  Zander put the handset on speaker. “I can do that. What do you want?”

  “Very well. I want five tubs of raspberry ripple ice-cream, five jam roly-polys, and two million quid in pound coins.”

  Zander raised his eyebrows. “Really? Anything else?” He failed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  DI Holmes shook his head in sheer disbelief and turned to talk to the team of armed officers behind him. An older officer in a HRT shirt joined them.

  Zander assumed that stood for Hostage Rescue Team.

  “Yes. An eighteen-carat silver spoon to eat it with.”

  “Hah!” Zander scoffed. “You do realise that isn’t possible? Silver isn’t measured in carats, unless you want a gold-plated silver spoon.”

  “Zander!” DI Holmes yelled. “Enough.”

  “Oh, and Izzy wants two tickets for Wicked on the West End. Front row seats, backstage passes, the whole shebang.”

  Zander reined in his temper. “Look, I may have flunked hostage negotiation 101, but there is absolutely no need to extract the Michael.” He hung up and spun around to face the house. He scowled. He had to get in there.

  “And you wonder why I told you to wait!” DI Holmes tone was a bit more than mildly irritated now, but quiet, and that was more dangerous than him yelling. “This is DS Robin Ward. He’ll be taking over the negotiation.”

  “Farrell is simply being childish,” Zander said. “He’ll call back.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do, Guv.” Zander turned to face his boss. “He’s getting off on this feeling of power and control he has over Is. His twisted sense of humour and purpose means he has to see this through to the end or lose face, and he won’t let that happen.”

  “Really?”

  “Think about it, sir. Each murder is done in a very public way and public place. You really think he’ll go out like this? With a whimper and not a bang? And before his deadline is up? He’ll drag her out here and kill her in front of everyone.” He glanced over his shoulder as a news van pulled up. “And probably he’ll do it live on TV unless I get in there and stop him.”

  ~*~

  Isabel shook her head and gazed at Farrell. “Seriously? Ice-cream and jam roly-poly. Is that all I’m worth?”

  “You forgot the two million.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffed. “In pound coins. You have any idea how heavy that will be to carry? You’ll need a whole armoured truck and that’s if the bank has that many. Which I doubt.”

  Farrell scowled. “Notes can be marked, coins can’t.”

  “Oh, like they won’t be able to track the armoured truck either? Call him back. Behave like a grownup rather than a child who’s had his fun curtailed. Because right now all you’re doing is throwing your toys out of the pram. You’re leaving them no options here. The ARU will bust down that door, shoot first, and if you’re lucky enough to survive, ask questions later. You’re better than this.”

  “Maybe I’m not. Maybe I should just kill you now.”

  She shook her head. “You won’t. You and I both know that. Just call him back.”

  Farrell slowly dialled making sure the phone was on speaker.

  “Hello,” Zander answered.

  “Izzy said we should talk like grownups,” he said scowling at her.

  “Hmm, funny because my boss said the same thing. So maybe we should. How about I bring some coffee?”

  “Drugged coffee?” Farrell muttered.

  “Well that would be pretty stupid of me,” Zander said. “I’m trying to promote trust here, not take you out with coffee. Besides, that would just be a waste of perfectly good coffee. I can either get takeout or bring a sealed jar, milk and sugar. You provide the cups.”

  “Zander!” DI Holmes didn’t sound happy.

  “Sir, I have this.”

  Farrell grinned, finding it amusing. “I will kill her if you try anything.”

  “I’m sure you will. And I won’t. It’ll be me, alone, with the coffee and milk. What do you say? You want anything else?”

  “The money.”

  “We’re working on that,” Zander said. “The bank doesn’t carry that much in coins, so it’ll take a while.”

  “And an armoured truck,” Isabel added. “So you’ll need to take the GPS locator out of it, as well. And d
on’t forget the ice-cream.”

  “I’ll bring that too. There’s a shop just over the road.”

  “Five minutes,” Farrell said. “No longer and don’t bring your phone with you.” He ended the call.

  Isabel shook her head, frustrated and tired, not to mention in agony with her ankle. “Do you really want a shootout in here? Because you keep winding them up like that and that is precisely what you’ll end up with.”

  “Let them try, darlin’. I have you as a shield.”

  ~*~

  Zander pulled off his jacket and took the bullet proof vest from the ARU officer. It barely fitted over the brace he was already wearing under his shirt. Still, he’d be double protected now, which had to be a good thing.

  “I don’t want you to do this,” DI Holmes tried arguing again.

  “I know, but he’s expecting me. I can do this.” He handed over his phone. “He said to leave this here.”

  “Then you wear a wire.”

  “He’ll know.”

  “No, he won’t.” The ARU officer pointed to the vest. “It’s hidden in there. Pictures and audio are sent to the laptop in the van. You’re welcome to come and watch, sir.”

  DI Holmes nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  Zander took the tiny earpiece and put it in his left ear. “So I’ll be able to hear you?”

  “Yes.”

  Another officer came over. “Here you go. Ice-cream, jam roly-poly, coffee and milk.”

  “Thank you.” Zander took the bag of shopping. “I can do this, Guv. Farrell isn’t your typical bad guy. The book won’t work with him. I have to rewrite it as I go along.”

  “Very well, just be careful.”

  “I will,” Zander said. “He’s up to something.”

  “He won’t get the money so easily.”

  “I know. I’ll stall as long as I can. He won’t want to count it anyway, so maybe we can short-change him or something. That’s if we can actually get hold of that much.” He walked up the front path to the door, his stomach turning over like crazy.

  Maybe the Guv had a point. Perhaps he was an idiot to do this. The sensible thing would be to turn around and let the hostage negotiator take over. But he wasn’t doing that. His partner’s life was in danger and he had to get her out. Put right his failure to protect her earlier.