by Zoe Sharp
When she paled but didn’t reply, I said, ‘If these are the same people who took the others, they accepted half their initial demand in the first two cases and the hostages were released unharmed. The problem came when the Benelli family dug their heels in too far, and the kidnappers cut off Benedict’s finger as a means of persuasion. Handling this successfully is a very delicate game, and Parker is an expert.’
Had they made Benedict choose which one? Was that why he’d lost the finger that mattered least to his musical career, or was it purely down to luck?
I didn’t mention the fact that although Manda reported rough treatment during her own captivity, the beating had not gone anywhere near as far as the one delivered to Torquil. The level of violence seemed to be increasing as the perpetrators went on, perhaps as they grew bolder with each successful kidnap. Or had Torquil done something special that the others hadn’t? Despite his unlikely physique, he was into extreme sports, I recalled, and no coward. Had he tried to escape?
The experts reckoned that the best time to get away from potential kidnap was in the first few moments. At that point, you are an object of high value to your captors. They may ultimately kill you if the risk, or the fear of exposure, becomes too great, or they realise they aren’t going to get their money. But at the point of contact they need you demonstrably alive.
After the initial window of opportunity has passed, the recommendation is that you should remain calm and compliant. Resistance is likely to earn punishment, just to keep you manageable. I could not imagine Torquil had taken easily to the concept of absolute obedience.
For most victims, their ultimate survival depends on the skill of the negotiator. Parker was patient and implacable, and had a growing reputation as one of the best. He had even, on occasion, managed to arrange the return of those kidnapped without any money changing hands. According to the statistics, only eleven per cent of hostages are released under those circumstances, and in the last year Armstrong-Meyer had been responsible for more than their share.
If their people had done their homework, the Eisenbergs would be well aware of those figures.
‘Advise us,’ she said at last, shaping it as a command rather than a plea. Her eyes slid to her husband’s stony face and when he offered no immediate objections, she added, ‘Hypothetically speaking, naturally. How would you handle this situation?’
Parker’s expression clearly said he knew there was nothing hypothetical about it, but he answered anyway in an even tone. ‘When they next contact you, it will be by phone—’
‘What makes you so sure?’ butted in the chief lawyer, as if justifying his existence.
Parker nailed him with a studied glance. ‘Experience,’ he said, succinct. ‘They need to gauge your attitude, how far they can push, and they can’t do that any other way. When they make contact,’ he went on, leaving a pointed gap in case the lawyer felt the need to jump in again, ‘you need to tell them you can’t get your hands on the piece in time. You send it to London to be cleaned, I understand?’ There were surprised nods. ‘Don’t be afraid to sound stressed, worried. It’s what they want. You need to make them feel you’re doing everything you can to resolve this, but events are beyond your control. They need to be assured that they have you worried enough to comply in the end, even if they don’t get everything they initially ask for.’
Eisenberg pursed his lips, considering. ‘I have to admit, I hate the idea of giving in to these kind of threats,’ he allowed.
His wife snorted again. I was reminded of Dina’s arrogant white horse, with half the elegance and none of the charm. ‘If it was some damned company takeover, you’d sure as hell manage to pay up with a smile on your face,’ she said in a bitter growl.
‘Offer them a lesser piece from Mrs Eisenberg’s extensive jewellery collection. Something with a value of say, one million, max,’ Parker said, doing his best to ignore the bickering. ‘Tell them it’s a good offer for a couple of days’ work. They know that the longer they have him, the greater the risk they take.’
To an outsider, it must have sounded like Parker was being cheap for the sake of it, but there was a lot more to it than that, even if Nicola Eisenberg’s reaction was one of outrage.
‘You’re suggesting we bargain for my son’s life?’ she said, her tone rising like etched glass.
Parker sighed. ‘Mrs Eisenberg, suppose you were … buying a property? You go in with a crazy low offer, expecting the owners to throw it right back at you. Instead, they fall over themselves to sign the contract. First reaction?’
Nicola Eisenberg frowned for a moment, but I could hear her brain whirring from across the room. ‘That there must be a catch,’ she admitted at length. ‘That maybe there was something wrong with the place that we’d missed.’
‘And if there’s nothing wrong with it?’
‘I guess I’d assume the vendors were in a hole financially, and we could have gotten a better deal,’ she said, sliding a sideways look at the lawyers. ‘I’d stall, look for legal loopholes that would allow us to revise our offer, then nail their balls to the wall.’
The lawyers, all male, shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Parker waited, his expression bland, for the penny to finally drop, saw the second that it did. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’m not suggesting a bargain just for the sake of it, or because I have any intention of saving you money. I’ve had a lot of experience. I know how these people think and react. And, trust me, paying up their full initial demand, without a flicker, will not be a wise decision for your son’s safety.’
Eisenberg, however, merely glared at his wife. ‘You think I can’t handle this?’ he demanded. ‘I handle multimillion-dollar deals every day of the week. All we need is for the damn girl to make the drop.’
‘Oh, I know precisely what you handle—’
‘Mr Eisenberg!’ Parker cleared his throat. ‘You’re an acknowledged expert in your field,’ he went on. ‘If I was looking to buy out one of my competitors, I’d want you on my team, but this, sir, is a whole different ball game …’
He didn’t need to finish.
Eisenberg looked like he was still going to argue, but his wife put a hand on his arm, suddenly, squeezing the cloth of his six-thousand-dollar suit with impossibly long fingernails painted blood-red. He glanced at her, the taut lines of her face, and a short silent battle of wills ensued. When it was over, his shoulders seemed more rounded than before. Nicola Eisenberg frowned, as if she’d rather fight with him in public than see him slouch.
‘OK, OK,’ he said hollowly. ‘In that case, Mr Armstrong, I’d like to retain your professional services.’ He made a kind of general see-to-it gesture to the lawyers, who ducked their heads. He spread his hands in a gesture of submission, or maybe he was just trying to shake off his wife. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We’ll see what information can be gleaned from the DVD,’ Parker said. ‘See if we can get any leads as to where your son is being held and formulate a recovery plan, just in case.’
‘I will not sanction any action that might endanger him,’ Nicola Eisenberg said.
‘It would be a last resort only,’ Parker agreed. ‘I assume you’ve considered calling in the FBI?’
That gained him a firm head shake. ‘You heard what they said. How could we be certain there’d be no leaks, in an organisation that size?’
Parker ignored the slur to the Bureau’s integrity, asking instead, ‘Have you interviewed your son’s security personnel?’
Eisenberg grunted. ‘Only to fire their asses,’ he said sharply. ‘Why – you think they might have had a hand in all this?’
‘If they did, then keeping them on the payroll, where you can keep an eye on them – apply a certain amount of pressure if it came to that – might have been useful.’ Parker gave a grim smile. ‘And, if they turn out to be innocent, you could be assured of one thing – they would never let anything happen to the boy again.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
Parker�
��s office seemed very empty after Eisenberg’s hordes had departed. I watched the door close behind the last of the assistants’ assistants and noted the way Parker’s own shoulders dropped a little.
‘They’re the kind of high-profile clients we want to attract,’ he said ruefully, then shook his head. ‘But I don’t mind admitting there’s a lot about this job makes my spine itch.’
Me, too.
‘Hey, look on the bright side,’ I said, aiming for a light tone. ‘At least they’re not likely to haggle over the fees.’
Parker rubbed the side of his temple and gave me a weary smile. ‘You’d be amazed. These people didn’t get to be rich by letting go of their money too easy.’
I waited a beat, then asked, ‘Why didn’t you give them Torquil’s PDA?’
He let his arm drop. ‘I guess it’s partly because I don’t entirely trust them,’ he murmured, ‘and partly because I have a vested interest in making sure they don’t try and screw us around on this one.’ And there was something abruptly intense and intent in his eyes. ‘Sean’s relying on me to look out for you.’
But I remembered that last dance, the night of the charity auction, and swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable, gauche, and unable to find anything remotely useful to do with my hands. I busied them collecting up some of the discarded coffee cups from the centre table, putting them on a tray next to the coffee pot. And either because my heart or my hands were clattering, I didn’t hear Parker cross the room until he was very close behind me.
‘Have you been to see him?’ he asked.
I turned round too fast, found him too close. ‘I was going to slip over now, before I go back and take over from McGregor,’ I said. ‘Why – have you?’
‘Yesterday.’ He hesitated. ‘Charlie, I’ve been talking to the hospital, and we may have some tough decisions to make, real soon, concerning Sean—’
I held up my hands, tried to keep the desperation out of my voice. ‘Parker, I know. I do. But … does it have to be now – while we’re in the middle of all this?’
His lips twisted but there was no humour in them. ‘I seem to remember having a conversation very like this with you, one time before.’
‘I remember,’ I said softly. ‘And the same answer fits then and now – when this is over.’
Gallantly, he didn’t remind me how badly that decision had turned out. Instead, he nodded, stepped back, and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not when he let the subject go – for the moment, anyway.
‘I don’t like the fact the kidnappers asked for you specifically,’ he said. His tone was businesslike again, but he was frowning. ‘It smacks of vendetta.’
‘If it’s the same crew who tried for Dina at the riding club, maybe I pissed them off more than I realised by getting in their way,’ I suggested.
‘But you said yourself they were amateurs,’ Parker argued. ‘Everything about this one – the timing, the fake email – speaks of professional involvement.’
‘The guy with the Taser did not look as though this was his first time out, that’s for sure.’
‘It’s unfortunate Eisenberg got rid of Torquil’s close-protection guys so fast,’ Parker said. ‘Whoever took the kid must have been watching him for days, maybe weeks beforehand. One of the team might have remembered a face, a vehicle, that didn’t seem to be an overt threat at the time, but in retrospect …?’
‘I would have sworn Dina wasn’t being watched, either, but somebody still made a play for her, even if they did make a mess of it.’
‘Seems they’ve gotten better with practice.’
‘Yeah,’ I muttered. I moved away, restless, gathered up the last of the cups. Parker lifted them out of my hands with an impatient sigh.
‘C’mon, Charlie, there is no way you are to blame for any of this,’ he said, his voice quiet but sharp, like the snapping of a twig in dry air. ‘Eisenberg’s guys let the kid go down onto the beach unprotected. You did your job, but they sure as hell didn’t do theirs. You could not have prevented Torquil being taken without leaving Dina vulnerable. For all you knew at the time, that’s exactly what the kidnappers were hoping for.’
I stepped round him and sank into one of the client chairs. ‘I know,’ I said, staring down at my hands. ‘But still …’
My train of thought trailed off as I caught sight of something pale cream stuffed down the side of the leather seat cushion. I pulled it out, found a gossamer-fine scarf that matched Nicola Eisenberg’s suit, and realised this was where she’d been sitting.
Parker raised an eyebrow, and almost on cue came a knock on the door. He called for the visitor to come in, and the door was opened by Nicola Eisenberg’s bland bodyguard. His principal walked through and gave him a meaningful nod. He stepped back outside the door and shut it again behind him.
‘Ah,’ she said, seeing the scarf dangling from my hand. ‘I see you found it.’
‘What can we do for you, Mrs Eisenberg?’ Parker asked, with no loading in his voice, but at the same time making it clear that he knew she’d engineered this excuse to return.
She had the grace to look momentarily disconcerted, but it was quickly replaced by her more familiar imperious manner.
‘I want you to keep me informed of the negotiations – separately from my husband,’ she said, taking the proffered scarf without looking at me directly, and tucking it into her handbag.
Parker gave her a calm stare. She stared back.
‘That is a somewhat unusual request,’ he said at last. ‘May I ask the reason for it?’
Her chin lifted, still haughty. ‘No, you may not.’
‘In that case, ma’am, I regret that as it’s your husband who has engaged the services of this agency, he is officially our client. I report to him. I’m sure—’
She scowled, unused to being thwarted. ‘I’m concerned he may not have my son’s best interests at heart,’ she cut in.
Parker’s eyes flicked to mine. With every appearance of innocence, I asked, ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with Torquil’s skills as a budding … cinematographer, would it?’
‘What?’ Her response held frustrated confusion rather than outrage. ‘What are you talking about?’
Parker walked back to his desk, slid open the central drawer, and took out Torquil’s PDA. He powered it up, went through the menu, hit ‘Play’ and put the PDA down on the desktop, swivelling it round so Nicola Eisenberg had no doubts about the content of the video clip. I was relieved that he’d turned off the sound.
Watching her face, I saw recognition of the device, and from the way she leant over, squinting at the small screen, that she was too vain to admit to a need for reading glasses. Perhaps that was why it took her a moment longer than it should have done to identify the who, what, where, but if I was expecting shame, I was disappointed.
Instead, she looked rather self-satisfied, as if we were seeing her at her athletic best. I got the feeling she would have found it far more embarrassing to have been snapped without make-up, in old workout sweats, than indulging in an energetic threesome in such luxurious surroundings.
‘Well, it’s nice to see all that damned exercise pays off,’ she said, reminding me all of a sudden of Caroline Willner.
‘It would seem that your son made this recording while you were on your recent vacation in the Bahamas,’ Parker said. ‘It was sent to his PDA by remote feed, on the night of the charity auction at the country club.’
‘Ah … yes,’ Nicola Eisenberg said, as if, had he not narrowed down the precise date, she would have struggled to remember the experience among many others. Her gaze sharpened. ‘How did you get this?’
‘Torquil dropped it – yesterday morning on the beach,’ I said, and explained about the messages Parker had left in his attempts to return it. ‘Your husband didn’t ask for it, so it … slipped our mind,’ I said mildly, receiving a surreptitious wink from my boss by way of response.
‘We understand that Torquil may also have been recording your husba
nd’s … activities on board the yacht,’ Parker said. ‘How would he react if Torquil threatened to go public with the footage?’
She laughed, a high brittle note. ‘Oh, my dear Mr Armstrong, it would never have come to that. Brandon would most likely have patted him on the head, praised his ingenuity, and given him a raise in his allowance.’
‘Really?’ Parker said. ‘And yet Mr Eisenberg seems to set such store by his … reputation.’
‘We have an understanding, my husband and I,’ she said, letting her eyes trail up and down Parker’s lean suited figure with insolent appraisal. ‘He doesn’t interfere in my life and I don’t interfere in his.’ She moved round the desk towards him, ran a predatory finger under his lapel and murmured throatily, ‘Perhaps that’s something we could discuss – say, over dinner.’
‘Mrs Eisenberg,’ Parker said easily, standing his ground, ‘right now it would seem you are the one who does not have your son’s best interests at heart.’
When she looked startled, I leant over and said helpfully, ‘What he means is, if you keep that up he’ll tell both you and your husband to get stuffed – you can deliver the ransom yourself.’
She threw me a vicious glare, face tightening unattractively, but snatched her hand back and whirled away.
Parker’s face remained neutral, but I saw the flat-out amusement in his eyes. He let her take three or four huffy strides towards the door.
‘When you said your husband would reward your son’s blackmail attempts, is that because he’s always done so in the past?’ he asked, coolly objective. ‘Is that why he took this kidnapping so lightly at first?’
The questions stopped her dead. She turned slowly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Torquil has a generous allowance, but you know how kids are these days. He always wanted more.’
I thought of the elaborate and extravagant birthday party, the Bentley, the use of the family yacht and the executive jet, and wondered what ‘more’ was out there to be had.
‘So, you let him blackmail you,’ I said slowly. ‘And when his security reported that he’d been kidnapped, you assumed this was a variation on that theme.’
