by Tom Bale
Nothing
from Cassie for a long moment. Then she said, 'Can we
stop, just for a minute?’
Joe found a place to pull in at the bottom of the slip road, bumping
onto a patch of grass directly beneath the flyover. They could hear
the thunderous roar of the traffic overhead.
Cassie leaned across and opened the door, prompting a cry of alarm
from Jaden. She hugged him tight, kissing him gently on the forehead.
“I’m
just going to sit in the front and talk to Joe.’
“I’m hungry,’ he said.
'Okay. I can fix that.’
She fetched a bag from the boot and produced beakers of juice
and a packet of plain biscuits. Once the children were pacified, she
got into the front seat.
'We’d better keep driving,’ Joe said. 'If they’re looking for us
anywhere, it’ll be on the A27. I want to take the back roads.’
'Fine.’
She said nothing else until they had negotiated the roundabout
and were heading roughly north-west on the A283, a single-carriageway
route that tended to be less frenetic than the A27. She put some music
on, adjusting the sound levels so it was louder in the back, ensuring
their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
'I don’t know what Valentin’s playing at, but something’s going on.
The relationship’s been weird ever since Sofia was born. It’s like I
don’t exist as anything other than her mother.’
Joe saw she was blushing and looked away. Not easy to talk about
your sex life, even in coded language.
A few months ago he got really secretive. A couple of times I discovered
he’d been lying about where he was. And he began paying more
attention to things like his hairstyle, his clothes.’
You think he’s having an affair?’
'More than that. I think he’s fallen in love.’ Cassie’s voice went a
little unsteady. 'After we got married, he started dropping hints about
having some fun on the side. With high-class escorts, mainly. He acted
as though it was perfectly normal, like he was expecting me to say,
“Yeah, fine, go right ahead”.’
'But you didn’t?’
'No. I went mental. Then he claimed he was just joking, but I
don’t think he was. That’s when I should have got out, really. I was
naive. Stupid. And I’d just fallen pregnant.’
She shivered. Joe waited while she collected herself.
'This time it’s different. Not just casual sex, but something more
important. And knowing Valentin, he’ll want the best of both worlds.
A wife at his house in Sussex, ready to give him kids whenever he
wants them. And a full-time mistress in London.’
'I see now why you thought the eternity ring was inappropriate.’
'It freaked me out. And the timing … It can’t be a coincidence.’
'What do you mean?’
Almost whispering, she said, 'I’ve been thinking about leaving him.’
You’ve discussed it with Valentin?’
'I wouldn’t dare. The one time I tried explaining how unhappy I
was, he basically told me not to be so stupid. But I was on the phone
to my mum one day and I just lost it. She’s really supportive, but she
also persuaded me to give it another try, as if it’s all going to blow
over.’
'Parents are like that, I suppose,’ Joe said. 'But you don’t think it
will?’
'Not any more. But I told her what I think Valentin is up to, and
I also discussed how I’d arrange things if and when I go. Pretty much
from that moment he’s been ice cold towards me.’
Silence for a second or two. Joe wished he could throw doubt on
what she was saying, but he couldn’t. It was all too plausible.
'He’s listening in on your calls?’
Cassie nodded. 'He’s paranoid about industrial espionage, and I bet
he’s spied on people himself in the past. Why shouldn’t he also spy
on me?’
'If he knows what you’re considering, wouldn’t he just confront
you?’
'Perhaps he thinks there’s more to come. The minute he admits to
eavesdropping, he loses some of his power over me.’ She hesitated,
and took an anxious look over her shoulder. 'Anyway, it isn’t me
running away that bothers him. It’s who I’d take with me.’
'Sofia.’
Yes. She’s the main reason he won’t allow me to leave. He knows
I’d never go without her, and in his view she belongs to him. Therefore
I do, too.’
Joe said nothing. He concentrated on driving. The traffic was light,
the road clear and fast-moving. They were making pretty good time – wherever it was they were going.
Then Cassie said: 'There’s something else. A week or two ago I
overheard him talking to Yuri. I don’t know what they were discussing,
but Yuri asked, “Do you want to kill them?” and Valentin said, “Not
if we can find a better way.”’
'What?’
'That was all I heard. Not if we can find a better way. Then they
realised I was there and clammed up.’
You’ve no idea at all what it was about?’
-'No. I wondered if I’d misheard, but I don’t think so. When he saw
me, Yuri gave me this look . . . Like all he wants is ten minutes alone
in a room with me, you know?’ She shivered again, and rubbed her
arms. 'Sometimes I worry that one day Valentin will let him.’
'Not if I have anything to do with it,’ said Joe. Despite his misgivings,
he decided it was his duty to be straight with her. 'Look, I
hate having to tell you this, but I don’t think they were trying to kidnap
Jaden.’
'What?’
He described his perspective on the abduction. His impression that
Jaden was merely a decoy. 'I think they wanted Sofia. Or maybe you
and Sofia.’
Cassie began to weep, quietly, in a way that didn’t invite him to
offer comfort. She took a tissue from her bag and blew her nose.
'The last few weeks, I’ve been trying to convince myself I’ve
misjudged him. Clinging to the idea that at heart Valentin’s a good
man, not a monster. But it’s a lie. Only a monster could stoop to something
like this.’
'Cass, we don’t know for sure that he’s behind it.’
'I think he is.’
'Okay. But what was he going to do afterwards? If he wanted to
spirit her away he could easily do it from home.’
Yeah, but this way he can deny knowledge. He gets to hold her
somewhere while he negotiates with me. It’s like that saying goes . . .’
'Possession is nine-tenths of the law.’ Joe sighed. “I’m still not
completely sure. I’d like to talk to him.’
'I don’t want to go home,’ Cassie blurted. 'I can’t go back there
tonight.’
'I know. That’s not where we’re going.’
Twenty-Four
The top floor of Dreamscape was dominated by a vast room that ran
nearly the full length of the house. A huge open-plan living space,
furnished to entice prospective buyers with a selection of funky sofas
and rugs. A wall of subtly tinted glass gave a stunning view of the bay,
the still waters
gleaming beneath the sun’s slow descent. As a vantage
point for their current surveillance, it couldn’t be better.
Liam and Priya had watched a motor launch collect four men from
the jetty and transfer them to the majestic-looking yacht moored on
the edge of the deep-water channel. Then the yacht had set off on a
cruise around the harbour, and it still hadn’t returned. For Liam it
meant another frustrating wait, mitigated only by the arrival of the
second team.
A brief call notified him of their approach. Leaving Priya to watch
for the yacht, he hurried downstairs, into the garage. He opened the
doors so they could drive straight in. He had to assume Oliver Felton
was still spying on them. It was making him feel increasingly vulnerable,
and that in turn made him angry. The Felton kid was going to
pay for that.
A Ford Explorer drove in, pulling up alongside the Transit. Liam
hit the button to shut the doors. He took a deep breath. Told himself
he was perfectly calm. It was all good. Everything under control.
First out of the Explorer was Jim Turner. A career criminal in his
early fifties, Turner was a tall, heavyset man with chiselled features
and silver-grey hair. In recent years he’d turned semi-legitimate, setting
up a security company that had been doing well for itself until the
recession hit. Prior to that he’d earned notoriety in the underworld as
a 'taxman’, a villain who specialised in targeting other villains. Even
Liam had to admit it took a special kind of nerve, not to mention a
psychotic temper, to earn a living by torturing and robbing drug
dealers.
So far their working relationship had been tense, to say the least.
Turner had made it clear he regarded Liam as little more than a white
collar sneak thief who should never have been entrusted with the lead
role. Liam saw Turner as an outmoded thug who lacked the brains
or finesse to take part in such an ambitious raid. Safe to say they
wouldn’t be exchanging Christmas cards in future.
Turner shook his head in wonderment as the garage doors rolled
back into place. 'Fucking clever, eh?’
Liam nodded. 'I suppose.’
'I want doors like that, and a pad like this.’ Turner’s gaze alighted
on the Renault Megane, parked beyond Liam’s Transit. 'Whose motor?’
'An estate agent. He was here on the quiet, to meet a woman. We
managed to get rid of her. He wasn’t so lucky.’
Turner’s eyebrows went up. You’re not saying you topped him?’
'Priya did.’
You’re shitting me? Dark horse in more ways than one.’ He
chuckled, looking round. 'So where is our little Paki babe?’
'She’s upstairs. And don’t call her that.’
'What’s it matter? She can’t hear me.’
'It’s unprofessional,’ Liam said. 'For the next few hours we have to
work together. Better if we can all get along.’
'Oh, I dunno,’ said Turner, swaying close and glowering at Liam.
'Nothing like a bit of creative tension to keep you on your toes.’
The other members of the team were climbing out of the Explorer
and examining their surroundings. The driver, Manderson, was a dumb
but loyal associate of Turner’s. He was about forty, a scrawny, dishevelled
man with long greasy hair, bad skin and missing teeth. Tattoos
covered his arms from shoulder to wrist: he’d applied some of them
himself, and it showed. If he had been a dog, Liam thought, he would
have been put down at birth.
From the back seat came Eldon, a short, slender man with absolutely
no physical presence. Softly spoken, with a pale face and thinning
blond hair, he was the sort of man you could lose in an empty room.
But he knew a lot about art and antiques, and he had the contacts to
offload high-end goods with no questions asked. It would be his job
to determine what was worth taking.
The last of the four to emerge, Allotti, was also the most presentable.
He was in his early thirties, brown-haired and wiry, with a slow,
sardonic manner. He had a background in electronics, specifically in
the field of communications. His role was to secure and monitor the
island’s phone network for the duration of the mission.
Liam indicated the Transit. 'All your stuff’s in there. Get it unloaded
and set up inside.’
Allotti nodded unhappily. Sniggering at his displeasure, Turner and
Manderson started wandering towards the inside door, Eldon lagging
just behind. But Liam stopped them.
You three can unload the gas.’
When Liam rejoined Priya in the sunroom she was at the window, a
pair of binoculars in one hand. She didn’t look round until he was
within touching distance.
'Turner’s here,’ he said.
'Okay.’
He stood alongside her and looked out over the bay. The yacht was
back in sight, slowly heading towards them.
'Took their time, didn’t they?’ he muttered.
'It doesn’t matter.’ In the same gentle tone, she added, You’re very
impatient, aren’t you?’
Liam made a dismissive noise, but it was true. He was itching to
get started. The tension was becoming unbearable, especially knowing
the Felton kid could blow the whole operation with a single phone
call. And every minute the barriers were in place they risked having
someone come along and try to use the bridge.
Should have delayed that, maybe . . .
'I’ve told them to bring the gas up,’ he said. 'We’ll stash the body
in here, too.’
Priya nodded. She handed him the binoculars, stepped away from
him and stretched, extravagantly, like a cat. “I’m going to get changed.’
Resisting the temptation to watch her leave the room, Liam lifted
the binoculars and studied the yacht instead. Valentin Nasenko and
his associates were standing out on the deck, talking and pointing in
the direction of Terror’s Reach. Their body language spoke of a more
convivial atmosphere than before. The meeting had gone well.
'Congratulations, gentlemen,’ Liam said to himself. 'Here comes
round two.’
Liam heard Manderson and Eldon trudging up the stairs long before
they materialised, each holding one end of a large propane cylinder.
They set it down carefully on the floor, cursing from the effort.
'Fucking hell . . .’
'How many of them?’ said Eldon.
'We want six up here. Plus the body,’ Liam said.
'Done that,’ came a voice from the hall. Turner strolled in, as
nonchalant as a man can be with a corpse bundled over his shoulder.
He dropped it, unceremoniously, like he was delivering a sack of coal.
Manderson said, You’re not even out of fucking breath.’
Turner jerked his thumb behind him. You dipshits. There’s a lift,
just back along the corridor.’
The two men gaped at him, and then at Liam, as though it was
his fault.
'He’s right. You all saw the floor plans.’
Manderson looked on the verge of rebellion but settled for another
growled expletive. He stomped out, followed by a more chastened
<
br /> Eldon.
'Not chosen for his brains,’ Liam said.
Turner pulled a face. 'He does what he’s told. That’s good enough.’ He surveyed the room, hardly seeming to notice the spectacular views.
Then he nudged the estate agent’s body with his foot.
'So what’s the story?’
'I told you. He tried to get away.’
'And the Pak— the Indian bird stuck him?’
Liam nodded, anticipating Turner’s next question: Where were you?
'The guy had some tart on her way to see him. I had to get both
vehicles in the garage before she turned up. Priya couldn’t do it because
someone might have seen her in the van.’
'Still a bit of a fuck-up, isn’t it?’
Liam held the other man’s gaze throughout a long, challenging
silence.
'I know you don’t like it that I’m in charge,’ he said. 'But that’s
the way it is. Are you gonna risk everything because you can’t deal
with it?’
'I can deal with it. My worry is whether you can deal with it.’
'I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t up to the job.’
Turner merely raised his eyebrows, as if that didn’t necessarily follow.
'So what now . . . boss?’
We get changed.’ Liam gestured towards the yacht. 'Once they’re
back on dry land, we’re good to go.’
Leaving Turner to keep watch, Liam trotted down to the first floor.
Priya was in the bedroom she’d used earlier, but the door was shut.
The kitbag and the toolbox full of weapons had been placed outside
in the hall, a none-too-subtle indication that Liam wasn’t welcome to
join her.
He carried them into the room opposite. It was a guest bedroom,
with a tiny en suite shower room and a minimum of furnishings: just
a small double bed and a chest of drawers.
Liam upended the kitbag on the bed. Their uniforms consisted of
black boiler suits, black ski masks and gloves and a utility belt that
would carry a torch, a Motorola two-way radio and a supply of plasticuffs,
along with a choice of weapons.
Turner came in as he was finishing up. 'They just docked.’
'Good.’
Turner picked up a mask and rubbed the material between his
fingers. 'This’ll itch like crazy. It’s still bloody eighty degrees out there.’
'Can’t be helped. We don’t want the hostages seeing our faces.’
Turner gave a snort. He opened the toolbox and inspected the
contents with a connoisseur’s eye.
