“We’ve got at least five hours more driving and it gets dark in just over an hour. We’re going to have to stop somewhere if we don’t want to drive all night. And we’ll have trouble with the kid if we’re not careful. He’s going to wake up and I don’t want to be ferrying him around in the dark, he’s too valuable.”
“Let me worry about the driving and the kid, he’s in my hands. I’ll decide when and where we stop, or if we do. Just shut up and sit there and be ready to be useful at the border crossing.” Coetzee’s patience was already wearing thin, since he’d been forbidden to smoke his cheroots by both Blethin and Nwosu and he became more and more aware of how much he’d come to depend on the nicotine fix. He bit into a spearmint Chiclet and drove towards the first toll booth at Stormvoël.
Marbella, Spain
Espinoza seemed preoccupied. He turned to Jenny. “Could we have a word in private?”
Emma said, “I need to go upstairs anyway. You can talk as much as you like. I hope it’s nothing bad.”
Espinoza smiled. “Don’t worry, Emma. I’m a little confused and I need to ask Jenny something.”
When she had left the room, he said, “Jenny, as you know, my skill in detection is in identifying the motive and then working from that to find the culprit or culprits. It’s the only way I know how to work. On this occasion, I’m faced with conflicting facts which are confusing the motive. Let me explain.” He began pacing the room, his spectacles in his hand, a frown of concentration on his face.
“Firstly, we know, or at least we believe, that the threat of publicising the details of Leo’s birth is the kidnapper’s prime stock in trade. It means that Emma can’t go to the authorities and will be obliged to negotiate his return. It’s a very clever trap.
“We also know that only someone who had knowledge of that fact and also knew about the football trip could have planned and carried out the abduction.
“Because of the number of participants, the complex arrangements needed to kidnap Leo and the sophisticated communications set-up, the perpetrators must have invested a considerable amount and will expect a large return on that investment. That’s where the motive doesn’t stand up. Emma isn’t in a position to pay any kind of reward and she can’t go to anyone to find the money, because she can’t disclose the reason.
“Finally, we are very short of suspects. In fact, I have really no confidence in progressing in that direction until I clarify the motive clearly in my mind.”
He stopped walking and faced her. “Do you agree with my précis of the facts?”
“Of course, but I don’t know how to help you clarify the motive if that’s what you expect. I’m just as confused as you are.”
“Then you’re going to have to trust me completely. Can I ask you a very personal question?”
“If it helps to get Leo back, of course you can.”
He paused, trying to find the best way to phrase his interrogation. “When we met two years ago, I believe you and Leticia had inherited a very large amount of money, some of which was stolen from you by the murderer, d’Almeida.”
Jenny just nodded and he continued. “Are you still a very wealthy woman?”
She reflected a moment. “By most people’s standards, I suppose I am.”
“So, can you see what I am getting at? The reason for this abduction?”
When she still didn’t respond, he said, “We know that Emma is, what do you call it? ‘A starving writer’. At any rate she doesn’t have a fortune that could be targeted by criminals of this kind. Criminals who have obviously done their homework and discovered an interesting combination.”
“What combination?”
“That Emma has a secret that must be kept silent, the truth about Leo’s birth. And that she has a sister who has a fortune that could pay for that silence.”
Jenny sat up in shock. “You mean you think Leo was kidnapped to blackmail Emma so I would pay a ransom to get him back?”
This time it was Espinoza who said nothing. He looked intently at Jenny, waiting for her to join together the dots, as he had done.
“But that would mean there’s someone who knows about Leo’s birth, their trip to South Africa, that she’s my sister and about my inheritance. It’s absurd.”
“Why is it absurd, Jenny?”
“Because we’ve got precisely two suspects and neither of them could possibly have known I even exist.”
“Not necessarily, but that’s a different question, opportunity. What we’re trying to identify right now is motive and there’s no doubt in my mind that the motive is money, a lot of money. And the only person who has a lot of money is you.”
He waited while Jenny sat quietly, putting together his jigsaw puzzle in her mind, finally coming to the same conclusion as him. Then he asked, “Has anything occurred recently that has affected your fortune, Jenny? Any change of circumstances or event that would change your wealth or bring it to the knowledge of a wider group? A new person or persons?”
Her thoughts jumped back to January and her trip to Geneva; The twelve million dollar settlement with Klein Fellay, her visit to Ramseyer, Haldemann for the first time in two years, the new accounts with the Banque de Commerce. She moved nervously in her chair.
“So there is something. Do you want to tell me about it?”
She explained the year-long lawsuit and the eventual settlement, without giving any further details. Leticia had signed the documents for the Trust account, a little reluctantly, it had appeared to her, and their new individual accounts with Mme Aeschiman were also now operative. She didn’t mention the diamonds, although she had fleetingly thought about them when she read the first message confirming Leo’s abduction. But it was fleeting, because the diamonds were not hers to sell or barter and would never be disclosed unless some kind of disaster struck Leticia’s family. She merely said, “You’re right. There’s a lot of money involved and it has already caused us many problems.”
“And I’m afraid it will cause further problems, to Emma and Leo and yourself, until we resolve this matter.”
Jenny frowned. Silly woman, she berated herself. It should have been obvious to me. Those cursed Angolan diamonds. This inheritance has already caused deaths and tragedy for so many people and now it’s caused the abduction of my nephew. Poor Emma. Leo was taken just because I came into a fortune.
Aloud, she said, “You’re right. I should have seen it before and I didn’t, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense. Pedro, I have to resolve this. We have to resolve it. It’s my responsibility and you’ve got to help me get Leo back for Emma. Whatever it takes.”
“And we will, Jenny. Between us we’ll get Leo back, preferably without making a pauper of you in the process.”
“So, what’s the next step?”
“We’ve got to explain this to Emma and see if it throws up any other possible suspects. Let’s call her back down.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Mpumalanga, South Africa
Leo was awakened by the sound of a car door being banged shut. He didn’t know it, but they were at the Kranskop toll plaza, about one hundred thirty-five kilometres north of Pretoria. Coetzee had dropped the coins for the toll machine onto the road and had to climb out to retrieve them. He blamed the nicotine withdrawal for giving him the shakes and making his fingers feel like sausages. He’d driven for the last two hours from Pretoria without saying a single word, the toll road through Mpumalanga slipping by in the darkening evening at one hundred twenty kilometres an hour. He didn’t want to get pulled over for speeding with an unconscious boy in the back of the car.
He was feeling more and more isolated the further from Joburg they drove as he worried about the situation he was in. Nwosu had brought his most charming personality with him, chatting away in a friendly, sarcastic manner with Blethin, making a new best friend. Coetzee knew he was being set up and he just had to wait it out. He wound the window up and pushed the gear lever into drive.
Now Leo could hea
r car klaxons hooting from behind and someone say, “Get a fucking move on Coetzee! You’ll have a mob of road-ragers after us if you don’t get moving.” Nwosu was enjoying the security chief ’s discomfort. He was in no hurry, biding his time until the right moment came. Then he would execute the Voice’s instructions and ensure they wouldn’t come looking for him when he went AWOL.
The car pulled away and Leo lay still, assessing his surroundings. He was lying on and under a blanket, obviously in the back of the car. It smelled clean, but there was a faint aroma of petrol fumes. He carefully pulled the blanket from over his head and looked around. It was pitch black, but he worked out that his body was in the boot and his legs were bent back and up around a flat seat. He was wearing a safari shirt and jeans, they fitted him, so probably his own clothes, he figured, but no socks or shoes. He could feel his bare feet against each other. His head was much clearer than the last time he’d been drugged and he wondered what time it was. He felt his wrist. Good! They’d replaced his watch. He put it right in front of his eyes, but couldn’t see the face. It had to be after five thirty, because he knew it got dark then.
He heard another voice, it was Coetzee, the security man, if that’s what he really was. “I’m going to come off the highway in Polokwane. That’s about another hour, so we should get there by seven. We can get something to eat then decide if we continue tonight or stay in a motel. I’m not keen on arriving at the Zimbabwe border at midnight.”
“Check on the boy, Blethin. He should be awake by now, unless you’ve killed the poor bastard. You’d better not have. His mother will be well pissed off with you if you do.” It was the first man’s voice again, laughing softly.
“I’ve been checking him regularly, Sergeant. I check the pulse on his ankle, since I can’t easily reach his wrist. It’s called the posterior tibial artery, if you want to know.” Leo recognised the doctor’s voice with its accent. He pulled the blanket over his head again and lay still. Blethin’s fingers pressed against the back of his bare ankle. “He’s got a perfectly regular pulse, you’ll be happy to learn. I must have given him a bigger dose than I thought though. I expected him to be awake by now.”
“Take the blanket off his face. He’ll suffocate if you don’t.” Blethin had placed the blanket over the boy’s head at each poll booth, in case the attendant looked into the car.
Leo lay still as the doctor leaned over the back seat and moved the blanket. His mind was reeling from what he’d overheard. He was on his way to Zimbabwe, which he knew was a vicious dictatorship to the north of South Africa and there was an officer of some kind in the car. A soldier, or a policeman? He wondered. Coetzee must be driving and the other man was the fake doctor who’d drugged him. From their voices he knew the first two were definitely South African but the doctor was European. Not English, but with an English way of speaking. What the hell was going on? Where was his mother? What’s happened to her? Why had these men kidnapped him to take him to Zimbabwe?
He tried to piece together the events of the last few days, struggling to understand the reason for this far-fetched scenario. The incident in the toilet was now clear in his memory. Lambert and Blethin had come over to speak to him as he waited for a free stall. The manager took him by the arms as he spoke to him about the game then Blethin pushed a needle into his upper arm. He was wearing only a tee shirt and the needle went straight into his triceps. Lambert held him as he struggled and the ‘doctor’ put his hand over his mouth. That was Sunday. He had a vague memory of the nurse waking him up in the hospital room. That must have been yesterday. Then before the last injection, Coetzee had said it was Wednesday morning and since then he’d probably slept for a few hours, so it must be Wednesday evening.
Now he was on the way to Zimbabwe and he had no idea how far it was or why they were taking him. He had to get away from them, get to a police station or a hospital. Some place where they could help him to get back to Johannesburg, back to his mother. She must be frantic with worry. That’s if nothing has happened to her. But from what the sergeant had said, she was OK. But where is she? The plane tickets were for today. She couldn’t have gone and left me behind. He felt a surge of anger at these bastards who had interrupted his holiday with her, a fabulous holiday that he knew had cost all her savings.
Strangely, he felt no fear of the men, only anger. They had taken a lot of care to keep him quiet and alive and there was a doctor to make sure he stayed that way. They haven’t even tied my hands or feet, he realised. I’m just a school kid who presents no danger to them. Well, we’ll see about that. They don’t seem to be the best of friends. Arguing all the time. I need to exploit that. Let’s see if there’s anything useful here.
It was dark and noisy in the back of the vehicle and he risked moving his left arm to search the space immediately around him. There were some bags and cases between his body and the tailgate door and two jerry cans against the rear wheel arch, which was where the smell of fuel came from. Stretching his arm behind his head he felt along the area between the wheel arch and the second row seat, the one he knew Blethin was in. His hand was obstructed by something on the side panel behind Blethin’s seat. He felt around it delicately with his fingers. It was a torch, fastened on clips onto the side panel. Carefully detaching it from the clips he brought his hand back in front of him under the blanket. The torch was quite large and heavy. He hefted it, gauging its use as a potential weapon. Feels good. Now I’m not just angry. I’m angry and armed.
He lay quietly and waited for the next stop, preparing his escape plan.
THIRTY-FIVE
Marbella, Spain
Espinoza was studying the list of possible suspects. The problem was that there were only two names on it:
Dr Antoine Constance,
Dr Tony Forrester.
It seemed they were the only people who could have known the circumstances of Leo’s birth. They knew that Constance had disappeared from view after leaving the Clinique Saint Christophe in Nice and flying to London. Espinoza had contacted the Home Office, but there was no trace of him in the UK. He had vanished and they had no idea of his whereabouts.
Emma had been shocked at Espinoza’s theory for the reason behind Leo’s abduction. Although she had called her sister out of desperation, she had no idea of the extent of her wealth and that it had to be the motive for the crime. She sat looking at the other two, a dazed expression on her face.
“How could anyone possibly know all these facts? Mutesi’s death and Leo’s birth, Galaganza’s death, our trip to South Africa and Jenny’s fortune. There’s no one who could have known all of this. It’s just not feasible.”
“We don’t know that, Emma. There are basically three events, or key facts, and what we are looking for is a link between them. This is like any other sequence of events, there are links that lead from one to the next. As a writer you know that however strange the links you invent appear to be, the truth will always be stranger. In this case I think it has to be people; a person who knew one thing happened to meet someone who knew the next fact and so on.”
“But why kidnap Leo in the first place? Why didn’t they just kidnap me and blackmail Jenny? She’s the one with the money. Or they could have blackmailed me with a threat to reveal Leo’s illegal birth and I would have been just as desperate to pay for their silence.”
“We are dealing with clever people here. This was a much more sophisticated undertaking than a simple kidnapping. They used the knowledge they had to create a double threat to you. Both Leo’s life and your continued future together were threatened. Whichever way you turned the only solution was your sister. They knew this, but you didn’t. It was an inspired idea to contact her for help.”
“You’re forgetting another thing, Emma.” Jenny interjected. They might know a lot about us, but that can’t include our feelings for each other. We’ve hardly seen each other for years and for all they know I might not have agreed to help you. But by abducting Leo they made sure that I would, however d
ysfunctional our relationship might be. And you didn’t contact me to ask me for money. You had no idea of my situation until today. It confirms Pedro’s theory about the combination of factors being known to someone. Somehow they knew I had money and by taking Leo they forced you to ask for my help because you were stranded in South Africa with no one else to turn to.”
“My God, they really did their homework. They followed us into an inhospitable place then took my son away and forced me to look for the only solution that was available. I’m so sorry, Jenny. I got you involved in this whole horrible mess because there was no one else I could turn to.”
“Let’s concentrate on trying to find whoever knew all the facts and was in a position to exploit them with a fairly substantial investment. It’s just a business proposition; the reward is potentially large and someone has funded the business accordingly.”
“But I have no idea who could tick all those boxes. No idea at all.”
After another hour of fruitless discussion, Espinoza said, “I have to get back to Malaga now, but I’ll be here first thing in the morning. We must revisit everyone concerned in this business from the beginning. We know the motive now. We just have to work out the sequence of events, to see the plan, the opportunity, the execution. The link is there, hidden from us, but only until we find it.”
He was preparing to leave when his mobile rang again. He saw the number on the screen and looked at his watch. “It’s my Australian friend from Interpol,” he told them. “Hello, Mac. What are you doing up at this time of night? At your age you should be in bed by now.” He laughed at the response, then said, “Thanks for getting back so quickly.” He took his notebook and pen. “Fire away, I’m listening.”
After a few minutes, he looked at the women with a resigned expression. “Thanks, Mac. It’s not good news, but thanks anyway. Now get yourself to bed and sleep well.”
Espinoza put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m afraid it’s bad news. We are down to one suspect!”
The African Diamond Trilogy Box Set Page 79
