Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller) (9 page)

Emotion flashed across Edger's face for the first time since they started talking. "Really?" he said. "You can guarantee my daughter's safety, is that what you're saying?"

"There are never any guarantees in these situations, Mr. Edger," Black said. "You should know that better than anyone, given what you used to do for a living. But I guarantee you, you'll have a better chance of getting Kaitlin back safely with our help. I think you owe it to Kaitlin to let us help you."

Edger glanced at his watch, then back to Black. "It's like I told you. This was all a big misunderstanding. My daughter is safe and well."

Black sighed, as did McKee. He could feel her anger and frustration as she sat tensely beside him.

"So what's your plan, Mr. Edger?" she asked. "Are you just going to go all Jack Reacher and save your daughter yourself?"

Edger frowned slightly. "What?"

McKee made a snorting sound and shook her head.

"Mr. Edger," Black said. "A serious crime has been committed here, and like it or not, we have to investigate. Once we try unsuccessfully to locate your daughter we will be back to arrest you, either as a suspect in her kidnapping or on charges of obstruction. That much we can guarantee."

Edger stood up. "Sorry to have wasted your time. Now, if you don't mind, I have things to do."

Black stared at him a moment then shook his head. "We'll see ourselves out."

Black and McKee left Edger's apartment and went back to their car in the private car park outside. "I can't believe what we just heard," McKee said as she sat in the driver's seat.

"I can," Black said. "It's obvious whoever took Edger's daughter told him not involve the police or they would hurt the girl. Maybe even kill her."

"What do you think this is about?" McKee started the car and drove to the security gates, then waited on the concierge to open them so they could drive through. "You never asked him in there."

"Not much point, was there? Do you think he'd have told us anything?"

"No, not really." McKee drove through the gates and out onto the road. She turned left and started driving back towards the Lisburn Road. "So what now? We should have arrested him in there."

"We don't have enough evidence yet. Whatever we have, it's circumstantial." He lit a cigarette, causing McKee to shake her head at him, though she said nothing and wound her window down. "We need to talk to the mother, determine the daughter is actually missing."

"If she even talks to us," McKee said, wrinkling her nose at the acrid smell of smoke in the car. She knew better than to ask him to put the cigarette out. He never listened.

"She'll talk," Black said, blowing smoke out the window. "Once she does, then we arrest Edger."

No sooner did Black have the words out when he fell into a long fit of uncontrollable coughing. When he'd finished, he hawked and spat out the window.

McKee looked at him in disgust. "Jesus Christ, Paul. You need to quit those fucking things."

Black wiped a hand across his mouth. "So I'm told."

CHAPTER TEN

Once the two cops had left his apartment, Edger let out a long, uneasy breath. He had been hoping to avoid the cops for as long as possible, but they had obviously wasted no time in getting involved. Barefaced lying to them wasn't something he relished, as he knew they were only doing their jobs and were probably genuine about helping him. But at the same time, there was no way he was risking Kaitlin's safety by allowing the cops to get involved. Detective Black didn't look like a man who would just let things go. He seemed to Edger to be the bulldog type, sinking his teeth into a case until it was solved or until he was forced to drop it for some reason. Edger had no doubt Black would keep at it until he uncovered what was going on, which was bad news for Edger as the cop would only hamper his attempt to get his daughter back in one piece. And given what Kaitlin's kidnapper was asking Edger to do, the last thing Edger needed was a cop on his back.

Edger sat on the sofa and rolled himself a much needed cigarette, which he lit with the zippo lighter from his jacket pocket. As he returned the lighter to his pocket, he felt the Glock 17 in its holster under his jacket. That was one thing he was glad off, to have a gun in his possession. He had spent the greater part of the last two decades carrying a gun of some sort and doing so always gave him a sense of security that he didn't have when he wasn't armed. This was the first time since arriving back in Ireland that he felt he truly needed a gun. Unlike with the close protection jobs he had done over the last year, the gun wasn't just for show. As far as Edger was concerned, he was back at war again. He was a soldier once more.

He took his own phone out of his jacket pocket—the burner phone the kidnapper had provided still in his other pocket—and called Gemma.

She picked up on the first ring. "Harry?" she said, sounding breathless. "Have you heard anything yet? I'm going crazy here…" She broke down and started crying.

"Gemma, listen to me," Edger said in a gentle but firm voice. "Kaitlin's kidnapper contacted me."

"Oh my God…what did he say…what does he want? Is Kaitlin alright? Tell me she's okay, Harry…"

"I think she's okay—"

"You think? Is she or isn't she?"

"She's scared, Gemma, but she's unhurt."

"Oh God…"

It was killing him, hearing her in so much pain and mental anguish, but he couldn't let it get to him, as hard as that was. He needed to remain strong for both of them. For Kaitlin most of all.

"Who took her?" she asked when she could speak properly again.

"I don't know," he told her. "He wouldn't tell me who he was."

"You didn't recognise his voice?"

"He disguised it with a voice changer."

"Jesus Christ, Harry. What does he want?"

Edger paused before answering. "He wants me to do something very bad, Gemma."

"What? What does that mean?"

"You don't need to know—"

"Don't pull that fucking shit with me, Harry," she raged. "You tell me what he wants you to do."

Edger sighed and shook his head, but said nothing.

"This is my daughter we're talking about here. Tell me what he wants, Harry. Now!"

"He wants me to kill somebody."

There was a shocked silence on her end, then she said, "Who?"

"It doesn't matter who, Gemma. The less you know about this the better."

"Fuck you, Harry! Who? Who does he want you to kill?"

Fuck.

"The Lord Mayor of Belfast."

Another shocked silence. "What?"

"Don't ask me why. I don't know. He never gave a reason."

"And if you don't?"

He said nothing.

"Oh God, Harry…" She started crying again.

"Listen, Gemma," he said. "I'm going to handle this, alright? Whatever happens, I'm getting Kaitlin back."

"You're going to do what this psycho wants?"

Edger told her the truth. "Not if I can help it."

"But you have to do something, or he'll…" She couldn't finish.

"Like I said, Gemma. I'll do what I have to do, whatever the cost to me. I'll get Kaitlin back to you."

"This is all your fault," she snapped. "You better do whatever it takes, Harry. I don't care who you have to kill, you just get my daughter back to me, you hear me?"

Edger sat in silence, wondering if she really meant what she said. Gemma was by no means a violent person. She hated violence, in fact. Murder wasn't part of her vocabulary. Not under ordinary circumstances anyway, but these were not ordinary circumstances. He spent enough time in war torn regions all over the world to know what desperation did to people. Gemma was now a desperate mother who would do anything to get her daughter back.

"I will fix this, Gemma," he said, wondering as soon as he said the words how he could make promises like that, but he had to believe he could follow through on his claim, otherwise he might as well right his daughter off as dead already, and there was no way he was going to do that. He would die first himself before he did that. "But I need you to handle the cops. Two detectives came to see me. They'll be coming to see you next. I need you tell them what I told them. That this morning was just a misunderstanding and that Kaitlin is fine. Tell them she's staying with your parents in Fermanagh. They won't believe you, but it will buy me time. I can't do this if the cops are involved. The cunt who took Kaitlin said no cops. We have to respect that, for Kaitlin's sake. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I understand," she said. "I'll handle the cops, don't worry."

"Good."

"But I'm telling you, Harry," she said, her voice full of angry conviction. "You better get Kaitlin back alive and unhurt, or I will kill you myself. I mean that."

It was strange to hear her talk like that, so full of aggression and murderous conviction. It was ugly for him to hear and he hated how the darkness of the situation had blackened and twisted the pure soul he was once so in love with, was
still
in love with, if he was being honest with himself. The darkness he had lived in for years, he had brought home with him, and it had corrupted the only light in his life.

"I'll get our daughter back," he said. "Whatever it takes."

Edger hung up the phone and repeated to himself the last words he said: "Whatever it takes."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

John Rankin stood in his office staring out the window at the drizzling rain that was slowly soaking the city, though the rain didn't stop the Saturday afternoon shopping crowd, nor the black clad teenagers that made it their business to gather in their droves around the front of the city hall across the way, too busy trying to be cool to have a care in the world.

Rankin sighed and shook his head before sitting back down at his desk. His mind was on Harry Edger and the awful situation the man was now in. Rankin had two daughters, the youngest daughter being thirteen, only a year older than Edger's daughter, Kaitlin. Rankin couldn't imagine what it would be like if his youngest daughter was kidnapped by some psycho out for revenge. In his long career as a military cop, Rankin had come across many men capable of kidnapping a child, and worse, of killing one. Such men were good at hiding what they really were but if you knew what to look for, you could see right through them. It would only take one such psycho getting out of jail and deciding to teach the man who put them there in the first place a lesson. Rankin shuttered at the thought.

It was why he was careful about his personal security, why his home on the Malone Road was like a fortress, and why he had trained his wife Victoria in all sorts of security measures, including defensive driving, anti-kidnapping protocols and how to use the .38 Smith and Wesson Bodyguard that was kept in a safe in their bedroom back home. No doubt some would see his behaviour as bordering on paranoia, but Rankin had seen and heard of enough families over the years being targeted by criminals for various reasons. Northern Ireland even had its own brand of kidnapping, called "Tiger Kidnappings". These were usually carried out by paramilitaries who would target business owners, holding the family hostage while the victim was forced to open their business and bypass all security measures so the gangs could rob the business in question. It was how the Republican paramilitaries pulled off the biggest bank robbery in British history when they cleaned out the Belfast Northern Bank.

Rankin didn't want anything like that happening to his family, hence the personal security measures. It was also why he carried a concealed Glock 17 most days. Thanks to his contacts gained through years of service in the British military, Rankin had been able to get a concealed carry permit, as well as one for Edger and the guys he used for close protection details. Gun laws in Northern Ireland are surprisingly less stringent than in Britain, for which Rankin was thankful. On at least one occasion, he had call to use his gun when a VIP he was protecting was attacked by a gang of ex-paramilitaries intent on kidnapping the principal. Rankin shot two of them dead, while the other three gang members got away. In that particular case, he was very grateful for the gun laws here.

When his mobile phone rang, Rankin answered it. It was Edger. "What's happening?" he asked Edger.

"We need to talk," Edger said. "Can you meet me somewhere, away from the office? I don't want to run into the cops again."

"You've spoken to them already?"

"They called at my apartment, asking questions."

"What you tell them?"

"That the whole thing was a big misunderstanding."

Rankin frowned. "Why, Harry? They can help you."

"Not in this case. I'll tell you why when I see you."

Rankin told Edger to meet him in the cafe around the corner from the office building in five minutes.