The Loyal Servant (36 page)

‘Home. Dan needs me.’

‘Caroline – you’re overreacting.’

The phone rang again – the number had been withheld. Caroline answered. ‘Yes?’

‘Mum?’

‘Oh Claire, sweetheart. Are you OK? Have they hurt you? Is Ben all right?’

There was a pause. Then a man’s voice.

‘If I don’t hear from my boss in half an hour, confirming her property is back safely, you won’t get another chance to say goodbye.’

‘For God’s sake – we’ll get there just as fast as we can! Please – don’t hurt them.’

‘Don’t think about calling the police – if we see them anywhere near…’

The line died again. Caroline punched three nines into the phone.

‘What’s happening now, what are you doing?’ Pete said.

‘I’ve got to stop the police before they get to the chalet.’

Pete yanked the steering wheel hard and they swerved down another lane. Caroline saw a signpost for the station.

It was a mile and a half away.

49

Two uniformed security guards waved the van through the gates into the yard and Pete parked in the same spot he’d used earlier. Half a dozen thickset men in smart suits emerged from the building to greet them.

‘No need for you to come in, Pete,’ Angela said.

Caroline’s husband swivelled in his seat and stared at her. ‘You’re fucking joking. No way.
You
stay in the van.’ He reached for the files.

Angela held on to them. ‘There’s no telling what they might do to you. They could make it look like an accident.’ She glanced at the small army surrounding the van. ‘If anything happens to me while I’m in there it’d be much harder for them to explain.’

Come on, Pete. Trust me.

‘Let me do this,’ she said and grabbed the door handle.

Pete quickly leaned over and snatched her wrist. ‘We’ll go in together.’

Angela and Pete were escorted into reception, another six wide-necked men were waiting for them inside.

‘I’ve never seen so many guards here before,’ Pete whispered to her. ‘Feels like something else is going on. I haven’t laid eyes on any of this lot before. They’re all new recruits.’

‘Maybe they are expecting another demo,’ Angela whispered back.

Three men stepped to the left of the corridor leading to Valerie Larson’s office, the other three to the right, creating an intimidating channel for Angela and Pete to walk through. Angela followed as slowly as she could behind Pete, still desperately trying to formulate a contingency plan.

Second rule of journalism – always have a Plan B
.

She clung on to the files, wishing she’d thought to hide one or two in the back of the van without the Barbers noticing.

Two more muscle-bound giants in Armani suits flanked the oak door at the end of the corridor. One of them reached across and levered down the door handle. The thick panel of wood swung aside to reveal Valerie Larson at the far end of the room, sitting behind her desk, Shirley standing beside her. Larson looked at Pete and shook her head.

‘Peter Barber?’

He nodded.

‘Shirley tells me you’re one of our best workers.’

Shirley was staring at him too, rubbing her wrist where the computer cables had bound her to the chair.

‘One of our most
loyal
employees, apparently. Where did it all go wrong Peter?’

A guard drove a meaty fist into the small of Pete’s back. He staggered into the middle of the room. Angela stayed just inside the door, clutching the files behind her back. Another guard grabbed her by the arm and dragged her forward, next to Pete.

Larson jumped out of her seat. ‘Where’s Mrs Barber?’

The two guards shrugged almost comically at one another.

Larson strode towards them. ‘Where’s your wife, Peter? Hiding out in the van? Did you think you could protect her from this?’ She prodded a guard. ‘Go and get her.’

‘She’s not here,’ Pete said.

‘What?’

‘She had to deal with a family emergency.’

‘A family emergency? Is she planning to single-handedly overpower the four men currently babysitting your children?’ She snatched the files from Angela’s arms and threw them on the desk. ‘Is that all of them?’

Shirley sifted carefully through the pile and nodded.

‘How do I know you haven’t taken copies? How do I know that Mrs Barber doesn’t have them on her right now?’

‘Copies?’ Angela said. ‘When have we had time to make copies, for fuck’s sake?’

‘There’s absolutely no need to use that kind of language with me.’ She shook her head. ‘Gutter mouth from the gutter press.’

‘The
Evening News
is not—’

‘Oh shut up! Don’t you think your loyalty is a little… misplaced? I can’t imagine it will save you from redundancy.’

‘What?’

‘I know all about your current… employment situation.’

Larson pointed towards a guard. ‘Search the van.’

‘You’re wasting your time – there’s nothing in there,’ Pete said. ‘There aren’t any copies.’

‘Give me your bag,’ she barked at Angela.

Angela squeezed held on tight to her bag.

‘Do you want to do this the painful way?’ Valerie Larson nodded to one of the guards. A hand grabbed either side of the bag and wrenched it from Angela’s arm, the straps scraping across her sweater and dragging at the flesh beneath.

‘Easy!’ Pete lurched towards the guard. Another came at him from behind and pinned his arms behind his back.

The first security man handed Angela’s bag to his boss. Valerie Larson marched back to her desk, upended the bag and shook the contents free. Notebook, pens, wallet, glasses, hip flask and mobile phones all came clattering onto the desk. Larson flicked through the notebook of shorthand squiggles then discarded it. She snatched up each phone in turn and inspected it front and back.

‘Check his pockets,’ she shouted.

Immediately two guards started pawing at Pete. Reflexively, he threw up an elbow and caught one of the men in the face. The guard staggered back, holding his cheek. Pete swung quickly round and buried a fist into the other’s stomach. Angela watched the action unfold as if it was happening in slow motion. What did he think he was doing? There were too many of them. She glanced up at the files on the desk. If she could just reach one document… slip it under her jumper.

It was too late.

Two more men ploughed into Pete, knocking him to the ground. A sharp-tipped boot struck him under the chin, snapping his head back.

‘That’s for Sergei,’ the guard said.

The guard Pete had hit in the face moments before raised a fist and brought it thundering down into his chest.

‘That’s enough!’ Larson yelled.

At once the men froze. One of them completed the task of checking Pete’s pockets and deposited a wallet and mobile phone onto the desk, like a gun dog obediently dropping a grouse. Larson checked the back of Pete’s phone.

‘If you’ve been lying to me…’ She hit a few buttons on the keypad, staring intensely at the small screen. ‘How touching – so many portraits of his children.’ She threw the phone on the desk. ‘What about Mrs Barber’s phone?’

‘What about it?’

‘How many of the documents did she photograph?’

Angela stared at Valerie Larson for a long moment. She had no idea Pete’s phone had an in-built camera. If only she’d known that 40 minutes ago… She looked down at his body lying inert at her feet. A trickle of blood had oozed from his nose. She watched him until she was sure she saw his chest rise and lower.

Thank God.

‘Did you hear me?’ Larson strode towards her. ‘His wife’s phone?’

Angela pointed towards the desk. Her hand was shaking. ‘You’ve got it. She left her phone behind, remember? You used it to call me.’

Larson snatched the bright pink phone from the desk and turned it over in her hands.

Shirley, who’d said nothing for the last five minutes, suddenly piped up. ‘That’s not her phone.’ She waved a hand at her employer. ‘I saw her with another phone when she was here. A black one.’

‘So what?’ Angela stepped forward. A restraining arm on her elbow held her back. She shook it free. ‘I gave the other phone to Caroline – it’s exactly the same as the one in your hands – just a different colour. It’s a throwaway cheap phone. It doesn’t have a camera. We didn’t photograph the documents. Dear God, I only wish we had.’ She took a step closer to Valerie Larson.

‘You think I’m going to take your word for it?’ Valerie Larson shook her head. ‘Give me her number.’

Caroline was sitting in the back of the cab, willing the driver to go faster, when her mobile rang.

‘Hello?’ she said.

‘Mrs Barber, where are you?’

‘Has Pete arrived with the files? Are Ben and Claire all right? Tell me you’ve let them go.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t.’

‘What? Where’s my husband? He was on his way to you, I swear. Maybe he’s had an accident.’

‘I rather fear he has.’

Caroline’s heart lurched upwards into her throat.

‘What’s happened? They were bringing the files back to you, honestly.’

‘Oh they brought them back.’

‘Then I don’t understand. If you have—’

‘What they didn’t bring was you. Where are you, Mrs Barber?’

Caroline peered out of the cab window. ‘It’s hard to tell. We haven’t crossed the QE2 bridge yet…’ She leaned forward and stuck her face into the gap between the front seats. ‘Where are we?’

‘Just coming up to Thurrock services,’ the driver said.

‘Thurrock,’ Caroline shouted into the phone. ‘What does it matter where I am? You have your files back. Call off your men.’

‘If only it were that simple.’

‘I want to speak to my husband.’

‘That won’t be possible.’

‘Why? What have you done to him?’

‘I need you to come back here right now.’

‘I can’t – I’ve… I’ve got to get home.’

‘A family emergency, I’ve been told.’

‘That’s right – my son… he’s—’

‘I’m not interested in the details, Mrs Barber. You come back here right now, or I’ll tell my men in Sheppey to take care of your children. Permanently.’

Valerie Larson hung up.

Caroline stared at the phone for a moment, unable to do anything else, her head so full she couldn’t concentrate. She drew in a long breath. Exhaled. She quickly tapped in Dan’s number. His mobile rang and rang until the call was diverted to voicemail.

‘Stop the car!’ she shouted.

The driver looked at her in his rear-view mirror.

‘I said stop the car!’

‘I can’t just—’

‘Pull over onto the hard shoulder. Now!’

The car indicated and pulled in.

‘If you’re going to be sick—’

‘For fuck’s sake, shut up. I need to think.’

Caroline put a cold hand across her forehead and closed her eyes. She tried to assemble the facts as calmly as she could. But her mind wouldn’t settle. How could she choose between going home to Dan or saving Ben and Claire? She called Valerie Larson.

‘I do hope you’re phoning to let me know you’re on your way. Otherwise you’re wasting precious time, Mrs Barber.’

‘Why do you need me there?’

‘It’s a matter of trust, and quite frankly, I don’t trust you, your husband or the people you choose to associate with. Especially not them.’ Valerie Larson let out a long sigh.

‘Please – you don’t understand. I can’t come back. Not right now. I need to get home. My son… I have to make sure he’s safe.’

‘What about your daughter, Mrs Barber? What about your other son? What about their safety?’

‘Please. Don’t make me choose like this. I can’t… I can’t choose.’ Caroline stared out of the window. A lorry thundered past. The cab rocked.

‘You have 30 minutes to get back here.’

‘Please – please don’t do this. You would understand if you…’ She swallowed. ‘I am begging you. Please. Don’t make me do this. I’ll come back just as soon I can. You have my word.’

‘Your word means nothing to me. Do you understand? You’re wasting time. Don’t call again – not if you want to see your children alive.’

She hung up.

‘It’s dangerous just parked up like this, you know.’ The cab driver turned awkwardly in his seat. ‘We’re like sitting ducks. Anything could ram into the back of us.’

‘Shut up!’

Caroline’s mobile rang again. A number she didn’t recognise.

‘Mrs Barber?’

‘Yes – who is this?’

‘I’m the duty sergeant at Lewisham police station.’

Caroline swallowed.
Thank God
. ‘Did you find Dan? Is he OK?’

‘The officers we sent to your home have just called in. There’s no sign of your son at the premises.’

‘They went inside?’

‘The officers were unfortunately obliged to force entry into the property. You did agree to that, I believe?’

‘Yes, yes. Did they check all the rooms?’

‘A thorough search was completed, madam. The house was unoccupied.’

‘Unoccupied? When was this?’

He hesitated; she heard the rustling of paper. ‘About 20 minutes ago.’

‘But Dan might have turned up in the last 20 minutes. Get them to check again – they need to stay there until—’

‘We don’t have the resources for that kind of operation, madam.’

‘But I think he’s going to harm himself.’

She heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line.

‘I’m sorry, madam, with the best will in the world—’

Caroline hung up. She swallowed down a sob, her chest heaved.