He put his ear to the door.
They were not the sounds of defeat or fear.
James Blackwell’s daughter was weeping in pure, undiluted rage.
‘He’s not here. Neither of them is.’
Douglas delivered the news to Diana as he slid behind the wheel of the Rolls-Royce, which he’d parked on the apron of the luxury apartments behind the Promenade des Anglais. He’d insisted she wait in the car while he went in to speak to the concierge. After a thick wad of francs was produced, the woman had shown him up to James Blackwell’s empty apartment.
Now Diana gave a little wail. ‘Oh God! Where can she be, Douglas? What is he doing with her? We have to go to the police!’
He started the engine and pulled out onto the road before speaking.
‘From what you told me on the way here, I don’t think that would do the slightest bit of good. He’s got the gendarmerie in his pocket, hasn’t he? Anyway, he’s Stella’s father. He’d just say he was spending time with his long-lost daughter, and even if Stella told a different story, the police wouldn’t pay any attention. I’m afraid we’re on our own, Diana.’
She stared helplessly through the windscreen as they joined the evening traffic on the Promenade. ‘What are we going to do?’
Her husband drove in silence for a minute. ‘Right, here’s my assessment,’ he said finally. ‘He’s got a pressing debt to settle with the local Mafia, correct?’
Diana tried to think as calmly as she could. ‘Yes. After my confrontation with him today, Armand and Hélène filled me in on a lot more detail. They say the word is that he has a very short time left to come up with the money, otherwise the Mafia will simply take his business from him. I suppose they might even kill him. He’s under enormous pressure.’
‘How do they know all this? I thought the Mafia were a secretive lot.’
‘Not when they have an opportunity to show what they’re capable of,’ she replied. ‘If they can be seen to stamp on Le Loup Anglais good and hard, they might even get some gratitude. Armand actually said he’d prefer dealing with the Mafia than with James, as they’re more flexible. That tells you a lot about my first husband, doesn’t it?’
‘It certainly does. Well, it’s obvious what’s happening now. You tumbled to the kind of chap he really is before he could get any more money from you, and—’
‘But I don’t have any more money,’ she interrupted. ‘I gave him just about everything in my account. He knows that.’
‘That’s exactly my point, Diana. However, he knows you’re married to a wealthy man, doesn’t he? He was probably planning to persuade you to “borrow” my chequebook and make him out a cheque. Forge my signature, and so on.’
Diana was shocked. ‘I would never have agreed to do that!’
‘Of course you wouldn’t. But in any case, he’s lost that option completely, now that you know him for what he is. So he’s grabbed Stella and you can bet your bottom dollar he’ll be on the phone this evening suggesting a cosy little exchange. A nice big bag of cash in return for her. So we need to get back to the villa and take his call.’
He switched lanes and took the turn-off to St Paul de Vence, leaving the palm trees of the Promenade behind them and heading towards the pine-clad foothills that rose immediately behind the coastal plain. The sun was setting over the mountains to the west, and late-evening cloud over their summits was flushed pink. In a couple of hours it would be dark.
Diana was filled with a sudden premonition. What was happening now was incredible, but beyond this moment lay – what, exactly? Instinct told her that something was about to reach fulfilment; completion. An ending.
She knew it in her heart, irrefutably, and she shivered.
Douglas glanced towards her as the road began to rise into the hills. ‘What are you thinking?’
Diana gazed at her lap. ‘I’m thinking that I’ve put Stella in great danger, Douglas. If I hadn’t been so stupid, if I’d told you everything in the first place, from the moment I thought I saw James, we wouldn’t be here now, would we? I’ve been so selfish and foolish. And now, if you’re right, and I pray that you are, we’re being blackmailed. It’s extortion pure and simple, isn’t it? You’re going to have to pay a huge ransom for Stella, and it’s all my fault.’
He snorted. ‘Pay that scoundrel? You’ve got it all wrong, Diana. I’m not going to give that creature my money. Not a single penny. He can whistle for it.’
The volcanic argument that erupted in the car intensified when they reached the villa. Diana had never felt so helpless and terrified and enraged in the same moment.
Douglas, however, was intractable. James, he insisted, had no intention of harming Stella. She was his own daughter, for God’s sake. Even the Mafia didn’t kidnap and murder their own children. This was all a ruse; the last throw of the dice by a desperate man. As soon as James realised that he, Douglas, had his number, Stella would be released unharmed and her father would seek another way out of his current difficulties. It was obvious. James Blackwell didn’t know it yet, but he was going up a dead end.
Diana wanted to strangle him.
‘Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been telling you about him? He’s a cold-blooded murderer, Douglas! He told me himself he doesn’t think he possesses a soul! Stella is in terrible danger every minute she’s with him, wherever they may be. You’re talking about him as if he’s some sort of businessman who makes rational decisions. He’s nothing of the kind. I think he may be insane!’
They were on the marble stairs of the villa. Douglas was pale with anger, his sparse hair awry.
‘And I’m telling you that Stella isn’t in the slightest danger! This man is playing games with us in exactly the same way he’s played games with you, Diana, right from the first day you met him all those years ago. I’m sorry, but I’m not falling for it. And don’t you lecture me on business. That’s my field. James Blackwell – James Blackguard, more like – is just another shark. I’ve been dealing with his type all my life. He’s a chancer. But he won’t harm his daughter. No father would.’
To his shock and astonishment, Diana reached out with both hands and gripped his ears, yanking them back and forth as hard as she could. He howled in pain.
‘A chancer?’ she screamed into his face. ‘A chancer ? What are you talking about, Douglas? He’s not some spiv on the make! He’s one of the most feared men on the Riviera! He doesn’t know Stella! He didn’t even know she existed until this week! She’s just a convenient bloody pawn in his hideous game! Can’t you see?’ She gave one last desperate heave before releasing him.
He rubbed his ears, panting, before managing: ‘I see this as a time for cool heads, not a screaming match. That bloody hurt, Diana.’ His Highland accent was more pronounced than she had ever heard it before.
He continued massaging his ears. ‘Let’s both calm down, shall we? This isn’t achieving anything. Anyway, you haven’t let me finish. I’m not going to tell him to go hang and slam the phone down on him, for Christ’s sake.’
The unexpected blasphemy startled her. Douglas never took his Lord’s name in vain. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded.
He sighed. ‘If you’d just simmer down, and give me a chance to explain – you haven’t stopped yelling at me since we were in the car. And I’ve no idea what we’re doing here on the stairs. Come away into the salon. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.’
Douglas took a gulp of scotch, and motioned to his wife to do the same.
‘It’s like this, Diana. The police here are no good to us, we both know that, so we have to fall back on our own resources. I propose stalling when Blackwell phones and makes his demands. I’ll tell him it’ll take me time to get the money together; I’ll feed him some rubbish or other. Meanwhile, I’ll commission a private detective agency to find out his and Stella’s whereabouts. I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning. I know of two good bureaux down here, one in Nice, the other in Cannes. I’ve used them to check o
ut a couple of companies I wasn’t all that happy about doing business with. They’re very good.’
He took another sip from his tumbler. ‘Come to think of it, I’ll hire them both and offer a bonus to the one that tracks the swine down first. I give it twenty-four hours before one or the other nails him. Then we can—’
Diana groaned and buried her face in her hands.
‘Oh, Douglas – you’re a good man, but you simply don’t understand, do you? If the police are frightened of him, do you seriously think private detectives will have the guts to take him on? He kills people. If he doesn’t do it personally – and trust me, he has, he’s admitted it – he has others do it for him. I’ve told you all this.’
Her husband bristled. ‘Well I’m sorry, but I think you’re wrong. My plan has a great deal to commend it. You greatly overestimate this unpleasant fellow’s capacities. And I must say, Diana, that I’m somewhat offended by your—’
‘This is about Stella!’ she exploded. ‘My daughter! Stop being such a pompous prat, Douglas! I want you to give James exactly what he asks for, so we can get her back. Then you can hire all the bloody private detectives you like to track him down, although God knows what they or you will do if they manage to do that. Ask him for my money back? Sue him? Have him roughed up? You have no idea what we’re up against. Can’t you see? It’s he who holds all the cards.’
The phone began to ring. They both stared at it.
‘Please, Douglas.’
He stepped towards the telephone table and picked up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ He listened intently.
When he replied, he was laconic, as though he were closing an inconsequential business deal.
‘Yes, I think I can manage that, under the circumstances – although of course I shall require some form of guarantee, you understand. But I need a little time to organise the finances. Say, forty-eight hours?’
Another pause. Douglas again. ‘Well, these things take time. I can—’
Diana saw his hand suddenly tighten on the receiver.
‘What? But I’m trying to explain to you, I’m perfectly happy to do this, I simply require— What? What did you say?’
Diana saw her husband visibly pale.
‘Now look, I’m not going to listen to these kinds of threats. I – NO! Don’t hang up! What? Yes, she’s here. Of course. One moment.’
He turned, shaken, to his wife. ‘He wants to speak to you.’ He held the telephone towards her, avoiding eye-contact.
Diana crossed the room and snatched the receiver from him. ‘James. It’s me.’
‘Diana. Your husband is a stupid prick. Tell him I know exactly what he’s doing. I want the money tomorrow night without fail. I’ll call again in the morning with the details. Once it’s been handed over, Stella will be sent by taxi to the Negresco. You can pick her up there.’
‘You bastard. How can you do this to her? She’s your daughter! I insist on speaking to her – now!’
He sighed. ‘I honestly couldn’t give a tuppeny damn if she was the Queen of Sheba and I was her misbegotten old dad. Currently Stella’s fine, trust me. And I’ll make you a guarantee. If the money doesn’t materialise at the time and place of my choosing, our daughter will be delivered by taxi to the Negresco.’
Diana’s head swam. ‘What? I don’t understand you. You’re confusing me. You’ll give her back in any event?’
‘Well, up to a point, Diana. Tell me, is Stella left-handed or right-handed?’
‘What? What has that to do with anything? She’s . . . she’s right-handed. Why?’
She thought he was coughing, until she realised he was laughing.
‘Then I’ll play fair. If Dougal – dammit, Douglas – doesn’t do his stepfatherly duty, it’ll be our daughter’s left hand that’s delivered in a paper bag to the Negresco tomorrow night. I’ll cut it off myself.’
The line went dead.
57
Douglas was shaken by his conversation with James and his eyes widened when Diana told him what he’d threatened. But he was a stubborn man.
‘I know this is extremely distressing, but that’s how he means it to be. He’s all bluff, Diana. You have to face these types down.’
She closed her eyes.
‘No, Diana, listen to me! I’m telling you, by this time tomorrow he’ll have realised he’s backing a losing horse and Stella will be safe home with us. But I understand how you must be feeling, so look, this is what I’ll do. I’ll go into Nice and Cannes right now, tonight, and get both those agencies on the case before midnight.
‘I know you say they’ll be frightened of him, but it’s possible to buy courage, you know. I’ll promise to make it worth their while. And heck, if necessary, I’ll double whatever it is he pays the cops to look the other way. They’ll look his way then all right, believe you me!’ Douglas looked rather pleased with himself when he’d finished.
Diana balled her hands into tight fists in a tremendous effort of self-control.
‘Douglas, he just threatened to cut her hand off! Please, pay him the bloody money!’
Douglas shook his head slowly, defiantly. ‘He’s all bluff,’ he repeated. ‘Stella’s his daughter. He won’t harm a hair of her head. My way is the right way, believe me. And I’ll tell you why. If we pay him now, what’s to stop him doing all this again one day, when he needs another fast buck? Hmm? Ask yourself that, my dear. We can’t risk putting Stella through anything of the kind again.’
He paused. ‘You’ll thank me for this when she’s back here safe and sound. I’m leaving now, Diana. I have a lot to arrange.’ He left the room.
Diana ground her teeth in frustration. She couldn’t think what to do. She had no money of her own to buy her daughter back. She felt completely powerless. Douglas was wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything she now knew about James convinced her that he did not make empty threats.
She heard the front door slam and a few moments later, the sound of the car leaving.
She began to pace the villa. How long had Stella been gone? Five, six hours? She looked at her watch. It was eight o’clock. Seven o’clock in England.
England. Of course.
She ran to the telephone.
On this warm June evening, Mr Arnold was sitting out on the lawn in the fading light, struggling to read the business pages of his evening paper. He glanced towards the ha-ha. Those blasted rabbits . . . nothing seemed to diminish their numbers, not myxomatosis, the disease transplanted from Australia that year that had decimated the rabbit population in other parts of England; not his gardener’s .22 rook-rifle, nor the snares he himself personally set along the rabbit-runs.
He could count about thirty of the lolloping creatures roaming the far end of the lawn, digging and burrowing in the flowerbeds that ran along its southern border. The plants were quite ruined. As for his vegetable patch, he’d surrendered that to them long ago. He clapped his hands. Several of the bunnies sat up like question-marks. Maybe he should go to the potting shed and fetch the rook-rifle. There was probably enough light left to shoot two or three before the others fled for cover.
At that moment, the phone began to ring in the house behind him. Oliver and Gwen had recently installed an extension in the garden room, so Mr Arnold took his time crossing the lawn to the French windows.
On the seventh ring he reached the instrument and picked up the receiver. ‘Oliver Arnold.’
‘Daddy!’
‘Diana? It’s about time. We thought you’d fallen into a bottomless pit.’
‘Daddy, listen to me. I have to ask you something. And if you possibly can, just say “yes”. It’s incredibly important.’
The fear and urgency in his daughter’s voice were palpable; he’d never heard her sound like this before. Dammit, he’d known something was wrong. He’d bloody well known it. He should have flown down to Nice weeks ago.
‘It’s all right, Diana. I’m here. I’m listening. Go ahead.’
‘Can you raise a lot of money in cash by tom
orrow morning, and have it here in France by tomorrow night? I’m sorry, I realise that will probably mean bringing it yourself.’
She told him how much.
Mr Arnold struggled to control the astonishment in his voice.
‘What? I’m sorry, dear, I think I misheard you. How much did you say?’
Diana repeated the amount. ‘And it’s absolutely imperative it’s here tomorrow – all of it.’
‘What in heaven is this about?’
‘It’s about Stella. She’s in great danger and Douglas – well, Douglas just doesn’t realise it. That’s why I’ve had to turn to you like this. But time is desperately short and you’ll need to organise it all at once. There just isn’t time for me to explain what’s happened, it’s too horribly complicated. You’ll simply have to trust me.’
‘I trust you, Diana. Give me a moment, please.’
He thought furiously. The figure she was asking for was not, in itself, a problem. Mr Arnold was extremely wealthy; he was generally regarded as the richest libel lawyer in London. He had many times the required amount in his personal savings account and in any case this was about his granddaughter.
What on earth was happening down there?
His mind racing, he remembered that the principal at his bank was Sir Richard Jobson, a personal friend. They’d been in the same regiment together during the First War. Mr Arnold was fairly certain he could persuade Sir Richard to release such an irregular sum in cash, even at this short notice. It would merely take a phone call.
So much for the money, then.
‘Hang on, Diana. I’m still thinking this through.’
France by tomorrow night – that was the tricky part. It would mean travelling to Dover, taking the boat train, and catching the Nice Express at the Gare de Lyon in Paris. Even if he was at the bank when it opened at nine o’clock next morning, he’d never make Nice by tomorrow night. It just wasn’t physically possible.
‘I can get the money, Diana, I’m pretty certain of that,’ he said at last. ‘But I can’t be in Nice until the day after tomorrow, at the earliest.’
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