by Wilbur Smith
41.
By the time I reached the hotel my face was slick with sweat and my T-shirt was sodden. I thundered through the lobby to the pool area and stopped dead. This was probably wise, since the security guard had already swung his gun in my direction. But that wasn’t what drew me up short. The sight of Amelia sitting on the edge of the pool did that. Relief flooded through me like iced water. My burning lungs emptied entirely. I thought I might collapse. The image of her there, unharmed, was as welcome a sight as I’d ever seen.
She spotted me, stood up and said, ‘You took your time.’
‘I couldn’t get across the square. It took ages. The cordon …’ I petered out.
‘You carried on? Well, that makes zero sense.’
‘Why?’
Infuriatingly patient, she replied, ‘If you were swimming the Channel and got cramp a quarter of the way across, you’d swim back to England rather than continue to France, wouldn’t you?’
‘The Channel? What are you on about?’
‘When we got split up, I went back the way we’d come without too much trouble.’
I felt like an idiot but didn’t care. We were both here.
‘Then I caught a taxi, also easily enough.’
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘My phone’s dead. Or was. I put it on charge before jumping in the pool. The maps app is a nightmare battery-wise. GPS software always –’
‘Shut up about software!’ I said and – I couldn’t stop myself – I grabbed her wet shoulders with both hands and pulled her to me.
She was stiff in my arms for a second, but she didn’t pull away. She let me hold her. If anything, she relaxed. She smelled of sunscreen and chlorine. Quietly, into my ear, she said, ‘Pretty sketchy afternoon. But hey, we’re OK.’
Over her shoulder Xander hobbled out to the poolside. He didn’t smirk or wink or say anything, but the fact of him brought me to my senses.
‘I’ll fetch Marcel’s number,’ I said, stepping back from Amelia.
‘Possibly have a shower while you’re at it, or a swim?’ she said.
Reaching us, Xander said, ‘Before you head off, you might want to hear my news.’
‘What news?’ I asked him.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said. ‘It’s good, possibly, no … probably, I’d say.’
‘Has your dad come up with a way –’
‘Nothing to do with him, no,’ he said.
He appeared quietly pleased with himself, much like I’ve seen him look at school when he’s effortlessly persuaded a teacher to extend a homework deadline, or smooth-talked his way out of a detention.
‘Who then?’ I asked, trying to keep a lid on the hope bubbling within me.
‘I’ve just got back from paying your uncle a little visit, and I think I may have persuaded him to change his mind,’ he said.
‘How?!’
‘After you two went off I had a bit of time to think, and I realised we’d missed a trick. No disrespect to Langdon, but the most important thing in his world is his precious mining business, yes?’
I nodded.
‘And he’s not keen on the environmental protections your parents are lobbying for, is he?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Red tape – that’s what he called it.’
‘The phrase rings a bell.’
‘Well, I pointed out that the only way to stop your parents becoming martyrs to the environmental cause – and drawing massive attention to it – is to secure their release. If we don’t pay and the kidnappers do what they’ve said they will, which I’m sure is an empty threat but still, the eco-warriors will say Nicholas and Janine were silenced because of what they were trying to achieve. The publicity for their cause would blow up globally, making it far more likely to succeed. But if they’re released, the story goes away.’
‘You told him that?’
‘More or less. I wrapped it up nicely by suggesting we’re far more likely to catch the kidnappers if we engage with them. ‘
‘True. Probably,’ said Amelia.
Xander shrugged: ‘And of course I made the whole thing seem like it was probably what he’d planned to do anyway. People love it when they think they’ve come up with a good idea themselves.’
‘Amazing.’
‘It seemed to work, as I say, but there’s no guarantee.’
Xander was trying to be understated, but I could tell he was optimistic. I know first-hand how persuasive he can be. Particularly with adults. He has this knack of making them feel good about themselves. I’ve mentioned it before, the way he is with my parents, asking them questions and listening to the answers, looking like he’s really interested. They’d do anything for him. Langdon’s a tough nut to crack though. Making him think selfishly was a stroke of genius by Xander. It could definitely have changed his mind.
‘How did you leave it?’ I asked.
‘He agreed it would be wise to have the money ready just in case. If the situation hasn’t changed between now and the deadline, at least then we can choose whether or not to pay off the kidnappers; without the money we won’t have that option. Again, I made it clear he’d no doubt thought of that and sourced the cash already, making it easy for him to say of course he had.’
‘He could have,’ said Amelia.
‘Sure,’ said Xander, suppressing a smile.
Realising I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, I let out a long breath and steadied myself. ‘We’ll see,’ I said.
42.
Though I called again and again that evening and throughout the following day, I couldn’t get through to Marcel. Xander and Amelia tried too. We all left messages. But neither Marcel the guide nor Yannick the travel operator answered our calls. With each hour that passed it seemed somehow less likely we’d ever manage to contact them.
Would Langdon bring the ransom money? As the deadline loomed ever larger I started to lose hope. By the next day even Xander’s quiet confidence seemed to have evaporated. Our conversation withered and died. My uncle had promised to be at the hotel at midday on Friday. Half an hour before then Amelia, Xander and I were waiting together in the bar area. We ordered club sandwiches at Amelia’s insistence, but I couldn’t eat mine. The minute hand swept past twelve o’clock, and Langdon didn’t show up. At half past twelve he still wasn’t there. One o’clock: ditto. I watched the ice melt in my untouched Coke as the corners of my sandwich curled.
Just as I was about to crack, call my uncle and demand an explanation, he strode through reception. He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t read his expression as he approached. He was also wearing a plain white shirt today. That unnerved me. I’d never have expected it, but I missed the reassurance of his usual Hawaiian swirls. I noticed that he took the seat next to Xander instead of the nearer one, beside me. He made himself comfortable. I couldn’t help checking my watch.
‘Ah, yes, sorry I’m a little late.’ He sounded more frustrated than sorry. ‘I was hoping for a breakthrough before I set off, but sadly it turned out to be a red herring.’
Xander leaned forward, made an expectant steeple of his fingers, and asked, ‘Does that mean you’re switching to plan B?’
Langdon looked at the three of us in turn, taking what seemed an eternity before replying. ‘I thought, on reflection, I would,’ he said at last, and drummed his fingers on the leather flap of his briefcase.
The sign seemed obvious enough, but I needed confirmation. ‘You’ve brought the money?’ I said.
‘I’m not happy about it, but … yes. Thanks to your friend here.’ He nodded a smile in Xander’s direction. ‘It makes sense given the … err … context.’
Amelia drew breath – to interrogate this vagueness, I was sure – but I cut across her with, ‘Thank you. Dad said he’d pay you back straight away.’
‘The money’s not the point, Jack,’ Langdon explained, as if to an idiot. ‘It’s the principle. When all’s said and done, I don’t want either of us to ha
ve paid a single dollar’s ransom.’
For one awful moment I thought he might be about to reverse his decision, but Xander said, ‘Your idea of using marked banknotes is a good one though. It increases our chances of catching the kidnappers. In a way the money is just a lure.’
Langdon was nodding along with this, but Amelia interjected. ‘I imagine they’ll have thought about that: money-laundering is a thing.’
I shot her a what-the-hell look, but Xander immediately said, ‘That’s harder to do than you think, isn’t it, Langdon?’ and mercifully my uncle ignored her interruption in favour of more nodding in Xander’s direction. Realising she’d misspoken, Amelia stood up abruptly, stripped to her swimming costume, dived into the pool and started swimming laps: her way of saying sorry, I suppose.
She tore up and down that pool for ages. By the time she’d finished, got changed and returned, it was almost time for me to leave. The museum wasn’t far away, but I wanted to head off the chance of being delayed en route. Langdon kept checking his phone while we waited, no doubt hoping for last-minute news that would protect his precious $75,000, but none came. Reluctantly he said his driver would take us to the museum.
‘Nobody but me is allowed in to drop off the money though,’ I said. ‘I’m to put it under my mother’s scarf at the foot of the statue for four o’clock, on my own, and leave. The guy was very clear about that.’
‘We know,’ Langdon replied through gritted teeth.
‘Shall we get going then?’ I said.
Every step Langdon took towards the SUV hurt, I could tell. And the short trip to the museum, his phone still silent, was agony for him. I just wanted the drop-off over and done with so that we could return to the hotel. Mum and Dad would be there then, because that’s what the kidnapper had promised. I had to believe him. We pulled up outside the museum with twenty-five minutes to spare. They ticked away horribly slowly. With five to go Langdon finally pulled a brown envelope from his briefcase and handed it over. I could have hugged him. But he’s not the hugging type at the best of times, and at that moment I think he’d have punched me if I’d so much as touched him. So I simply took the envelope from him and let myself out of the car. I bought a ticket for the museum with my own money and worked my way through the grounds to the statue of Leopold sitting on his towering horse. The last time I’d visited, the museum had been deserted. Today a group of sweating tourists were having a guided tour. I had to wait for them to clear off before I could approach the statue, with just seconds to go before 4 p.m. Something twisted inside me at the sight of my mother’s grey and pink headscarf, balled up next to one of the horse’s front feet. It looked like it had been trampled. But I recognised it as hers, more proof the kidnapper had told the truth. If I did my bit, they would do theirs. The tour guide’s chatter faded as the group disappeared from view. I darted between the horse’s front legs, slid the envelope beneath the scarf and left without looking back.
43.
Langdon and I made the return trip in silence. I assumed he was angry at having paid off the kidnappers. There was no point in apologising: Dad would sort him out soon. Dad and Mum. I couldn’t wait to see them. From the back seat I willed the driver to put his foot down, but inevitably we hit traffic. Some guy on a motorbike had apparently taken out a fruit stand. They were loading him into an ambulance while the cars failed to swerve around pulped melons spread across the road. I was surprised I wasn’t more annoyed by the delay and realised that I was as nervous of reaching the hotel as I was desperate to get there. The fact I was nervous made me more worried still. My gut was telling me to brace for bad news. I didn’t want to trust my instincts, but I knew they were usually right.
The delay was torture. I decided to call Amelia; she might be able to put me out of my misery. I hit call’, then wished I hadn’t, but she answered almost immediately so I had no chance to end the call before it had begun.
‘Any news?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said.
I bit my tongue, then, when she didn’t offer any more, said, ‘Amelia, is it good or bad?’
‘Good,’ she replied, and my heart, which I now realised had been hammering away in my chest, skipped a beat entirely.
‘Great!’ I said. ‘Tell me they’re both OK?’
‘Ah, no. I mean, I don’t know. Not yet, but Xander received a call.’
‘Xander? What about? From who? Put him on!’
Xander had evidently heard Amelia’s end of the conversation and reverse-engineered mine. He was quick to apologise, though he needn’t have: my literal genius friend wasn’t his fault. ‘It’s goodish news, in a limited sort of way,’ he said. ‘Marcel called. He picked up our messages and said that he’s been in touch with Yannick, who did indeed organise your parents’ trip east. But he didn’t accompany them himself. He took them to the airport, but he had business to attend to in Kinshasa so arranged for an associate to chaperone them from Goma. Marcel doesn’t know who that associate was, and Yannick’s been out of contact since Innocent died. Marcel heard he was dealing with the funeral arrangements. It’d be understandable if monitoring your folks’ whereabouts hasn’t been top of his to-do list. But it looks like they did set off for Goma, en route to the mines.’
Langdon was regarding me closely as I listened to Xander. His eyebrows were up, expectant, to start with. Then they dropped with his shoulders when he realised Mum and Dad hadn’t been released. Had I been hard on him? Perhaps his silence had been more angry than anxious. He wanted good news too, obviously.
‘But look,’ Xander was saying, ‘all this is probably beside the point. If you’ve made the drop, then we can expect to see them any minute. Where are you?’
‘Stuck in traffic, or we were.’
‘You’ll be here soon?’
‘Yeah,’ I said sadly, as the hotel swung into view.
‘So don’t worry – they’re probably stuck in traffic too.’
‘Sure,’ I said. We rocked to a stop. The driver pulled up the handbrake with a finality that made my skin shiver.
Langdon and I climbed down from the truck slowly. We were astronauts wading through treacle: neither of us wanted to arrive in that hotel and find my parents weren’t there. But I knew they wouldn’t be. I’d known before I called Amelia. To his credit Langdon didn’t make a meal of it. He sat with us that evening as the minutes ticked into hours without his brother and sister-in-law arriving, and he didn’t utter a word of told-you-so. In fact he tried to comfort me. First he said the kidnappers might be waiting to release Mum and Dad after dark, and when that didn’t happen he said, ‘Look, it may not have worked, but making the payment can’t have made your mum and dad’s situation worse.’
I supposed not.
‘No doubt the kidnappers will be back in touch soon,’ he said.
‘If only to ask for more money,’ added Amelia unhelpfully.
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,’ Langdon said, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he rose. ‘In the meantime, let me check with my people to see if they’ve turned up any leads. Stay put, keep your chin up and I guarantee we’ll get to the bottom of this soon.’
He headed for his car. As soon as he was out of sight I stood up and started pacing around the pool. God I hated that pool. Pacing was pointless too. But blind hope plus sitting still? That was the very last thing I could do.
44.
I’d been marching around the hotel grounds for some time before they turned the pool lights off. Now I had a black hole to circle instead of bright blueness. It suited my mood better, I suppose. The blackness couldn’t be trusted. It was a hole my parents had been sucked into. Orbiting it, I felt so alone. Without my parents I was a rock tumbling through empty space. I made a decision. Mum and Dad had last been seen heading east. Come what may, and ignoring Langdon, I’d make the same journey. With Marcel’s help I’d track down whoever had chaperoned them to the mines. I’d retrace their steps. I’d find them.
Possibly because I stay
ed up so late, both Xander and Amelia both beat me down to breakfast. I was hungry so ordered a full English. I’ll say one thing for the hotel: it had a very international menu. While waiting for my breakfast to arrive I filled my friends in on my plan. They exchanged a knowing glance before I finished talking.
‘I thought you might say that,’ said Xander when I shut up.
‘Knew it actually,’ Amelia agreed. ‘Or at least thought it so obviously likely we’ve already started getting organised.’
‘How?!’
‘Remember Joseph, the pilot who flew us here after we were diverted?’
‘Of course.’
‘Me too. Unlike you though, I also remember the number he had written on the back of his clipboard. I called him. He’s flying you and me back to Goma.’ Amelia checked her watch. ‘In an hour and half’s time.’
‘And Marcel is going to meet you at the airport,’ Xander added. ‘He reckons he’s worked out who Yannick would have lined up to look after your folks. Or at least he’s narrowed it down.’
‘But how –’
Xander cut me off, spinning a credit card next to his coffee cup. ‘The ransom money was beyond my reach, but this worked to pay Joseph. I’ll hold the fort here, smooth things over with Langdon when he turns up.’ He tapped the card on his plaster cast and said, ‘I’d break a leg to come with you, but it seems I already have.’
I was gobsmacked they’d done all this before I’d even got up. ‘Am I that predictable?’ was all I said.
‘Pretty much,’ said Amelia. ‘Waiting, and being bossed around by people – named Langdon or otherwise – has never been your thing.’ She put her hand on my arm as she said this, then swiftly took it away again. A warm shiver went through me nevertheless.
I immediately turned to Xander. ‘Thanks guys,’ I said.
‘Better eat up and gather your stuff,’ Amelia said. ‘The cab will be here soon.’