by Tom Bale
Joe ran past the escalators, giving them a cursory glance, and then
spotted Jaden. He was being led out of the store by a peculiar-looking
woman wearing trainers and a bulky plastic raincoat. She had big,
unruly blonde hair that didn’t sit right on her head: a wig.
She was pulling on Jaden’s hand and he was twisting away from
her, trying to break free. When he saw Joe he shouted, causing the
woman to hesitate. She was wearing dark glasses, and the collar of
her raincoat was turned up. A bizarre sight in the middle of a heatwave,
but it meant she’d be virtually impossible to identify from CCTV
images.
As soon as she recognised Joe, the woman abruptly released Jaden.
The momentum sent him flying. He lost his balance and fell heavily
on his front. As he landed, several small objects slipped from his hand
and went skidding across the floor.
Sweets.
The woman was already sprinting away. With Jaden wailing at his
feet, Joe knew he couldn’t go after her. He scooped the boy up, offered
a few soothing words, but his mind was working frantically. The sweets
hinted at something organised: a concerted attempt to lure Jaden away.
First at Modelzone, and now here.
But why? And why give up so easily? With a little more care the
woman could have kept Jaden quiet, and gained vital seconds to abduct
him.
There was only one obvious explanation. Jaden wasn’t their target
at all.
He was a decoy.
Drawn by Jaden’s cries, a shop assistant was hurrying forward. Joe
made a quick, positive assessment. She was a middle-aged woman.
Probably a mother herself, judging by the concern on her face.
'I need you to watch him for me,’ he said, thrusting Jaden into her
arms. 'It’s a family emergency. I’ll be back in one minute.’
He sprinted towards the section where he’d left Cassie, realising
the store was all but empty. A perfect opportunity to strike.
Cassie was just about where he expected to find her. She hadn’t
gone far. The sight that greeted him wasn’t totally unexpected either.
Two men had moved in on her. One tall, one short, but both in
good shape. They wore jeans and T-shirts and baseball caps. The tall
one had attacked Cassie from behind, pinning her arms at her side
and clamping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t scream but she
was making a low-pitched keening noise. She was writhing and kicking,
desperately trying to fight her way free.
The other man, the short one, was crouched over the buggy,
fumbling with the clasp that held the wailing, terrified Sofia in place.
They’d obviously counted on the diversion to give them enough time.
In normal circumstances Joe could have been expected to stay with
Jaden, comforting him, perhaps talking to the store’s security staff, not
returning to Cassie for at least a minute or two. Long enough for them
to overpower her and make off with their real target.
As he ran towards them the short one sensed his approach and half
rose, as if unsure how to react. His movement brought him within
Cassie’s range, and she lashed out with her foot and caught him in
the groin. He staggered backwards, but still managed to shout a
warning.
In turning to gauge the threat, the tall man must have relaxed his
grip on Cassie. She struggled free and hurled herself at his partner,
letting out a screech of rage as she clubbed at his head, pushing him
away from Sofia. The tall man forgot her and moved into a defensive
stance, ready to deal with Joe.
Closing the distance to less than ten feet, Joe skidded to a halt.
Without the element of surprise, there was no advantage in launching
an attack at speed. More likely that his momentum would be used
against him, especially if these men knew what they were doing.
There was a shout from behind him. Joe couldn’t risk reacting to
it, but the tall man must have assumed he would. He lunged forward,
swinging a punch with his right hand. Joe dodged it with ease, but
didn’t fully anticipate the follow-up: a lightning fast blow to the
stomach.
The impact caused him to double over, but as he did he drove
himself forward, butting the man on the chin. He followed up with
a couple of sharp chops to the man’s upper arm, wanting to take the
sting out of any further punches.
Another shout, loud and urgent. Joe was aware of the tall man
backing away, blood leaking from a split lip, his sunglasses dangling
from one ear. He shot an uncertain glance at his partner. Cassie was
snarling and fighting like a demon, until a blow to the face sent her
sprawling into a rack of dresses.
Both men turned and fled towards the back of the store, just as two
of the centre’s security team appeared.
'What happened?’ one of them asked.
'Tried to mug us,’ Joe said. It was the most logical answer, and it
sent the security men off in pursuit, which suited him fine.
After a few paces, the one who’d spoken thought to break his stride
and call back: 'Wait there.’
Joe nodded, but he had no intention of complying. He helped
Cassie to her feet, brushed some hair from her face and examined
her carefully. She had the beginnings of a nasty bruise on her cheek.
Are you okay?’
'Where’s Jaden?’
'He’s all right. But we have to get out of here.’
As he said it, Cassie’s face softened with relief. The shop assistant
was approaching, Jaden running ahead of her. He threw his arms
around his mother.
'What’s going on?’ the assistant asked.
'Wish I knew,’ said Joe. He spotted an exit sign at the far end of
the store. 'Can we reach the car park from there?’
The assistant nodded, looking worried. Yes, but shouldn’t you — ?’
'We’re all right. Thanks again.’
He made sure Sofia was still strapped in. The poor girl was sobbing,
but unharmed. Joe grabbed the buggy and set off, Cassie and Jaden sticking close to his side. If Cassie was troubled about his decision
not to wait for the police, she showed no sign of it.
Probably just wanted to get the hell out of here, he thought. His
own concern was that the woman had first approached Jaden outside
the model shop, so this represented their second attempt. And if
they were willing to try twice, there was no good reason to believe they
wouldn’t try a third time.
Twenty
The American chuckled quietly, without much humour.
You have Bobby Felton living, what, a hundred yards along the
street? And yet you drag me all the way over here from the States.’
'Our thinking’, said McWhirter with a silky charm, 'was that Mr Felton
wouldn’t be quite so receptive to a direct approach. Not at this stage.’
'Huh. So I’m an emissary, is that it? The go-between.’
'More than that,’ Nasenko assured him. 'Believe me, this will be
of great benefit to you.’
'Doing what, exactly?’
'We have a number of, ah, opportunities to exploit in Central Asia,’
said McWhi
rter. 'Specifically the republic of Kajitestan.’
'Oil and natural gas. And certain mineral rights. The new president
is a man I’ve known for many years.’
Yeah, I heard you got good connections over there.’
'But we need other connections, too. In America, and in Britain.
We need to know how their administrations will react to our plans.
And we need to be sure we have a market in these countries.’
'That’s where me and Bobby come in?’
McWhirter: 'We know Mr Felton has close relationships with a
variety of key individuals, not just in the present government, but,
more importantly, with their likely successors.’
Nasenko added, 'The next general election in Britain must be held
by June 2010. A new government would be very good news for Felton,
I think?’
Another pause. Then Travers barked: 'That all you want from him?’
'I don’t understand . . .’
Any venture worth pursuing, usually it needs some kind of startup
capital. Especially when it involves one of those shit-ass Central
Asian republics. You need security, equipment, manpower. You need
to pay a lot of bribes. It all costs, and from what I’ve heard, you’re not
exactly “cash-rich” at the moment.’
The silence felt charged with tension. McWhirter cleared his throat,
a sound that eloquently communicated his desire to be anywhere but
in this meeting. His boss’s response was a lot more forthright.
'These are just rumours, spread by my enemies.’
You’re saying you haven’t taken a big hit lately?’
'I repeat, it is just lies. I have all the money I need for this project.’
'But if you or Mr Felton want to put up a stake,’ McWhirter added,
“I’m sure there won’t be any objections.’
'We do not come begging for money.’ Nasenko spoke harshly over
his adviser. 'The purpose of this meeting is to offer an olive branch.
We need Felton’s connections. He will also benefit from mine. That
is the nature of business, is it not? To put bad feelings aside and work
together for maximum profit.’
'Well, it sounds fair enough to me. Can’t say what Bobby’s gonna
think of it.’ There was shuffling, a heavy exhalation. 'Will you guys
point me in the direction of the John? I need to take a leak.’
Incidental noises, the thump and clang of footsteps, then a distant
door closing. Instantly the remaining voices became low and conspiratorial.
'I
don’t like it, Valentin. When you propose a deal like this you
should do it from a position of strength.’
And we are. This is a greedy man we have here. You saw his eyes
light up when I talked about Kajitestan. If the rewards are right, he
will help us.’
'Do you think he can bring Felton on board?’
'I am sure of it. Another very greedy man.’
'But what about finance? We are going to need Felton’s capital.’ A
heartfelt sigh from McWhirter. 'I don’t mind telling you, Valentin,
I’m out of my comfort zone.’
'You worry too much.’
You pay me to worry, remember?’
'Well, now I am paying you to stop worrying for a change.’ Nasenko
chuckled, then put on some kind of accent that he must have imagined
was American. 'This time, go with the flow!
Twenty-One
At the western end of the store there was a small lobby with two lifts
and a door to the stairs. The car park beneath the centre had three
levels. The Shogun was on the lowest. Joe instinctively preferred to
take the stairs, despite a warning sign on the door that these were for
emergency use only. But he recognised that, with Sofia in a buggy,
the lift was a better option. It was certainly no slower or more exposed
than carrying two children down three flights of steps.
No one else got in with them, and when the doors closed Cassie
dropped to her knees and tried to console Sofia while simultaneously
hugging Jaden. Sounding remarkably composed, she made light of
what had happened, explaining that it had all been a silly mistake. A
kind of game.
'It’s all finished now,’ she said. 'No one’s going to scare you like
that any more.’
Joe listened, fuming quietly. But he knew this wasn’t the time to
reproach himself for his failures. That would have to come later, when
he’d got them to safety.
He was also busy reviewing what had happened, trying to extract
as much information as possible from the limited data available. The
first thing to determine was precisely when the would-be kidnappers
had begun stalking them.
If the woman was the same one who’d given Jaden a sweet outside
Modelzone, it meant they had been followed from West Street, at
least, and probably earlier. The Lanes had been crowded with tourists:
not an ideal environment in which to carry out an abduction. Prior
to that, the car park itself would have been the perfect place to mount
an attack.
Mindful of this, Joe was first out of the lifts and made sure it was
safe before beckoning Cassie to follow. The car park was virtually
deserted. Lots of vacant spaces and only a handful of vehicles on the
move, none of them suspicious.
That was good news, in some ways. Bad news in others. For the
kidnappers to have ignored such an ideal location suggested they didn’t
know where Joe had parked. That, in turn, meant they hadn’t followed
the Shogun into Brighton. They must have acquired their target somewhere
else.
This was clearly no ad hoc operation. Using Jaden as a decoy showed
evidence of detailed planning. The kidnappers must have required and
possessed – knowledge of Cassie’s whereabouts. But the decision
to go shopping in Churchill Square had been entirely spontaneous,
as had the window-gazing outside Modelzone. There was only one
destination that had been prearranged.
Merrion and Son.
By sheer good fortune Joe had found a space close to the pay station,
which meant he was able to feed the machine and still watch over
Cassie as she helped the children into the car. While he waited for
the machine to print the exit ticket, he considered who had known
they were visiting the jeweller’s this afternoon.
Valentin Nasenko, of course. McWhirter and Yuri, and maybe even
Maria. Then the jeweller himself, Merrion Junior, and his old man.
Perhaps some other staff, although there couldn’t be many, given the
size of the shop.
Not good. These all seemed like fair assumptions, and what they
told him was very ominous.
He grabbed the ticket and ran to the car. Cassie had elected to sit
in the back, with the children either side of her. That way she could
maintain physical contact with them and still communicate with Joe
when necessary. Not that she showed much sign of wanting to do that.
He got in, started the engine and followed the signs towards the
exit. He brooded on Cassie’s behaviour. She’d been scared, but also
very brave. Joe felt huge admiration for the way she had fought the
two men.
She wasn’t ordering him to drive to the nearest police station. He
could see that she might be reluctant to discuss it in front of the children,
but he would have expected a more forceful reaction than this.
When the barrier came up, Joe drove out and cast a quick look in
each direction. They were in a short access road that ran behind
Brighton’s conference centre and the Grand Hotel. There were junctions
at each end that would lead him down to the seafront, but the
one to the left, into West Street, was controlled by traffic lights.
He went right. Straightened up, accelerated, then made a smooth
left into Cannon Place without having to stop. It was a short run down
to the next junction, where the lights were on red. He checked the
mirror: no one behind him. He took the right-hand lane and waited
for the question that never came.
The Blue Anchor hotel was in the opposite direction.
Joe gave some thought to whether the hotel, part-owned by Valentin,
would have been a better location for the kidnappers to strike. He
decided not. It was small and well staffed, and usually at full capacity.
Cassie was due to meet up with half a dozen friends, most of them
from the stage school she’d attended in her teens. All staying the night,
on Valentin’s tab. There would scarcely be a moment when Cassie
and the children weren’t surrounded by people.
That first point lingered in Joe’s mind. The Blue Anchor was Nasenko
territory.
When the lights turned green he pulled across the A259 into the
westbound carriageway and immediately joined a line of slow-moving
traffic. To his left, the rotting hulk of the West Pier crouched in the
water like a gigantic rusting birdcage. The sea around it was a gentle
milky blue. Crowds of people on the beach: swimming, sunbathing,
drinking. The perfect way to kick off a weekend.
Joe checked the mirror again. Saw Cassie staring at her lap, a
furious concentration on her face. She felt his gaze and her head
snapped up.
'What?’
You haven’t asked where we’re going.’
'I don’t care. As long as we get away from here.’
“I’m not sure if it’s wise to go to the hotel.’
'Fine. I can ring the others, make up some excuse.’
'I only meant it’s not a good idea right now. We can probably go
back later.’