Closing the door quietly behind her, she switched on the overhead light. A quick glance around the room confirmed she was alone, and yes … there was his laptop still sitting on the table.
There didn’t appear to be signs of much decorating going on as of yet, and the place looked tired and scruffy. Not the sort of place she could imagine Simon being happy in for long.
Moving quickly over to the table, she unplugged the computer and was just picking it up in her arms when, for the second time that night, the sound of a key in the lock had her freezing in her tracks.
No time to move or dive under a table this time, the door was flung open and a tall, fair-haired man stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes doing a quick scan of the room to make sure she was alone, before coming back to pin her in his gaze. In spite of the cold night, he was wearing a thin, black T-shirt and jeans, with running shoes. He looked fit and she gave her chances a big fat zero if it came to a dash for it. The smile on his face was no smile at all.
‘Hello…’ he said softly. ‘What have we got here?’
The menace in his tone sent volts of electricity shooting through her. She stared back at him like a trapped rabbit, Simon’s laptop weighing incriminatingly in her hands.
‘I uh …’
More chills swept up her spine as he shut the door quietly behind him and began to advance slowly towards her.
‘It better be good, sweetheart. I’m not the most patient of men. I’ll ask you again. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m a friend of Simon’s,’ she said nervously. ‘I dropped by to borrow his laptop. He’s out at a friend’s for dinner tonight but he gave me the key and said to let myself in.’
Her voice grew in strength as she trotted out her prepared lines. She’d considered that it might go wrong – of course she had – but she couldn’t have predicted how vulnerable she’d feel now it had. He stopped a couple of feet in front of her, blocking her escape. He seemed to fill the whole room, but she held her ground, trying not to panic.
‘A friend, you say? And how long have you known him?’
‘Oh, forever,’ she returned, confident in that fact at least.
‘So I’m guessing you’re Kirsty?’
That unseated her. Her eyes widened. ‘Uh, yes … that’s right. How do you know that? Who are you?’
The man’s eyes bore into hers. ‘I’m Tim Burman. I keep an eye on things for Simon when he’s not around. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been trying to get in touch with me?’
Oh crap.
‘Ah, right. Yes … I have.’
He pulled a phone from his pocket and speed-dialled a number. Then he said in a low voice, ‘I’m in your flat and Kirsty Cartwright’s here. She had a key and let herself in. Says you know about it and said she could borrow your laptop.’
Kirsty’s heart sank. Now she was in deep shit. Tim Burman’s eyes fixed on her as he listened to the reply.
‘Well, get back here as soon as you can. We’ll be up in the flat.’
He ended the call and looked at her. ‘Looks like you haven’t been telling me the truth, Kirsty. Simon didn’t sound at all happy that you were here.’
The sound of her phone bleeping in her pocket made her jump. Her eyes locked with Tim Burman’s.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ he asked conversationally. ‘See who’s trying to contact you?’
‘It’s probably just my mum seeing what time I’ll be home.’
‘Why don’t you look at it and see?’
She didn’t want to give up her only contact with the outside world. She cursed that she hadn’t put it on silent. Stupid.
‘Really … it won’t be urgent.’
‘Look at it.’ There was no mistaking the threat in his voice, and pulling the phone from her pocket with shaky fingers, Kirsty entered her code. He snatched the phone from her hand and looked at the screen.
‘It’s from Luke.’ He smiled. ‘He says all’s well now and he’ll meet you at Mark’s.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘Who’s Luke?’
‘A friend.’
‘Why’s he texting you?’
She thought quickly. ‘Because we’re meeting up at Mark’s for a takeaway and a film. They’re expecting me.’
‘So you’re going to text him back saying something’s come up and you won’t be able to make it. Tell him you’ll catch up with him tomorrow.’
Tim Burman thrust the phone at her, removing the laptop from her arms at the same time and putting it back down on the table. ‘Do it. And don’t try anything clever.’
She had the terrifying sensation of being totally out of control and she tried to claw back some authority. ‘Now look here … I don’t know what all this is about, but Simon wouldn’t be happy about you treating me like this–’
‘You’d be very stupid to take me for a fool, Kirsty.’ He pulled a knife from his pocket. ‘I’d hate to have to use this and make an even bigger mess of Simon’s décor, but I’m not playing games here. Now text your Luke. Dictate it, so I can hear exactly what you’re saying.’
Kirsty looked at the text Luke had sent. Her fingers were shaking so much she could barely make out the words. ‘All finished here now. On my way to Mark’s, I’ll see you there. ETA?’
She tried to think clearly. What could she say to alert him without also alerting Tim Burman?
‘Unfortunately something’s come up and I can’t meet up with you and Mark tonight. Enjoy the film and I’ll call you tomorrow.’
Tim Burman grabbed the phone, checked the message and then pressed Send, before putting it in his pocket.
‘Right, we’re going upstairs now.’ He flicked the knife in the direction of the door. ‘Move.’
Kirsty didn’t budge. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re crazy. You can’t go around pulling knives on people and kidnapping them.’
‘Can’t I?’
His cruel smile looked out of place on the deceptively handsome face. ‘I’ve got away with it a few times in the past. Don’t see why this should be any different. Now do as you’re told and move – and don’t try anything silly. There’s nowhere for you to run and no one to hear if you scream. That’s the beauty of these old houses – thick walls. It’s unlikely the neighbours would even hear.’
Even so, her instinct for self-preservation kicked in with surprising force as she went for it – uttering such a loud, piercing scream that it made him recoil with shock for just a second, before he lunged out and grabbed her, swinging her round so that one hand was rammed over her mouth to silence her, while the other brought the knife up to her throat.
‘Do that again and you’re dead,’ he spat. ‘And you better know I mean it.’
She felt the shocking prick of the blade as he deliberately pierced the skin, the warmth of her own blood as it trickled down her neck. She let out a terrified gasp.
‘Next time it will go deeper. Now do as I say, and move. We’re going out of the flat and upstairs to mine – and no more tricks. Do you understand me?’
She nodded, still reeling from the shock of that knife slicing her skin. She offered no resistance as he twisted her left arm up her back and shoved her towards the door and out into the hall.
Upstairs in his flat she wasn’t surprised to see Bulldog, and he didn’t seem surprised to see her. Around the table by the window sat the half dozen or so people she’d seen entering the house earlier. They were all looking at her fixedly.
‘Told you it was her,’ Bulldog muttered. ‘Recognised the car. Nosy bitch ain’t the sort to give up.’
‘To her cost now,’ Tim replied, throwing her roughly down onto the settee. ‘It was a good thing you saw her, but we could have done without this tonight.’
‘What are you going to do with her?’
Kirsty couldn’t believe what was happening. She stared up at them in silence, knowing that whatever they decided it wasn’t going to be good news. She looked from one to the other, then at the peopl
e around the table. The atmosphere was fraught with tension.
‘I don’t know yet. We need to sort this lot out first. But she’s seen too much.’
‘Just like her father did,’ Bulldog said, looking directly at her as he said it.
She jumped on his words. ‘What do you mean? What did he see?’
‘Never you mind.’
But she was catching on now, the images she’d seen coming together, as she filtered and processed them. The two people she’d observed arriving that first time she’d come here, when Bulldog had peered out of the window; the people sitting round the table – their faces, now she studied them more closely, filled with confusion and apprehension. They looked foreign and you didn’t need to be an expert in body language to see the tension and vulnerability emanating from them as their eyes flicked to each other, frightened and disorientated. She recalled how they’d almost seemed to tumble out of the white van, exhausted and dishevelled as they’d walk up the path to the house. Comprehension dawned.
‘You’re people smugglers…’ she said, her eyes turning back to Tim in shock.
‘Aren’t you the clever one? Take her into the bedroom and tie her up,’ he said to Bulldog. ‘We’ll decide what we’re doing with her when Simon gets here.’
‘Simon’s involved in all this? I don’t believe it.’
She felt herself being hauled roughly up from the settee.
‘Then don’t.’ He was already turning away from her, his mind clearly on more important things as she was dragged off into one of the bedrooms.
‘Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way,’ Bulldog said to her grimly, throwing her down onto the bed and pulling a length of rope from one of the drawers. Which is it gonna be?’
Common sense told her there was no point fighting him: she’d learnt that lesson if nothing else tonight. She lay quietly as he pulled her hands together behind her back, trying to keep just a chink between her fingers in the vain hope that at some point it might make it a little easier to work them free. He worked swiftly and deftly, and five minutes later, she was trussed neatly as a chicken, hands and legs – with a gag between her lips for good measure.
‘Don’t try to be clever,’ was Bulldog’s parting shot as he left her on the bed. ‘Otherwise we might just have to chuck you out the window head first and be done with you.’
She didn’t doubt for one moment that he’d do it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Luke sat at the traffic lights, waiting for them to turn green, and heard his mobile ping. Kirsty – thank God for that. He grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. But as he read the message he frowned. Her reply made no sense at all.
He stared at the message and his blood chilled. Had something gone wrong? Was she trying to tell him something?
His first instinct was to turn around and head straight back to Barnet, but he was only two minutes from Mark’s now, and forcing himself to think rationally, he decided to offload the computer first so that Mark could at least get to work on that.
He took a minute to think about a carefully worded reply. Her message had been deliberately neutral and if she was in any sort of trouble then his needed to be the same, but he also needed to know if she was okay.
‘That’s a shame. What’s up? Hope it’s nothing serious?’
As he pulled into Mark’s driveway a few minutes later, he still hadn’t received a reply.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Mark asked in horrified tones. ‘You never told me the computer was stolen.’
‘It’s not,’ Luke said tersely. ‘It’s borrowed. The plan is to return it tonight before he even realises it’s gone.’
‘Luke–’
‘I know.’
‘You’re a solicitor.’
‘I know that, too.’
And it worried him. He’d acted illegally tonight; there was no escaping it. He could be struck off by the SDT if it came out. But the realisation was no more than a fleeting notion in his head before it was instantly dismissed. He realised now what he should always have realised … that without Kirsty his life was meaningless anyway.
‘I get that Kirsty means a lot to you–’
‘I’d do the same for any friend,’ Luke interrupted impatiently, ‘wouldn’t you? All we’re asking is that you delete any video footage of her and Simon Jordan. No one should be able to get away with doing that sort of thing, Mark – not unless it’s by mutual consent.’
‘I realise that, but I don’t like the sound of it.’
‘And you think I do? How would you feel if it was Linda someone had done that to? Look, I haven’t got time to argue about this now. I’m worried Kirsty might be in trouble and I need to go and find her. I’m asking you as a mate to do this. Just find any compromising stuff that’s got Kirsty on it and wipe it. I’ll hope to be back in an hour or so to pick it up again.’ He looked at his watch and hesitated. It was nine-thirty.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but … if you haven’t heard from me in the next hour – call the police and report us missing. If everything’s alright, I’ll definitely call you before then to let you know.’ He racked his brains, trying to remember the name of the detective Kirsty had said was handling her father’s case. Hiskin? Hascombe? The name eluded him and he swore under his breath. ‘If you don’t hear from me and you call them, just mention that there may be a connection to the death of Dominic Cartwright. And here …’
He pulled a pen out and scribbled something on a scrap of paper that was lying on the coffee table. ‘This is Simon Jordan’s address. It’s where Kirsty was heading and where I’m off to now.’
‘I don’t like the sound of this. Maybe I should come with you?’
‘No. The best thing you can do is get to work on that computer – please. I’ll be fine. But, as I say … if I haven’t rung you within the next hour, then call the police.’
‘Okay … if you say so, but for God’s sake be careful.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Luke said grimly. ‘I will.’
Outside Simon Jordan’s flat, Luke looked about him. His heart missed a beat as he spotted Kirsty’s Mini parked on the other side of the road. He moved quickly over to it. It was empty.
Where the hell was she? He’d tried to call her from his car but she hadn’t picked up – and she hadn’t responded to his text. He looked back in the direction of Simon’s flat, noting the dim lighting. It didn’t look like anyone was there, but he needed to make sure and there was only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the road, walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
No response.
He looked at his phone for the hundredth time. His anxiety was getting the better of him. In fact it was getting to manic proportions. Why wasn’t she answering? The fear that something might have happened to her was all-consuming, making him realise he didn’t give a toss about what had gone on in the past – he just needed to know she was going to be with him in the future.
He punched out her number and waited. Again, no answer; it rang six times then went to voicemail.
‘Hi, it’s Luke. Mark and I are wondering what the problem is and if we can help at all? Give me a call.’
He returned the phone to his jacket pocket and, for want of anything better to do, headed back to his car. He’d wait until Simon got back. It was all he could do.
He’d only been sitting there for five minutes when his phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket, but it was only Mark.
‘What’s happening?’ his friend asked.
‘Not a lot. Kirsty’s car’s here but it doesn’t look like either she or Simon are. I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘Well, I don’t want to worry you more, but I think you should call the police now.’
‘What!? Why?’
‘There’s some serious shit on this guy’s computer, man. And I mean serious. Kirsty’s not the only one he’s videoed. There’s footage of eight other women and it’s not pretty. Looks to me like he drugs
them or something, then likes to film himself doing all sorts of things to them. It’s highly incriminating stuff – and he’s going to be pissed when he finds out you’ve got hold of it.’
‘Shit.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Simon Jordan’s car pull into his driveway. He sat bolt upright in his seat.
‘Simon’s just got back,’ he said into the phone. ‘And Kirsty’s not with him. I need to speak to him.’
‘I don’t think you should do that, man. Call the police and wait for them to come.’
Luke watched as Simon climbed hurriedly out of his car.
‘It’ll take too long.’
Luke was already opening his own door. ‘I need to find out what’s happened to Kirsty. I’ve got to go.’ He hesitated, but in view of what Mark had told him, he knew he had no other option. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about the fact that he, a solicitor, had aided and abetted a crime. ‘Give me fifteen minutes. If I haven’t called you back by then, call the police – get them over here as soon as you can. I’ll call you later.’
He hung up and was out of his own car in an instant, but by the time he’d crossed the road, Simon had already entered the house and had shut the door behind him. He rang the doorbell.
‘Who is it?’ Simon’s voice sounded jumpy on the other side of the door.
‘It’s Luke Talbot. I’m looking for Kirsty. Is she with you?’
There was a moment’s pause. ‘No. Why would she be?’
‘Open the door, can you?’
‘Luke, just go home. I’m telling you she’s not here.’
‘Let me see for myself. Then I’ll go.’
There was noise going on in the hallway, more people maybe? Then the door was flung open – and he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.
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