Midnight Girls

by Lulu Taylor

  It was Sophie Harcourt.

  Chapter 59

  IMOGEN STOOD IN the kitchen, watching Alex as he lay on his back on the rug, kicking hard, and listening to the ringing tone. After a minute or so Tyra picked up.

  ‘Allegra McCorquodale’s office.’

  ‘Tyra, it’s Imogen. Wasn’t Allegra due back from Astor House this afternoon? She said she was coming straight home but she hasn’t turned up and her mobile’s off.’

  ‘Yes,’ Tyra said, ‘but she’s going directly to David’s house. He wants to see her about something. I should think she’s nearly finished, that was a while ago now.’

  ‘OK. Well, if she calls, tell her to let me know when she’s going to be back, will you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  When Imogen hung up, she looked at the clock again. It was getting on for five o’clock and Allegra liked to be back for Alex’s bedtime as often as she could. It was strange not to hear from her … She went over to the rug and picked him up, dropping a kiss on his satin-smooth cheek. He gurgled at her.

  ‘That’s my favourite noise in the whole world,’ she said, smiling at him, and he grinned gummily back, kicking even harder.

  The doorbell buzzed. She put Alex down on the rug and went over to the intercom. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Delivery for Allegra McCorquodale.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll come and get it.’ She went up the stairs to the hallway and along to the front door open it. Then, in a flurry of bewildering movement, she was being pushed backwards. A huge man was grabbing her arms, forcing them behind her back and wrestling her against the staircase. He was hissing in her ear, ‘Where the fuck is she? What have you done with her?’

  Imogen couldn’t speak, almost blinded by shock. Panic rushed through her. All she could think was, My baby! My baby’s downstairs. Don’t hurt me!

  ‘Come on, tell me! What have you bitches done to her?’

  She realised that the man holding her down had a strong American accent. His face, red with rage, was inches from hers, and she could feel his spittle as he ground out his words. She managed to pull herself together enough to stammer out, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’

  ‘Don’t fuck with me!’ yelled the man. He grabbed her shirt and shook her like a rag doll. ‘I wanna know where she is and you’re going to tell me, or you’ll be so fucking sorry you won’t know if you’ll ever make it better.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ she shrieked again. ‘Are you robbing me? Do you want money? My purse is over there!’

  ‘I don’t want money.’ He pulled back, looking at her contemptuously. For the first time she got a look at his face and gasped, unable to believe it. ‘Listen,’ he went on, ‘you oughta know that I have extremely good connections. If you don’t give her back to me, you are going to regret it.’

  ‘Mitch … is that you?’

  He stared at her, his eyes hard. ‘Yeah, it’s me.’

  ‘But Mitch … it’s me, Imogen! Romily’s friend. I was at your wedding.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ He curled his lip scornfully. ‘I know who you are. I know pretty much everything except why you are dumb enough to take me on.’ He took his hands off her and ran one through his hair, looking exhausted. ‘Fuck! This is crazy.’

  Imogen tried to keep her shock and fear under control. Surely Mitch won’t hurt me. She had to understand what was going on so said, calmly and clearly, ‘Mitch, you’ve got to believe me, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who do you think I’ve got?’

  ‘Romily, of course,’ he growled. ‘I guess you two have found a way to get back at me.’

  Imogen’s mouth fell open and she shook her head slowly. When she found her voice, she said, ‘Romily? Why would we do anything to Romily?’

  ‘To hurt me, of course! Allegra must know by now that her uncle has sold the business to us and she’s hit back, very quickly and very cleverly. I don’t know how she did it, I’ll give her that. It must be that freaky boyfriend of hers.’

  ‘David’s sold the business?’ Imogen couldn’t take it all in.

  Mitch nodded. ‘If everything went according to plan, it went under the hammer this afternoon. I’ve been up all night and most of the morning, locked in talks with the lawyers, thrashing out the final contract. Our drafts were signed yesterday. I expected David McCorquodale to sign his this afternoon. I’m just waiting for the call.’

  Imogen put her hands to her mouth in horror. ‘Oh, no … no … poor Allegra!’

  ‘She doesn’t know?’

  Imogen shook her head, numb with shock. ‘I don’t think so. She went to see David this afternoon but she hasn’t called and I’m sure she’d tell me first, as soon as she knew. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Why would David do it? She’s done everything for him!’

  ‘Fuck that. I need to know where Romily is.’

  ‘But why would we know?’ Imogen closed her eyes, trying to understand everything. ‘I know she’s in London, I saw her in a car just a few days ago. I’ve been wondering about trying to contact her, but we parted in such an awful way …’

  Mitch seemed to fill up with anger again. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me!’ he roared. ‘It has to be you two … it must be! You’ve got the motive and you’ve got the money. I don’t know how you’ve done it but I want her back, now! Understand?’

  ‘But … but …’ Imogen shook her head in confusion. ‘You two are divorced. You broke up. That was the whole reason Romily decided she hated Allegra.’

  ‘Yeah. Sure it was,’ Mitch said softly. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He appeared to be thinking hard for a moment then opened his eyes again and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘We didn’t break up. We may be divorced but we’re still together. We only split for a couple of weeks but officially we’ve stayed apart ever since because it was the best way to get what we wanted.’

  Imogen stared back. ‘What you wanted? Colette’s? The clubs?’

  Mitch nodded. ‘I was always going to build my restaurant empire, and it was kind of convenient that we could, in the process, take Allegra’s away.’

  ‘So your reason for buying Colette’s is to punish Allegra for what she did?’

  ‘If you want to put it that way.’ He shrugged. ‘It was kinda useful that she turned out to be so good at building up nice little businesses as well. But I can’t pretend it isn’t sweet to take everything away from her. That’s what we wanted most.’

  ‘And you’re using Romily’s money to do it?’

  ‘My money, Romily’s money – it’s more or less one and the same thing. I bankrolled my first purchase thanks to the money her daddy paid me to get lost. After that, Romily was my partner and, I have to admit, her ready cash made it easier to go shopping for more but my business interests have been extremely lucrative.’

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ Imogen said softly. ‘All this … this huge vendetta … over a simple misunderstanding?’

  ‘Allegra turned on Romily,’ Mitch said gruffly. ‘Sold her out and tried to ruin her life. Where’s the misunderstanding?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Imogen said helplessly. ‘But I know it’s there somewhere.’

  ‘Look, I haven’t got time to waste. So you don’t know where Romily is – let’s say I believe you – but that still doesn’t rule out Allegra. Where is she?’

  ‘The last I heard she was going to David’s … but there’s been no word from her.’ Imogen glanced anxiously towards the kitchen. ‘I must go back to Alex.’

  Mitch’s phone beeped and he answered it as he followed her downstairs. Alex was still happily kicking on the rug, murmuring to himself, and Imogen rushed over to him as Mitch talked curtly, listening for most of the time.

  He finished his call and looked at her. ‘OK. Allegra was there when David signed the papers. She was cut up and left soon afterwards. About an hour ago. You oughta hear from her soon, I’d say.’ His phone beeped again and he consulted it, reading an email. ‘My people are
on the case, searching for Romily. Goddamnit!’ He clenched his fists with frustration. ‘She was on her way to me. If I’d been at home … if I hadn’t been called out to the lawyers for the whole goddamned night … she’s been gone for hours and I’ve only just found out. And if it’s not you and Allegra playing stupid games, then it’s something much, much worse.’ He stared at her and she could see fear in his eyes.

  Imogen stood up, Alex in her arms, and took a deep breath. ‘I want to help you find her, Mitch, you must believe me. But Allegra and I don’t have her, I can promise you that. For one thing, Allegra has barely mentioned Romily’s name to me in years. She doesn’t have any idea you are the man who was once married to Rom, I’m absolutely certain of it. I had no inkling myself that you’re Ted Mitchell. I’m going to find Allegra to make sure. Besides, I have to know how she is now the clubs are gone.’

  ‘Imogen!’ He grasped her hand, his voice agonised, his face fearful. ‘Do you think we’re going to find Rom? What if she’s … if they’ve done something to her!’

  ‘Wait. I know what we can do.’ She went to her handbag and found her battered old address book. She leafed through it with one hand, looking for a number. ‘Here it is.’ She picked up the phone and dialled as Mitch hovered anxiously nearby.

  The phone was scooped up on the first ring with an anxious, ‘Oui?’

  ‘Madame de Lisle? It’s Imogen Heath here. Romily’s friend from school.’

  There was a pause and then Athina de Lisle said in a strangled voice, ‘Romily isn’t here at the moment, my dear. I’m so sorry. Goodbye.’

  ‘Wait, wait!’ cried Imogen. ‘Don’t hang up. It’s important! I think something’s happened to her.’

  There was a pause and then the other woman whispered, ‘What do you know about that? They said no one else knows!’

  ‘So it’s true … she’s been kidnapped?’

  ‘How do you know this?’ Athina de Lisle’s voice rose to a shriek. ‘How do you know? They will kill her, they will kill her …’

  The phone was snatched away abruptly and another voice said, ‘Who is this? What do you know about Romily?’

  ‘Monsieur de Lisle? This is Imogen Heath, Romily’s schoolfriend. I believe she’s missing. I was expecting to see her this morning but she hasn’t arrived, no one at her house knows where she is and her phone’s not being answered. Is everything all right?’

  ‘We cannot speak about this. We must remain absolutely silent. Any hint that the police are involved and …’ He broke off with a gulp.

  ‘You have my word, monsieur, I won’t go to the police. But it’s possible that I can help you. After all, I’m on the spot here in London and I have connections.’ She glanced over at Mitch who stood watching her, his jaw set with worry. He nodded emphatically. ‘Just tell me everything you know.’

  Monsieur de Lisle appeared to think for a moment and then said, ‘I don’t know whether I can trust you. I don’t know on whose behalf you are calling or working. You say you’re Romily’s friend but I have only your word for that.’

  ‘I understand. Please, just tell me one thing then. I believe she has been kidnapped. Is that true? If I’m somehow in league with her enemies, it won’t hurt to tell me what I already know. But I’m not, I swear to you. I’m one of her oldest friends and I’m desperate with worry.’

  There was another pause before Monsieur de Lisle said in a low voice, ‘Yes. She has been taken. And the ransom is twenty million dollars.’

  Chapter 60

  ROMILY WAS ON her own for at least two hours after she woke before anyone came in, though it was hard to tell exactly without being able to look at her watch.

  She was wondering if she would simply be left there to die when one of the double doors behind her opened and someone came towards her, approaching carefully so that they couldn’t be seen. The sound of footsteps coming across the concrete floor towards her was so chilling that she began to tremble. A moment later, something dark descended on her eyes and then she was being pulled up and round to a sitting position. The dark thing round her eyes was tightened at the back of her head into a blindfold, then she was ungagged. A glass of water was held to her lips and she gulped at it gratefully, desperate for liquid in her dry mouth.

  ‘Come on,’ a voice said in accented English, and she was pulled to her feet and made to walk. It was horribly disorienting, walking blind, being pushed from behind with no sense of where she was or where she was going.

  A moment later, she was thrust into a tiny space as the blindfold was removed. She blinked, confused, and then realised she was in a lavatory. She’d been given a loo break.

  ‘Two minutes!’ snarled the voice.

  She was sure it was less than that when the door was pulled open and she was jerked out by the arm, the blindfold wrapped around her head again before she had the chance to see anything bar a blur of grey-white walls and dirty floors.

  ‘Back!’

  She was marched again across the concrete floor and pushed back down on to the sofa. She felt the person near her preparing to leave. ‘Can I have something to eat?’ she asked, panicked that she was going to be left alone for hours.

  There was no reply and a moment later the footsteps left the room.

  She curled up on herself again. What are they going to do to me?

  She longed to sleep but was too alert, despite her fatigue. Any sound sent her senses spinning and her brain working furiously to decode it. The possibilities for her immediate future whirled around in her head: They’ll kill me. The police are coming. They’ll dump me on the side of the road somewhere. Where’s the money? Will my parents pay the ransom?

  She couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t. They’d do all in their power to save her life, she was utterly convinced of it. But would they know what to do? Her ignorance of her own situation was frustrating and exhausting.

  The door of the room she was in opened again and she heard footsteps approaching. They were very quiet but she could tell they were those of someone she had not yet been in contact with. They seemed heavy and graceless. They also seemed oddly familiar.

  The person approached her slowly and stopped when they were standing beside the sofa. She could feel warmth coming off a body, hear breathing and smell the tang of an aftershave she knew.

  ‘Signora?’ whispered a voice. ‘Are you OK?’

  She drew in her breath sharply. ‘Carlo? Carlo, is that you? What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m here to help you,’ he said in a low voice.

  Her heart started racing. ‘How did you find me? How did you know I was here? It’s Rocco … he’s taken me. Wants money for me, I heard him say so. Quick, we must get away as soon as possible!’ Hot relief ran through her. ‘Carlo, I’m so happy you’re here …’

  ‘You, signora, are a fucking idiot,’ he said in a rasping voice, and then laughed nastily.

  Her head whirled as she realised he’d been taunting her. He was one of them.

  ‘Here.’ He pushed a dry sandwich into her hand. ‘You think I’d be here if I wasn’t involved? That I’d just walk in and rescue you?’

  Her stomach spun with sick fear. ‘Carlo,’ she whispered. ‘How can you do this? I was always good to you, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Here, eat your food,’ he said scornfully. ‘I hate wasting it on a piece of shit like you, but I need you alive.’

  ‘Why do you hate me?’ she asked through dry lips.

  ‘I hate everything about you, and your family, and its stinking privilege. I’m engaged in a little bit of wealth redistribution, that’s all. And if you think I like you, you are very wrong, understand? Now shut the fuck up, or it will be my pleasure to beat some respect into you.’

  His footsteps marched away over the echoing concrete, leaving Romily cowering on the sofa, the sandwich forgotten in her shaking hand.

  Chapter 61

  ALLEGRA’S PHONE CHIRRUPED with news of an incoming text. She jumped violently and pulled it out of her bag with clums
y hands. She clicked on it. It was from Adam.

  I’m coming. Stay where you are.

  ‘Oh shit,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, holy fuck. I told him where I am! He must be worried that I’ll find this.’ She put one trembling hand to her forehead. What am I going to do? What does all this mean?

  She’d been staring for what felt like hours at the bizarre shrine. The cut-out newspaper reports of Sophie Harcourt’s death were illustrated with views of Westfield School, snatched shots of girls sobbing and hugging in the forecourt, photos of the Headmistress looking solemn and capable. The headlines still screamed out, after all this time:

  GIRL AT £10K PER YEAR PRIVATE SCHOOL IN DEATH PLUNGE SUICIDE AT TOP GIRLS’ PUBLIC SCHOOL MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF PUPIL

  Words and lines had been highlighted in the reports: ‘she was not considered suicidal by pupils and teachers’; ‘instances of bullying had been reported, according to sources at the school’; ‘no one knows who was the last person to see Sophie Harcourt alive’.

  Other newspaper cuttings reported the inquest and funeral. One showed the grieving family standing behind the coffin. The young lad with his hands clenched together before his sober black suit, his head bowed and his brow furrowed with sorrow, was, according to the caption, Adam Harcourt, the girl’s brother.

  ‘Adam, no!’ she whispered as she realised what it meant. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Sophie’s face gazed out at her from the silver frame, smiling, her hair neat and tidy, her school tie perfectly straight, ever and always fifteen years old and full of promise. Allegra could hardly bear to meet the candid stare of the girl in the picture, now just dust. It reminded her of the nightmares that still haunted her.

  The other cuttings were all about Allegra herself. She’d often featured on society pages, photographed at parties or openings or launches. Her appointment to Colette’s had also been extensively covered in the press. There was a collage of her press appearances on one wall of the cupboard. The most recent cutting was from the Daily Telegraph birth announcements. It read: