‘Excuse me,’ Oscar said, his voice croaky. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
The man didn’t look up as he said, ‘Try not to make a mess.’
Oscar’s nausea subsided a little as a blast of cold air was propelled at his face, presumably courtesy of the driver although from where he sat, he couldn’t see her adjusting the air con. The car turned onto a wider, straighter road and after a couple of minutes of deep breathing, he felt better. Nausea gave way to anger.
‘We’re members of OAK. We’re entitled to better treatment than this,’ he said, leaning forward in his seat and then regretting it as the pain in his right temple redoubled.
‘You’re not entitled to shit unless Finn says so,’ snarled the driver.
Oscar looked over at Lauren who shrugged and turned towards the window.
At last, they pulled into the familiar Acorn Consulting gates. Lauren sat up a little straighter in her seat. Once in the underground car park, the cupuli opened the back-passenger doors and the woman helped Oscar out. The man leant across Lauren to undo her seat belt.
‘I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t try anything stupid.’
And that was when she clasped the back of his head in her bound hands and rammed it downwards, jerking her knee up into his face.
‘I think it would have been better,’ Oscar ventured, ‘if you hadn’t broken his nose.’
Lauren’s head turned in his direction and her eyes narrowed. Her lips, restricted by the duct tape, barely moved as a sound that sounded like ‘mo fit’ came out of her mouth. Something about her intonation and disdainful look suggested an approximate translation might be ‘no shit’.
The cupuli had been very angry at the broken nose incident. Very angry. Lauren had received a punch in the head and been dragged out of the back seat by her wrists, landing awkwardly on the concrete floor. Oscar had gone quiet and tried to become invisible. With the male cupule holding one protective hand in front of his bleeding nose, Oscar and Lauren had been marched through some unfamiliar corridors in OAK to this wing which Oscar had never seen before and which he assumed was cupuli headquarters.
They were sitting in metal chairs set side by side in what appeared to be a cell. Oscar hadn’t been aware that OAK was set up to receive criminals, but if this small, windowless room, with its iron bunks and chairs wasn’t a cell, he couldn’t imagine what it was intended for. He was cuffed but otherwise able to move around, while Lauren was strapped into her chair.
When the door had first clanged shut on them Oscar had had the distinct impression that through the animated movements of her eyebrows and head, Lauren was encouraging him to use this relative freedom to some effect.
‘Mmm-mmm-mmm,’ she urged. ‘MMMM-MMMM-MM-MMMM!’
‘I’m sorry, Lauren, but I have no idea what you’re saying.’
She threw her head back in exasperation. ‘MMMMMMMMMM!’
Oscar held up his cuffed hands. ‘Look, unless you’re suggesting I call in the guards and distract them with my own interpretation of Riverdance while you make a break for it, I’m not sure what you think I can do?’
Lauren locked her eyes onto his, opened them to their fullest extent and then rolled them down until she was staring down her nose.
‘Oh, I see! Sorry.’ Oscar had just reached out a hand to remove the tape from her mouth when he heard the tramping of boots in the corridor and the door swung open. Two new cupuli entered, released Lauren from the chair and shoved both her and Oscar out of the room ahead of them.
They filed along narrow corridors past closed doors, and the occasional open one revealing groups of cupuli gathered round maps or receiving briefings. One of their guards opened a set of double doors and pushed Oscar and Lauren inside.
Sitting on the other side of a large, square table was Catherine. Her skin was pale and unhealthy looking, grey-blue shadows under her eyes. She didn’t look like she’d changed her clothes for some time. Standing behind her chair, also pale but alert, was the imposing figure of Arran Finn.
Catherine motioned to Oscar and Lauren to sit down. A cupule brought them bottles of water and ripped the tape from Lauren’s face, making her flinch. Oscar opened his water and gulped some down. Glancing at Lauren he saw she was staring blankly at Catherine, her water untouched on the table.
‘Hello, you two,’ said Catherine. ‘I’m glad we caught up with you. I need you to tell me how we can find Bella. You were overheard asking Oscar about the USB at the house, Lauren, so please don’t feign ignorance. If Bella’s got it, we can sort this whole sorry mess out and bring Isadora home.’ She smiled at them, and her eyes shone with what looked like genuine warmth but Oscar was distracted by her hands. They were clasped together on the table and she was using one thumbnail to pick at the skin of the other thumb. The other thumb was bleeding.
Oscar’s mind was racing. Did chief people officer include being chief prison officer? Finn should be running the show, shouldn’t he, not Catherine?
‘Catherine, I’m confused…’ he started.
The smile dropped from her face. ‘This is all going to be a lot easier if everyone stops fucking around.’
Oscar was stunned. Never had he heard a swear word come out of Catherine’s mouth. He glanced over at Lauren. Her eyes were glazed as if she were steeling herself for an ordeal.
‘We don’t have time for you to be confused, Oscar,’ Catherine continued. ‘Or for you to clam up, Lauren. Isadora is missing. OAK is collapsing. I’ll do anything – anything – to find our leader and bring her home. So please do me the courtesy of taking me seriously.’
Without turning her head, Catherine held out her hand, palm upward. Finn placed a gun into it.
‘You,’ she said, indicating Lauren, ‘were in possession of this gun. Along with Oscar and Bella, you broke the lockdown and escaped to Bella’s house to look for the USB. You’re up to your neck in Isadora’s disappearance.’
Her tone softened when she turned to Oscar.
‘Oscar, I can easily imagine that you were tricked into going along with this.’
Oscar wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or offended.
‘You won’t face any recriminations if you tell us everything you know,’ she added. ‘I’m sure you’re as desperate as I am to bring Isadora home.’
Lauren’s eyes bore into him.
Oscar looked from Catherine’s face to his surroundings, taking in the grilles on the windows, the bare concrete walls, cameras, cupuli standing guard near the exit.
‘I want to help, Catherine, but can I ask one question first? Why is our chief people officer leading a modern-day version of the Spanish Inquisition?’
Finn’s meaty palms slammed down on the table.
‘She’ll ask the fuckin’ questions! You better start answering them.’
Oscar’s heart leapt up to his throat and tried to batter its way out of his body. He didn’t blame it; he’d like to be somewhere else himself. He tried to ignore the lurch in his bowels as he returned Finn’s furious gaze.
‘What exactly was it you wanted to know, Catherine?’ Oscar asked, looking back at her.
‘Where is Bella?’
‘Oh!’ He looked relieved. ‘Easy. No idea.’
Finn growled and stepped forward. Catherine motioned for him to stay where he was.
‘I’m not going to lose my temper with you, Oscar,’ Catherine said in a measured tone. ‘Why don’t you tell us what happened after you left OAK.’ She put the gun down on the table, one hand resting on top of it.
‘We climbed over the wall onto the main road and walked to Bella’s house.’
‘Why did you go to Bella’s house?’
Oscar had had plenty of time to think about this as he waited in the cell. ‘She’ll be very embarrassed that I’m telling you this. She didn’t bring any spare contact lenses with her and she’s too vain to wear her glasses. We thought we could nip out and back before anyone missed us. But then we lost each other in the dark as we ran through the g
rounds. I couldn’t find her anywhere but I thought if I carried on to her house, I’d catch up with her.’
Catherine looked at him with a slight shake of the head. ‘You must take me for an absolute idiot, Oscar,’ she spat.
‘No, it’s true,’ Oscar continued, ‘that’s what happened. She’d told me where the front door key was so I let myself in.’
‘And the USB?’
‘The first I heard of any USB was when Lauren asked me about it after she’d broken in through the back door.’ He knew he was throwing Lauren under the bus but his loyalty was to Bella, and Lauren could well be the one who was putting them all in danger.
Catherine was watching him, the expression of contempt replaced by something he couldn’t quite define. For a moment all was quiet in the room.
Finn glanced from Oscar’s face to Catherine’s, waiting for a signal.
Catherine grabbed the gun, shoved her chair back – so hard Finn had to leap out of the way – and strode around the table to stand beside Oscar. Pointing the gun at his thigh, she said, ‘Someone’s going to tell me what they know before I count to three, or I’m going to shoot.’
Oscar tried to jump up but two cupuli were already on him, holding him down. Lauren looked white but her lips were pressed together.
Catherine sighed. ‘One.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Catherine!’ Oscar’s voice was panicked. ‘Have you lost your fucking mind?’
‘Two.’
‘I don’t know where Bella is! Or Isadora! Lauren? If you know, tell her for God’s sake!’
‘Three.’
Chapter Twenty
Bella had watched Lauren and Oscar being pushed into the back of a black four-by-four and driven away. She stood frozen in place by the window long after the car had disappeared. The courtyard was quiet, the only noises audible from within the house were the rush of the mill stream and a blackbird leading the dawn chorus from somewhere within the clump of trees beside the entrance gate. The fronds of the willow were tousled by a gentle breeze but the rain had stopped. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.
Something touched the back of her leg and she jumped. Siberia, Angela’s cat, had padded in across the carpet, perhaps hoping he was going to get an early breakfast.
Bella bent down and stroked him as she tried to rally her brain into some rational thought. Pulling her phone and charger out of her coat pocket, she plugged them into a wall socket by the sofa. The phone was dead, she would need to charge it for half an hour at least if the battery was to last. In a way that made her feel calmer, she had half an hour to clear her head and come up with a plan.
Sitting on the sofa and pulling a willing Siberia on to her lap, she gave him some firm strokes as she thought hard.
The USB in her pocket appeared to suggest that she was the person with the key to this mystery. Many people were relying on her making the right decision, including Oscar, who seemed to be unconscious when the cupuli bundled him into the back seat. Poor Oscar, if it hadn’t been for Bella, he’d be tucked up in his sleeping bag at OAK right now, or maybe waking up with one of his trademark one-liners on his lips. Whereas instead he was hurt, who knew how badly.
Siberia gave a complaining miaow and Bella realised she was stroking a little too hard.
Thoughts whirled in her head. Ben’s threatening email on the USB. Lauren – who they’d left dead to the world in the office – turning up next door with a couple of cupuli. Maggie Thatcher, who had been alive and well after the news recording when she came round to give Bella the knickers, but who had apparently never returned to her ransacked house or contacted the police.
The police. If ever there was something that annoyed Bella in action films it was when the hero or heroine tried to save a hostage, defuse a bomb or undertake any other unnecessary heroics on their own when they could have gone to the police. Who, after all, were the ones qualified to deal with this kind of thing. That’s what she should do – take the USB, tell the police everything she knew and let them take it from there. Her allotted half-hour was up, she would unplug her phone, get her car and drive to the police station.
The phone rang.
She answered it on instinct, terrified the noise would wake Angela in the room above. The name on the screen was Catherine Knight.
‘Catherine?’ Bella said, keeping her voice down.
‘Bella! Thank God. Where are you?’
‘What’s going on? How did you know to phone my old number?’
‘I’ve been talking to Oscar. He didn’t want to tell me but thank God he did. Bella, I’m on your side. You have to believe me.’
‘Let me speak to him.’
‘He’s not here right now, he had to go to the medical centre. He’ll be fine, don’t worry.’
‘I’m not telling you anything until I speak to him.’
‘Listen to me, Bella, this is too important. Oscar told me about the farm buildings that you tracked Ben to. You have to tell me where they are. I think that’s where Ben’s holding Isadora and Teddy. And maybe Maggie too. I know you’ve got the USB. If we can take that to Ben, we can negotiate with him to get Isadora and the others back in exchange for the evidence against him.’
Catherine paused and Bella could hear her eager breathing on the other end of the line.
‘Bella?’ Catherine urged. ‘Tell me where it is. I just want to save Isadora. There’s no time to explain all the background, I don’t know what he’ll have done by now. Please!’
Bella’s resolve weakened. At the risk of reliving every stupid mistake she’d scoffed at in those action films she was tempted to do as Catherine said. If she went to the police it would mean long explanations and she didn’t know if they would be able to get Ben to hand over Isadora without bloodshed, whereas it sounded like Catherine knew exactly what to say. Because – it dawned now on Bella as these thoughts tumbled through her brain – she had to accept that it was Ben who was behind everything. The secret meetings with James and Lauren, covering up Teddy’s attack on Le Chêne, driving to an isolated barn for no good reason and then that final incriminating email on the USB. She couldn’t ignore the avalanche of signals any longer.
‘I don’t know the address of the barn,’ she said, ‘but I can get it. I’ll bring it to you at OAK, with the USB.’
‘Tell me where you are, we’ll pick you up on the way.’
‘No, I’ll come in.’ The memory of the way those cupuli had dragged Oscar across the gravel was still fresh. Bella preferred to avoid any more contact with Isadora’s personal guard.
Safely in the car and on the road to OAK, Bella felt a little better. Sometimes the period before making a difficult decision was worse than actually making it, she reflected. Once you’d made a choice a lot of the anxiety slipped away. And she was on her way to Oscar, to be able to reassure herself that he was okay.
Before she’d set off, she’d checked in the Alfa’s satnav memory that the route from OAK to the barn was recorded. Catherine and the cupuli would be able to use that to find Ben.
The radio was on, the newsreader announcing that there were no further updates in the Acorn Consulting missing persons enquiries. Her phone rang again. Glancing over at it on the seat beside her she saw the name flash up: Ben.
She turned her attention back to the road ahead and hit ‘accept’ on the Bluetooth.
‘Hello?’
‘Bella! I tried this phone as last resort, I’m glad I did. Where are you?’
‘Oh, come on, Ben. Like I’m going to tell you that! I was an idiot to trust you before, I know what’s going on now.’
‘Really? Who have you been talking to?’
‘Catherine.’
‘Catherine! Ha. Isadora’s anointed successor. You’re hardly going to get an honest account from her.’
‘Isadora’s… what?’
‘Haven’t you ever wondered what will happen when Isadora dies or can’t run OAK anymore?’
Bella had a flashback to Le Chêne, th
e heat of a tropical evening and Oscar’s non-committal answer when she’d asked who would take over from Isadora.
‘Isadora has no children,’ Ben was continuing. ‘A few years ago, she set about identifying and grooming a worthy successor. She decided on Catherine almost as soon as she was recruited. I think she saw something of herself in her, the fanatical devotion to OAK above all else. The pathological drive to succeed—’
‘This is all very interesting, Ben,’ Bella said as she indicated right and waited for a gap in the traffic, ‘but what’s your point?’
‘My point is that Isadora and Catherine are on the same side. The wrong side. I’m going to tell you something now and I need you to listen to me, Bella. It’s critical that you understand what I’m saying so you’ll be able to make an informed decision on what to do.
‘It started at the back end of last year. There were some financial problems at OAK. Isadora wanted to expand more aggressively than the board could agree to – we were concerned we’d overreach ourselves. But she has the final veto on any decision and she pushed ahead. Offices were being built in several new US locations at once, new equipment was being bought, staff recruited – it was a huge undertaking. Isadora signed off a risky investment to fund some of the work. The investment failed. At the time, I didn’t know about the loss of funds and neither did most of the board. But I’m jumping ahead of myself.
‘Isadora carried on as if everything was fine. Told us all that cashflow had never been better and that OAK would exceed its annual growth targets within six months. But the reality was she needed money fast to fill the shortfall from that catastrophic investment. She turned to our friend Teddy Thatcher. What do you know about Teddy’s job at OAK?’
‘Almost nothing,’ Bella replied. ‘I know he’d worked there a long time, that’s all.’
‘He had, and he was a devout OAK believer. A devout Isadora believer, too, he worshipped her. But she used him.
‘Teddy was OAK’s best programmer. He built a lot of the technical systems from scratch; he was a genius when it came to anything to do with coding. She called him into her office one day soon after she’d lost the money and told him she had a special job for him.
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