‘The housekeeper, stoopid,’ Rory said in an affected moronic voice. ‘Remember?’
‘I hate when you talk in that damn voice. And what are you going on about? The agency just called me to say she won’t be arriving until tomorrow.’
‘I don’t know,’ Rory said in a deadpan tone. ‘Maybe they changed their mind.’
‘How do you know it’s the housekeeper?’
‘Because I spoke to her just now on the security monitor. She said her name was Sue. I just buzzed her in the gate and she’s parking her van up outside. I’m watching her right now, from the window.’ A pause. ‘Where’s she from? Kinda weird accent.’
‘I’ll be there in exactly two minutes, all right?’
‘Hey, there’s a couple of guys with her,’ Rory said.
‘A couple of guys?’
‘Yeah, they’re walking towards the house.’
‘Rory, hold on till I get there. Don’t open the door.’
But the kid had already hung up.
The Saab was coming into the bends a mile and a half from the house as Adam dialled the number for the agency. ‘This is Adam O’Connor. We spoke a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Yes, Mr O’Connor?’ the same woman replied pleasantly.
‘Did I misunderstand you before? I thought you said nobody was coming out until tomorrow.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Then where did this Sue come from?’ he asked, letting his irritation flood out. ‘And who are these two guys with her? You know, this kind of disorganisation doesn’t make you people look very good.’
‘We don’t have anyone called Sue working for us,’ the woman said archly. ‘There must be some confusion. And I must say I don’t like your tone, sir.’
‘Fine. Shove it up your ass. I’ll find someone else.’
Two seconds after the call was over, Adam started to feel the first trembles in his hands. He put his foot down and the needle soared as he rounded the side of the big hill and the solitary lake house came into view. Everything looked peaceful enough. Acres of glass and the surface of the lake glittered the sunlight back at him from between the rolling green hills. A perfect picture.
But he just knew something was terribly wrong.
The gates sensed his car approaching and opened automatically to let him through. He roared into the gateway and up the long drive.
There was no van parked anywhere. The shakes got worse, and his step was wobbly as he got out of the cool Saab and into the hot sun. He strode to the front door and said ‘Constantinople’ to the sensor. The lock clicked open and he ran through into the wide, airy entrance hall.
‘Rory?’ It was a big house, and you sometimes had to yell to communicate from one part to another. But from the instant he stepped inside, something told him the place was empty. ‘Rory?’
No reply. No Rory, no housekeeper. He checked the living room. Empty. Strode across the hall and thundered up the stairs and threw open his son’s bedroom door.
‘Dad, I wish you wouldn’t burst in like that.’ That was what Rory would have said to him, turning towards the door with a scowl. But Rory wasn’t there. His chess computer and TV and Blu-ray player and drawing pad and the model spyplane he was building were all exactly where they should be. But no Rory.
Adam was sweating cold now. Back downstairs, he called and called. Nothing. Checked the garden, the pool. Still nothing.
Then the phone rang. He rushed over to it. ‘Professor O’Connor?’ said a voice. A man’s voice, calm and soft. The accent was English, educated.
‘Yes.’
‘Professor Adam O’Connor?’
‘Who is this?’
‘We have your son.’
Adam almost collapsed at the words. His hands were shaking so violently that he needed both of them to keep the phone clasped tightly to his ear.
‘You will follow my instructions to the letter,’ the voice continued. ‘Any attempt to contact the police, any calls or communication with anyone from this moment on, we will know and Rory will die. Any failure or hesitation to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to do it, he will die. There will be no second warning. Do you understand?’
Adam managed a tiny ‘Yes’.
‘Good. Now listen to me very carefully.’
In the casualty department waiting room in Valognes, Jeff Dekker got two foam cups of coffee from a machine down the corridor and carried them over to the row of plastic chairs where Brooke was sitting staring into space. He handed her a cup, then slumped down next to her.
He tried to sound upbeat. ‘Don’t look so miserable. I’m sure he’s going to be OK. We’ll know soon. They should have finished the X-ray by now.’ He took a loud slurp of coffee. ‘Jesus, this is revolting.’
Brooke sipped hers expressionlessly, as though the finest Blue Mountain roast or liquid shit would have been all the same to her.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Jeff said again cheerfully. His plastic chair creaked as he leaned back in it, stretching his legs out in front of him.
‘I hope so,’ Brooke murmured, taking another sip of the coffee.
‘Though I have to say, he had it coming.’
She said nothing.
‘And Ben hardly touched him, really.’ Brooke snorted. ‘That’s reassuring.’
‘Don’t be too pissed off with Ben. He was provoked.’ She paused, biting her lip. ‘You know I’m not pissed off with him. I just wish this whole thing hadn’t happened.’
‘You can be sure that Ben feels that way too,’ Jeff said. He shook his head in disbelief. ‘What the hell was eating Shannon anyway? Acting like that—’
‘I think this was all my fault,’ she said miserably.
‘Your fault?’
She nodded. ‘Something I said.’
‘I didn’t hear you say a thing.’
‘Not then. Yesterday, in the car, on the way down.’
‘What did you say?’
She sucked air through her teeth. ‘It was about Ben.’
‘So?’
‘I think I just mentioned his name once too often, that’s all.’
‘You’re saying that Shannon’s jealous. He can tell how you feel about Ben.’
She turned to look at him. There was a flush of red in her cheeks. ‘It’s that obvious?’
‘To me, and everyone else,’ Jeff said. ‘Except Ben, that is.’
‘Everyone except Ben,’ she echoed sadly.
‘And when he got you to act out the role of the principal, that was too much for matey boy. He saw it as some kind of competition.’
She nodded. ‘Fighting over the female. Locking antlers like a couple of rutting stags.’