Antman (55 page)

'I see,' she said.

'I wish I did,' Tom said slowly, staring at the letters on the page while they jumbled themselves into different patterns, like insects tumbling down a dry, sandy slope. 'Meaninglessness,' he added.

‘
What?'

'I was thinking what a pointless activity scientific research is, when all you've worked for, year in and year out, can be stopped in mid-flow regardless of the timescale over which you might expect the payoff – at the stroke of an administrator's pen.'

'They haven't given you any warning?'

'That's the trouble, they have. It's been on the cards for years. It's always on the cards. In fact, that's how management keep academics working night and day. They hold over their heads the permanent fear of pulling the plug if they don't come up with sufficient externally funded research. It's just that research units are particularly vulnerable to this form of intimidation, since pretty well all of their revenue funding – salaries of research staff and so on – comes from research grants.'

He sat grinding the empty envelope onto his thigh.

'That's why Hugh was so keen to second me to your Force. He bloody well knew what was coming.'

Chapter 36

Graver abandoned his first attempt to abduct Tom and Laura's two children. It was too crude to try to win them from their mother in some direct way. He approached so far, then pulled back without speaking. He was glad afterwards; in the absence of a plan, only a half-formed set of linked ideas was not enough. Part of the problem was his head was too full of people, swimming about in the canals of his brain. Each fresh junction with reality presented him with further choices. He couldn't cope. There were too many of them.

The breakthrough came when he decided to approach the mother's friend instead; she didn't know him in any of his guises. There was always a risk with the mother that she might recognise him, or smell danger. He'd watched the children for hours on end, using his powerful binoculars. These gave him a sense of power, the external feeling of being in control, control he so lacked inside his head.

He watched them with the friend and decided they were so at home with her, it might even work better than with the nanny. What he needed now was some clarity and a sharp focus on the objective.

The second time, Graver was more lucky. Sarah played with her dolls and pram on the grass verge outside the house and Matthew rode up and down on his tricycle.

Laura rushed like a gale from room to room, hardly able to think, grabbing wildly at whatever they might need for a protracted stay elsewhere.

'Come on, darlings, we must hurry.'

‘
Why are we always hurrying, Mummy?'

'Sometimes mummies have to do one job after another very quickly.'

'But you aren't doing a job, Mummy. You're at home, packing.'

‘
When we are on holiday, where will Daddy be?'

'At work, I expect.'

Laura had it worked out. She was dropping the kids at school, Helen would pick them up this afternoon and bring them to the tea rooms in Cottingham. They could have an ice cream while waiting with Helen for her to arrive.

Laura came back to the present. 'Mummy, Mummy, you aren't answering my question. Will Daddy be coming on holiday with us when he gets home from work?'

'Daddy's busy.'

'He's always busy.'

'You're too busy as well.'

'I'm sorry. Just get ready, please.'

'Are you frightened, Mummy?'

'Of course not.'

'You look frightened. Is there a monster in the car.'

'Don't be silly. Look, you two, we must hurry to get away on time.'

'If we go slower, will we be able to see Daddy on his way home from work?'

Oh my God, this is complicated
, thought Laura. 'No,' she fought to keep the impatience down, 'Daddy will be at work till very late.' I hope, she added mentally.

'I'm going to take Teddy. He'll be cold if I leave him in bed on his own. He can stay in this bag in the cloakroom till home time.'

'That's a very good idea. What about you, Matthew? What will you take? Your train?'

'I'm taking my kite and my new cricket bat,' said Matthew decisively.

'It might rain,' offered Laura tentatively.

'If it rains, I'll stay in bed.'

'Apart from school.'

'Yes, apart from school.' Laura didn't have the time to negotiate at greater length.

'Oh damn!' Laura had forgotten to collect the car. She ran back into the house and asked Helen to take the children in the van. At least they'd be off the premises before Tom arrived home. She would meet Helen and the children with the car when she'd been to the garage to collect it.

*  *  *

Graver realised what was happening. He had fixed it so the petrol feed pipe would fail, but he hadn't any idea how long it would be before the vibration shook the connection loose. He followed the van at a discreet distance in the fake taxi cab. Even though there was no chance that they would recognise a man they had never seen before, he didn't want to arouse any suspicion that they were being followed. If he had but known it, the fact that Laura was taking the children away was going to make it all the easier for him to intervene at this point.

‘
Where are we going first, Helen?'

'I have to get some petrol at the garage.'

'Are we going on the motorway, Helen?'

'Not today.'

'I'm glad. I don't like the motorway.'

'Mummy drives too fast on the motorway.'

'You don't really think so, Matthew?'

'I do. Once a policeman stopped her when she were going at sixty-three miles an hour.'

'It can't have been as fast as that. Mummy is always careful.'

'She said a naughty word when he waved at us. I heard her. But she was very quiet when he wagged his finger and told her off.'

'You have to be polite to policemen.'

I'll bet Laura curses her son's precision memory, thought Helen. Then, out loud, 'Ooops, nearly missed the turning.'

She glanced into the mirror quickly and swung into the right lane at the traffic lights on the ring road out of town. Her driving instructor always said that she under-used her wing mirror. On this occasion she would have had to be far more vigilant to have noticed the car tailing her, almost a quarter of a mile behind.

Graver lit a cigarette as he drove. This was looking good. They were beyond the edge of the built-up area now. He suffered a momentary pang of doubt about the efficiency of his tampering with her engine. But at that very moment the car in front swerved, slowed and pulled rapidly into the side of the road and then bumped up onto the verge. The hazard warning lights came on. Graver allowed his taxi to coast along and slowed as he came alongside. He called through his open window, just as Helen was easing herself out on the road side.

'Problems?'

'God knows. I'm in such a hurry and it has to cut out.'

He pulled in front and parked up on the wide verge. He glanced approvingly in both ways, but took care to shake his head. Not a car in sight in either direction.

'Just your luck eh? That's the way it goes. Are you in the AA?'

'We were. To be honest I can't tell you if the membership has lapsed. We never talk about these things. Anyway, even if it hasn't the card is at home, in my other bag. So we can forget it.'

Graver walked round to the front of her car.

'Let's have a look under the bonnet then? See what the problem is.'

Her hopes rose. 'Do you know about engines then?'

'I look after mine, if that's what you mean. He nodded back at the taxi. But mine's a diesel. Chalk and cheese, if you see what I mean.'

'Oh, right.' Her heart fell again. Possibly not so simple after all.

She fell in with his guidance, got in and released the bonnet catch. He lifted it and stared expertly, fishing around for a few minutes till he judged it right to pick up the offending connection. 'Aha!'

'What is it?'

'Fractured petrol feed, I'm afraid.'

'Oh. Can't it be fixed then?'

'Yes, it's a straightforward enough job.'

'Good, I'm in such a hurry you see.'

'Right. Only problem is, I can't do it here without the repair pack. It would start leaking again, petrol all over the engine, fire risk, that sort of thing.'

'Oh.'

How stupid I seem, thought Helen. Of course he can't fix it. He's a casual passer-by. What do you expect, she said to herself roughly. Jim'll fix it?

Ten minutes later, they were all in the taxi, three passengers in the back and Graver driving in front, speeding along towards his destination. The fog and the growing darkness helped to obscure the change of route until it was far too late and by the time they disembarked at the remote farmhouse, Helen's tiredness was overcoming everything, even her anxieties at what was happening to them.

The exception – Graver felt compelled to make an exception – to his self-imposed rule not to send any messages to victims, their families or friends, was his phone call to Laura. He had to telephone her, to assure her that there was another man in the world at least as clever as her husband, possibly even cleverer. And yes, there was another reason, which he hardly admitted to himself until he actually made the call.

'Hello.'

‘
Who is this?'

'Hello.'

‘
Who is this please?'

'Mrs F.'

'Yes. But I said –'

'Mrs F-O-R-T-I-U-S.' He spelt it out quietly, so his passengers couldn’t hear. He repeated the letters slowly, rolling each sound round his mouth, because it amused him to be using them in a legitimate conversation, not a fantasy. 'You will say nothing about this conversation to anybody. Be quiet and listen.'

Silence at the other end.

'Can you hear me?'

Still silence.

'Mrs F, if you don't answer you will never see your children again.'

'Yes.'

'Yes what?'

'Yes I agree.'

'Mrs F.' There it was again, the frisson of power. It didn't happen every time, but was well worth trying for. 'Let us be clear. I am making a statement and you have to confirm. This is not a question, but a statement. You will ask nothing, you simply agree. Understand?'

'I understand.'

'You will say nothing about this conversation to anyone, not even your husband.'

Her voice almost disappeared, she was in such a nervous state. 'No.'

'No what?'

'I will say nothing.'

'Right, that's lovely. We're making progress. Now –' A sudden thought struck him. 'You are alone, aren't you?'

'Yes.'

'No other person in the house?'

'No.'

'No tape recorders, bugs or other interferences? I can tell that you know I will carry out my threat if you make any attempt whatever to –'

Laura's voice rose steadily, nearly out of control: 'Nothing, no nothing, please believe me.'

'Good, good.'

He was back to the soothing tone again: 'I take it you want to see your children again.'

'Yes.'

'And you will do anything I require in order to achieve this.'

'Yes.'

'You will drive to a place I will indicate. You will have with you in the car a recording of Bruckner. It will be Bruckner's seventh symphony.'