Deadline (4 page)

But she hadn't finished it. To her eternal regret.
And now, years later, Jimmy Galante was back,
staring at money that she, Andrea, had worked so
hard to earn. And she still feared him, although in
her current situation she feared not having him
around even more.

He drank from the tumbler of whisky she'd
poured for him and looked over with one of his
mocking smiles.

'Half a million quid, eh, Andrea? Who'd have
thought you'd ever have that kind of money.'

'I always did,' she answered firmly.

'You know,' he said, watching her over the rim
of the glass, 'I've been following your progress
over the years. I'm impressed by how far you've
come, living in a nice, big, flash pad like this.' He
gestured vaguely with an arm.

'Money isn't everything, Jimmy.'

'It is when you ain't got none.'

'I'm sure you manage. You don't look like
you're starving.'

'You think there's money out in Spain? There's
fuck all. I get by, that's all.'

He sounded bitter, which was Jimmy all over.
Andrea had no sympathy. No one had ever given
her anything. She'd had to go out and graft for it
and had proved that you could be successful if
you were willing to put in the sweat and the tears.
No one had ever given Jimmy anything, either.
He'd grown up in a Hackney council flat, with
damp on the walls and cockroaches in the grime encrusted
spaces behind the cheap, flimsy kitchen
units. The difference was that he hadn't wanted to
work, and had taken what wasn't his, and by any
means necessary. His fly-by-night lifestyle might
have been exciting to her once, but she was young
then. Now it simply depressed her that she'd ever
fallen for his charms.

Andrea changed the subject. 'If you've been
following my progress all these years, you must
have known I had a daughter.'

He nodded. 'Yeah, I did.'

'And it never occurred to you that Emma might
have been yours?'

He shrugged. 'No, it didn't. I mean, let's face it,
babe, you weren't exactly whiter than white
where men were concerned, were you?'

It was a cheap shot, but she let it go.

'I mean, she doesn't exactly look like me, does
she?' he continued.

'She doesn't exactly look like me either, Jimmy,
but I can tell you with total and utter certainty that
she's mine.' She paused. 'And yours.'

He nodded, conceding the point, then once
again his eyes drifted down towards the holdall of
money. 'I'm looking forward to meeting her,' he
said, but his tone was vague and it was clear his
attention was focused elsewhere.

'You'll love her,' said Andrea quietly, feeling a
sudden and terrible longing for her daughter.
Tears stung at her eyes. She'd held it together so
well today, but now, more than thirty-six hours
since she'd last seen and touched Emma, the grim
reality of her situation once again took her in its
grip.

And there was something else, too. Could she
really trust Jimmy?

The phone rang. The landline. It startled her.

She and Jimmy exchanged glances. She got to her
feet, walked out into the hallway and picked up
the receiver.

'Hello?'

'Mum?'

Relief and shock soared through her. It was
Emma. Her Emma!

'Darling, oh God, is that you?'

'Yeah, it's me.'

'Are you OK, baby? Is everything OK?' Tears
were streaming down her face, but she didn't care.
She was just ecstatic to be hearing her daughter's
voice.

'I'm fine,' answered Emma, her voice small. She
sounded afraid. 'They say I should be home
tomorrow, if you've got the money.'

'I've got the money, baby, don't worry. We're
going to have you home by tomorrow night, I
swear it. God, it's so good to hear you're all right.

They haven't hurt you, have they?'

'No, but it's . . .'

Emma broke off, and there was a minor
commotion at the other end. It sounded like she
was being moved away from the phone, and
Andrea felt a wave of panic, as if she was losing
her all over again. Emma cried out, but the cry
was cut short. It sounded as if it was being
muffled.

'Emma?' she shouted as the panic shot through
her. 'Emma, darling, are you OK?'

For a few seconds there was silence. Then came
the sound of a door being shut and a new voice
came on the line.

'You've spoken to her, and you know she's
alive, so we've kept our side of the bargain.' Once
again the voice was disguised but the tone was
more aggressive. Andrea thought it might be a
different person from the one who'd called the
previous night. 'Now it's your turn to keep yours.
Have you got the money?'

'Most of it,' she answered breathlessly. 'I'll have
the rest by tomorrow.'

'Good. Then you'll be hearing from us
tomorrow night to make the final arrangements.'

'Don't hurt her, please,' begged Andrea, hating
herself for showing her desperation, but unable to
stop. The line, however, was already dead.

Slowly, she put down the phone. Jimmy had
followed her out into the hallway and was staring
at her with a look of concern. He didn't say
anything for a couple of seconds, then he stepped
forward and took her in his arms. She sank into
them, burying her head against his chest.

'It's going to be all right,' he said quietly, the
deep, gruff intonation of his voice suddenly
making her feel safe.

That was the thing with Jimmy. Even now, he
could inspire so many different and conflicting
emotions. She breathed in his scent. He must have
splashed on some more cologne after he'd had a
shower earlier. It smelled strong, but somehow
comforting.

'I spoke to her,' said Andrea, pulling away and
looking at Jimmy. 'She's alive, Jimmy. She's alive.'

'See, I told you it was going to be all right,
babe,' he said, continuing to hold her. 'These guys
are professionals. They're not going to do
anything to hurt her. She's their prime asset.'

Andrea didn't like his choice of words, nor the
fact that he still hadn't referred to Emma by name,
but she was too excited by the fact that she'd
spoken to her to pay too much attention to that.
Finally, she had confirmation that Emma was OK.
She was scared, but it didn't sound like they'd
hurt her, which meant she was going to get her
back. This time tomorrow, she'd be safe and
sound.

Jimmy's hand ran down her back and moved
across her buttocks. At the same time, he pulled
her closer, and she could feel the hardness
growing between his legs. 'It's going to be OK,
babe. I'm here now. I'm back.' His grip on her
tightened as he rubbed his cock against the material
of her gypsy skirt.

She thought of Pat. Her husband. How their
love life, once so vigorous, had slackened in recent
months until, in the past few weeks, it had evaporated
to almost nothing. Pat wasn't coming back.
She was sure of that. One man leaves her life,
another returns.

Jimmy lifted her chin so she was looking up
into his dark eyes, seeing the lust in them.

'You still look beautiful, babe,' he whispered.

But she didn't want Jimmy. Not like that. She'd
already betrayed one husband with him.
Whatever Pat's faults, whatever he might have
done, she wasn't going to betray a second. She
pulled away from his kiss, trying to move backwards,
but his hand grabbed her chin roughly and
turned it back so she was facing him.

'Come on, I know you feel the same way.'

He was smiling now. As cocky as ever, forcing
her towards him. She could smell the booze on his
breath. Anger overtook her – anger that the
bastard could be so cold to both her and Emma's
plight – and she slapped his hand away,
wrenching herself free from his grasp with more
force than she'd intended.

'You fucking bitch,' he snarled, clenching his
fists; but she stood her ground, glaring back at
him.

'I'm not the little girl you used to know, Jimmy.
So don't you dare try it. Think of someone else for
a change. Like Emma . . . your daughter.'

'Still a tease, ain't you, babe?' he said quietly,
and then with a snort of derision he walked past
her back into the living room.

The next day, Thursday, was excruciating. It was
the waiting.

Jimmy apologized for his behaviour in the
morning, which was typical of him. Always changing
tack. She accepted the apology but she didn't
believe it was genuine. Jimmy Galante was not the
sort of person to feel remorse about anything he'd
done. If he was, he'd never sleep at night, and she
knew from experience that he slept like a log.

Their conversation over coffee in the kitchen
was strained, and she was pleased to get out of the
house and leave him behind. He'd wanted to
come with her as she drove to the bank to pick up
the remainder of the money, but she told him it
would be easier if he didn't. 'It'll just arouse suspicions,'
she explained, knowing that this was just
an excuse. She took the holdall containing the
money with her as well.

'Don't you trust me or something?' he asked
her at the door.

And the truth, of course, was that she didn't.
But she didn't say this. Instead she looked him
right in the eye and said, 'This money represents
our daughter's freedom. It's not going out of my
sight today.'

Jimmy nodded and left it at that.

The bank were reluctant to part with the money,
even though it was hers, and she had to go into
the back and endure a lecture from the manager
about the perils of being in possession of large
sums of cash and sign a load of paperwork before
they let her out with what was rightfully hers.

For lunch she grabbed a sandwich and took a
walk on Hampstead Heath, leaving the money
locked in the boot of the car. Usually it was a place
of tranquillity where she could relax and enjoy the
illusion of being somewhere in the country. Today,
however, she paced relentlessly, counting down
the minutes and hours, worrying about someone
stealing the car and therefore the money, and
when she encountered passers-by she felt bitterness
and jealousy at the way they went about their
easy lives while she suffered alone in hers.
Waiting, always waiting.

She was home by mid-afternoon, and carried
the holdall with difficulty up to the front door.
Half a million pounds, she was discovering,
weighed one hell of a lot. Jimmy was out, for
which she was thankful, and she took the opportunity
to sit on a lounger in the back garden, look
out at the trees and listen to the sounds of early
autumn. This was her refuge, her place of peace,
and today it gave her hope. There was still that
numb fear that it could all go wrong, and that
these people, whoever they were, were simply
stringing her along, but Andrea was a pragmatist,
and the more she thought about it the more she
shared Jimmy's view that their primary motive
was money. If she did what she was told, they
would release Emma. And then maybe, just
maybe, things could start to get back to normal.
Just the two of them together again.

Jimmy returned at seven o'clock, telling her not
to worry because he'd been careful leaving and
coming back. She didn't bother asking him where
he'd been, assuming he'd been visiting associates.
Frankly, she didn't care. She just wanted tonight
sorted, and then she wanted rid of him for ever. It
remained to be seen whether she'd made a
mistake by involving him at all, but it was too late
to worry about that now. Tonight she had to focus
on the task ahead.

And so, for the next two hours, the waiting
continued. They didn't speak much. There was
little to say, and it was difficult to plan anything
given that neither of them knew what procedures
the kidnappers intended to set for them. Andrea
kept looking at her watch. Sometimes she counted
the seconds ticking on the clock in the hallway,
and all the time the tension cranked up inside her
little by little.

The clock struck nine.

She looked across at Jimmy. Her mouth was
dry. He looked back, and for the first time she saw
that he too was worried. He was frowning,
his eyebrows almost touching, the lines on his
forehead heavily pronounced and suddenly
making him look his age. The room was thick
with silence.

A minute passed. Andrea counted the seconds
on the clock. Neither of them spoke, but Jimmy
looked at his watch several times and sighed. It
was a cheap thing with a black plastic strap, not
like the Cartier he'd worn when she'd first known
him. Times had obviously been hard for Jimmy.
Maybe even hard enough for him to consider
getting involved in a kidnap . . . No, she didn't
want to go down that route. She had to trust
somebody, and right now there was no one else.

The phone rang. The receiver was next to her on
the coffee table. She picked up immediately.

'Yes?'

'Have you got a pen and paper?' asked the
disguised voice – the one that had first called her,
she thought.

'Yes.'

'Good. Do exactly what I say and you'll have
your daughter back before the end of the night.'

'That's all I want,' she told him.

'Fuck us about, though, and she dies. Painfully.
Do you understand?'

She tensed, thinking of Jimmy. Was it a big
mistake bringing him in? She said that she
understood.

'Here are your instructions. Get in your car –
the Mercedes – and drive up to the junction of the
M1 and the M25, then proceed eastbound on
the M25 to junction twenty-five. Turn left on to the
A10, then turn left again at the next roundabout
on to the B198 signposted to Rosedale.' He waited
while she wrote all this down. His breathing was
audible on Andrea's end of the phone. 'There's a
turning on the left about two hundred metres
down. Follow the road for approximately three
quarters of a mile until you see a sign on the right
for Gabriel's Saw Mill. Drive down there two
hundred metres.' He paused again. 'At that point
the track forks. Take the right-hand fork and
follow it approximately fifty metres. A burnt-out
single-storey building with no front door will
appear on your right. You can't miss it. Stop the
car but leave the engine running. Take the bag
containing the money inside, and drop it against
the front wall so that it can't be seen from outside.
There's a turning circle another twenty metres
down the track. Drive down to that, turn round
and leave.'

'What about Emma?'

'When you get back on to the road, turn right
and keep going about half a mile and you'll come
to a phone box on the left. Go inside and wait for
our call. As soon as we've confirmed that all the
money's there, and you haven't tried anything
stupid, we'll make contact and give you instructions
on where to collect your daughter.'

'I need to speak to her.'

'Not now. Do as you're instructed and you'll be
seeing her soon enough. One other thing: turn off
your mobile and don't bring it with you.'

'OK,' she said reluctantly. She didn't like the
idea of being without it.

'Now get moving. You've got exactly forty-five
minutes to get to the drop-off point. And
remember, we're watching.'

The line went dead and Andrea put the receiver
down.

'What's the plan?' asked Jimmy, looking at her
closely.

Briefly, she went through the instructions she'd
been given. 'I don't think you should come,' she
added when she'd finished. 'They said they were
going to be watching me. If they see you, it could
jeopardize things. I can't afford that.'

'She's my daughter too,' he answered. 'I'm
coming with you.'

'What's the point, Jimmy? I'm delivering the
money, that's all.'

'Because I don't trust them. That's the point.
What if they're bullshitting about letting her go?'

'But you were the one who told me they just
wanted cash. That they didn't want to hurt her.'

'Well, maybe that is all they want, but there's
still no guarantee they'll release her. They might
hold out for more cash. But if you drop me off a
couple of hundred yards from where you're
making the drop, I'll make my own way down
there and keep an eye on the place. I'll see who
goes in, see if I recognize them. I might be able to
get their registration number.'

'What good'll that do?'

'There's still a couple of coppers I know. They'll
be able to trace who the car belongs to.'

Andrea didn't like the sound of this at all.

'But it's risky, isn't it? What happens if they see
you? Then they're not going to let Emma go, are
they? They might kill her.'

Jimmy shook his head. 'They ain't going to kill
her. She's worth more to them alive. And they
ain't going to see me, either. I'll be quiet. And I'll
be careful. I don't want anything to happen to
Emma either, you know.'

Andrea sighed, trying to think. Not following
the kidnappers' instructions to the letter was a
huge risk, but what if Jimmy was right? What if
they weren't going to let Emma go? Surely it was
better to have an insurance policy in the form of
Jimmy watching the place – someone cunning
enough to spot a double-cross, and hard enough,
if necessary, to do something about it. But, did she
even trust him? She wiped sweat from her brow,
wrestling with the alternatives, knowing she had
only seconds to make up her mind. Knowing that
even one wrong move could end the life of her
only child.

She took several deep breaths, telling herself to
keep calm, for Emma's sake.

'What if they're out there now watching the
house?' she asked. 'If they see us leaving
together . . .'

He shook his head. 'They're not watching the
house. If they were, they'd already know I was here.
Anyway, there won't be enough of them to do that.'

'How do you know?' she demanded.

'This ain't a big firm, babe. No way. There'll
only be a couple of them. Any more and there'd be
too much chance of a leak. Also, they'd stand out
sitting in a car in a nice, quiet street like this for
hours on end. They won't want to risk that. But
we'll play it safe. You go out the front, and I'll
come out nice and quiet behind you, and I'll stay
down in the seat. It'll be dark, no one'll see.'

His words were filled with a quiet confidence
that was proving seductive.

'What happens afterwards? Where will I pick
you up from? They told me not to bring my
mobile phone.'

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a
cheap Nokia handset. 'Take this,' he said. 'It's a
spare one of mine.'

'I told you, they don't want me to take one.'

'No, babe, they don't want you to bring
your
mobile phone. There's a difference.'

'What do you mean?'

'They're just covering themselves. If you have
gone to the police then one of the ways they can
track your movements would be using your
mobile. That's why they don't want you to have it.
They probably know your number so they can
phone to check whether it's switched off.' He
handed her the Nokia. 'But they don't know the
number of this one.'

'OK,' she said uncertainly as he gave her the
handset.

'Put it on vibrate, OK? I've got another phone.
You drop me off just before we get to the ransom
drop. Then an hour after we part company, I'll text
you. If it's safe for you, you call my number and
we can arrange to meet.'

She nodded, coming to a decision. 'All right,
let's go.'