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A
s the day dragged on the temperature in the loft rose ever so slightly, but it remained cold.

The three of us stayed huddled beneath the blankets, growing more miserable and desperate with every passing minute. Laura was in the middle and Maggie and I had our arms around her to keep her
warm. She kept whimpering, a low, pitiful sound that made my scalp crawl.

She hadn’t eaten anything for almost fifteen hours and had managed to drink only a couple of mouthfuls of water. She was scared and confused. It broke my heart to see her like that.

I put my hand under her chin and raised her face to look at me. She was as pale as a Russian swimmer. Her wide brown eyes were devoid of expression. The skin around them was dark, almost bruised. I could see that she had retreated into herself, shrinking away from the terror. I felt the muscles in my throat tighten.

‘I promise I won’t let the bad man hurt you,’ I said.

She blinked. Her top lip curled at the edges.

‘Max and me want to go home,’ she said, her voice shrill. ‘We’re cold and we don’t want to stay here.’

‘I know you don’t, sweetheart. Mummy and I want to go home too. I’ll soon think of a way to get us out of here.’

‘But what will happen when the man comes back? He’s wicked and he frightens me.’

I gritted my teeth. Tried to think of something to say that would reassure her. But whatever I said would not be truthful, just like the promise I had just made to her.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

‘Let me worry about what happens next,’ I said quietly. ‘I think the best thing you can do is go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll have a really nice dream.’

We made room so that Laura could stretch out between us. She rested her head on my lap and covered her face with the blanket. Maggie massaged her legs and patted her back. We stayed like that, without talking, for about ten minutes, by which time Laura was asleep.

Then Maggie broke the silence.

‘I’m certain we’re going to die, Danny, but before we do I want you to know that I love you.’

She was looking at me, her features hard and strained, her long hair in a glorious tangle. My chest heaved and I felt tears gather in my eyes. I reached out, put a hand on her shoulder.

‘I love you too, honey. With all my heart.’

‘I know you do. I’ve always known it.’ Then she paused, tilting her head so that it rested on my hand. ‘I just wish I’d been a better wife to you and a better mother to Laura.’

I grimaced. ‘That’s a ridiculous thing to say. You’ve been a great wife and a wonderful mother. You’ve made me happy and very proud.’

Maggie wiped a tear from her eye with a finger.

‘That’s not true, Danny. For much of the time I’ve acted as though I’ve been ungrateful. I’ve nagged an awful lot and I’ve not supported your business when I should have.’

‘That’s nonsense. You’re scared and mixed up and you’re not thinking straight.’

She shook her head. ‘No, Danny. I know what I’m saying.’

I didn’t get it. Why should she give herself such a hard time? Sure, we’d had our problems over the years but no more or less than any other married couple. If anyone should have felt guilty just now it was me. I was the one who had got us into a financial pickle. I was the one who wasn’t able to protect his family.

I brushed a tendril of hair away from her forehead and stroked her cheek. Her skin was cold and moist.

‘I’ll say this only once, Maggie. And then I want you to stop this silly talk and concentrate on how we can save ourselves.’

I took a breath and felt the emotion stir inside me.

‘I love you more now than I ever did. You’ve been a light in my life since the day we met. If we are going to die in this hellhole then I have one big regret and it’s that I won’t have more precious years with you and Laura.’

She started to say something, but then stopped herself. She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it with all the strength she could muster.

And that was when the dam burst and she broke down. I held her close to my chest and let her cry.

T
he kidnapper dropped the shovel and wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve.

He was exhausted. Digging, he realized, was as hard as an intense workout on a rowing-machine.

But it had been worth it. The shallow grave he had dug was a
necessary
part of the plan he’d devised, a plan that followed on from his decision to kill the Cain family.

It was the right and sensible thing to do. He saw that now, having agonized over it for long enough. He would simply have to live with it on his conscience. He could do that. The money would help, and so too would the fact that they were strangers to him. He was engaging with them as little as possible and keeping his mask on to remain anonymous. It helped him to stay detached from them.

The child was the problem. She was sweet and vulnerable and the thought of ending her life was abhorrent to him. But he reasoned with himself that he had little choice.

The guilt would fade with time and since he did not believe in God he did not fear the wrath of Judgment Day. The world was full of murderers, after all, and most of them had never been punished. They went about their lives along with everyone else. Raising families. Watching football. Going on holidays.

Everyone knew that human life had long ago been devalued. It was acceptable to kill in all kinds of circumstances. You only had to look at the television and read the papers to know that.

He lifted his head and looked out over the fertile Hampshire
countryside
. From here he could see the house, just a five minute walk away. He had chosen this spot because to reach it you had to slug through a patch of thick woodland. Few people came here and those who did so in future
would have no idea that they were standing on the grave of Danny Cain.

The kidnapper lit a cigarette and sucked smoke deep into his lungs through pouting lips.

Then he took out his mobile and made a call.

‘I’ve come to a decision,’ he said when it was answered. ‘They’re going to have to die.’
 

‘H
ave you any idea who he is?’ Maggie asked me.

‘Not a clue,’ I said. ‘I wish I had. Maybe it would help explain what’s going on.’

I’d chosen not to mention my suspicion that it might conceivably be Joe Dessler. She didn’t need to know that and I didn’t want her to think that Vince and I had brought all this on ourselves by trying to expose him as a crook.

We’d been talking to fill the time. Trying to make sense of what was happening. Laura was still sleeping, her breath ragged.

The same questions kept rolling around inside both our heads. Did the masked man know Vince? Was he at the cottage when Vince’s lottery numbers came up? Was he listening in when Vince phoned me? Did he have an accomplice?

I didn’t want to die without knowing the answers and I could tell that Maggie felt the same way. It was bloody frustrating. There was a bitter irony too. If the police did indeed think that I had killed Vince then my name would have become big news by now. It was a huge story and I could imagine what the papers and the broadcast news operations would be saying.

Freelance journalist Danny Cain goes missing after his partner is found slain. There’s mounting concern for his family who have also
disappeared.

Temple and the woman detective had probably come to my home
last night to arrest me. Maybe someone had seen me leaving the cottage. The old neighbour perhaps. What was his name? Nadelson. Vince once described him as a busybody and said he was always poking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Whatever the
circumstances
, I was apparently suspected of being a killer. Great. I wondered what Temple and his team thought about that. Vince’s death had probably caused a stir among them for the wrong reasons. I was willing to bet that some, if not all of them, were secretly pleased.

And yet it was grossly unfair. George bloody Banks had been selling confiscated drugs. We merely exposed him. Sure, I felt bad about his son, but we weren’t responsible. Banks was the instrument of his own destruction. Even Temple said as much that day he came to see me.

‘George has done a stupid thing,’
he’d said.
‘He brought this on himself, but you know why so surely you can sympathize with him. All I ask is that you kill the story and let us deal with it internally. We’ll sort him out.’

But we hadn’t, and despite what had happened it was a decision I stood by.

‘What do you think the bastard is doing?’ Maggie asked, her frail voice snapping me out of my thoughts.

‘I expect he’s covering his tracks,’ I said. ‘He’ll want to be absolutely certain that there’s no link between Vince and the lottery win before he submits the ticket.’

The lottery ticket. I wondered if Vince had been murdered because of the ticket, or had he been killed for another reason and that little pink slip with the numbers on it was purely incidental?

It was another question to add to the mountain that was building up inside my head. And it wasn’t one the police would be asking. I was pretty sure of that. They had no idea what was really going on and I very much doubted that there would be any evidence to point them in the right direction.

‘What was that?’

Maggie’s panic-filled voice jolted me.

‘I heard something,’ she said. ‘Outside.’

We both listened.

‘There,’ she said.

This time I heard it too. A car on the driveway.

‘He’s back,’ she said.

Five minutes after we heard the car outside the hatch opened and light flooded into the attic. As the ladder was unfolded out of sight I began to experience a rising sense of helpless panic.

Maggie grabbed my arm. I felt her body stiffen. Her breath made a harsh sound. Laura stirred between us, sensing that something was about to happen. I could hear my heart beating like a drum roll.

Was this the end? Was the bastard going to kill us and then go on to claim the lottery cash?

Suddenly he rose up through the ceiling. Head first. It was still covered with the ski mask. Then his body. Dark coat. Dark jumper. Black leather gloves to finish off the guise of Mr Nightmare.

He was carrying a bag which he held up for us to see.

‘I thought you might need feeding,’ he said.

I was taken aback. He wasn’t going to kill us. At least, not yet.

He took several steps across the loft, ducking to avoid a low rafter. Then he tossed the bag towards us. It landed just in front of me.

‘How long are you going to keep us here?’ I asked him.

He just stood there for a moment, staring down at us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. He smelled earthy and there was wet mud on his boots.

‘I told you before,’ he said. ‘Until I have the money. It won’t be long now. I just need to be sure it’s safe.’

Laura suddenly realized what was going on and pushed herself against me. I felt her shaking.

‘You’re going to kill us, aren’t you?’ Maggie said, her voice full of anger. ‘Like you killed Vince?’

He took another step forward. He was a large, threatening figure, but there was no way to gauge his reaction beneath the mask.

‘Not if you don’t give me any trouble,’ he said.

I noticed how close he was. I’d actually crawled that far across the chipboard floor before the chain attached to the stanchion prevented me from going any further.

‘Why did you kill Vince?’ Maggie asked.

He shook his head. ‘No more questions. The least said between us the better.’

‘Who are you, for God’s sake,’ she persisted.

He shook his head again. ‘You’re wasting your time, Mrs Cain. So just shut the fuck up.’

I mentally measured the distance between us, weighed up the odds on reaching him. They were not good but there was a chance.

‘You’re a wicked, murdering bastard,’ Maggie yelled at him. ‘How can you do this to us? It’s not right.’

For some reason he didn’t budge. He stood there staring down at her as though shocked by her outburst.

‘Please let us go,’ she wailed. ‘We don’t know who you are. We won’t tell anyone what’s happened.’

‘Sorry,’ he said, his voice so calm it was infuriating. ‘That’s just not going to happen.’

He started to turn.

It was now or never.

I took a deep breath and propelled myself forward. He was caught completely unaware, having misjudged his position relative to mine. He reacted by twisting his body away from me, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop me doing a one-handed rugby tackle.

The chain was attached to my left wrist and this snapped taut as I stretched out as far as I could and wrapped my right arm around his legs. He let out a cry as he lost his balance and fell backwards.

His body crashed down on the floor. I heard Laura scream. I felt the metal cuff cut into my wrist as I clung desperately to his legs, my fingers getting a purchase on his trousers.

I needed to pull him closer so that I could bring my cuffed hand into play. But he started to kick out and I struggled to hold on.

From my sprawled position on the floor I saw Maggie jump to her feet and attempt to help out, but her own chain was shorter and she couldn’t reach the kidnapper. She swore instead. Then I realized that the man had heaved his body up into a sitting position.

Shit.

He grabbed at my hair and yanked it hard. I tried to keep my head
down, cheek flat against the floor, but the pain and pressure was unbearable.

Then he was digging his fingers into my arms, trying to prise them away from his legs. It quickly became evident that my assault had been misjudged. It was over almost as soon as it began. He knew that as well as I did.

He battered me until I was forced to let go of his legs in an attempt to cover my head and face. At once he was on his feet. Kicking me as though I was a dead carcass.

‘You bastard,’ he yelled, his voice distorted by rage. ‘You fucking bastard.’

I tried to roll away from him but he didn’t let up. I took a blow to the forehead. Another to the chin. Then suddenly he stopped. And I became aware of a curdled scream erupting from Laura’s mouth.

It wasn’t a normal scream. This was a hysterical, high-pitched cry like nothing I’d heard before or would want to hear again. I opened my eyes to look at her. Maggie was kneeling beside her, trying to calm her down, but Laura seemed unaware of this. Her eyes were closed, her mouth wide open, and the haunting sound that came out was chilling.

I shifted position and glanced up at the kidnapper. He’d stepped back from me, out of reach, and was staring at Laura.

‘Please calm down, sweetheart,’ Maggie was pleading.

I hauled myself across the floor towards them. Pulled myself up on to my knees and wrapped my arms around my daughter. Her body was as stiff as a mannequin. I felt the panicked rhythm of her heart inside her chest.

I squeezed her to me, pressing her face against my shoulder. Felt her gradually begin to relax. The screaming slowly subsided, to be replaced by huge, wrenching sobs.

Then the kidnapper said, ‘You shouldn’t have tried to jump me. I warned you.’

I eased my hold on Laura and turned to look at him as he backed away towards the hatch.

‘What do you expect me to do?’ I shouted. ‘Just wait for you to kill us?’

He reached the hatch and paused.

‘My daughter is terrified,’ I said. ‘Please don’t let her suffer like this.’

He put one foot down through the hatch on to the top rung of the ladder.

‘Let us go,’ Maggie said. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

He put his other foot through the hatch. Then he paused again and said, ‘It’s not that simple. If you knew why this was happening you’d understand. I’m sorry, but there’s no going back.’

And then he descended the ladder and closed the hatch behind him.