Stealing People (25 page)

‘But presumably you’re thinking the handover is going to give you your best opportunity for targeting the kidnappers.’

‘The fact that they’ve demanded a truck with lifting gear suggests they’ll be transferring the money to a number of smaller vehicles,’ said Forsyth. ‘Obviously we’ll have a tracking device built into the truck just in case they’re crazy.’

‘And in the money?’

‘Sure,’ said Forsyth. ‘They’re pretty sophisticated now. Super thin, undetectable. The latest from the
CIA
.’

‘What’s the current thinking about the hostages’ whereabouts?’ asked Mercy. ‘Because the kidnaps took place over an extended period and different locations, it probably means that, at least for a time, they gathered them together.’

‘We’ve studied the punishment videos and they all took place in the same location.’

‘Has Reef revealed anything more under interrogation?’

‘Only that he accessed the telephone number to call by running a decoding program through a website. We’ve tried to do the same, but no result. We reckon that now they know Reef ’s been arrested, they’ve rendered the website useless.’

‘If they know Reef ’s been arrested, they’ll move the hostages,’ said Mercy. ‘In the meeting at Thames House, the
CIA
said they were going to go through all contractors used by all
PSC
s in the
USA
and suggested we did the same here to see if we can find a pattern. I haven’t heard anything about their findings, have you?’

‘It’s a slow process. First of all he must have a core of people he’s known for some time, who will be expert at disguising identity, being in two places at once, that kind of thing. Then there are the people he’s hired, but they seem to be on the periphery even if, like Reef, they pulled off one of the kidnaps. I don’t think it’s going to be fruitful working through thousands of contractors, and even if it is, it’ll probably be too late. You know the game. We’ve either got to find the hostages or Jensen.’

‘And we haven’t even talked about the ransom yet.’

‘We’re having a brainstorming session on that later this morning with all concerned, including representatives from the various embassies.’

The woman, wearing a black mac, collar up, handbag slung across her shoulders, stopped and jutted her chin into the bushes. The guy listening on the phone nodded her in. She darted sideways and disappeared into the vegetation. It was almost comical. Her head reappeared and she wound her finger round so that the guy on the pavement thumbed his phone again. Listened. She moved to her left, ducked down again and then came up as if for air. This time her thumb was raised. She emerged with her hands in her pockets.

There was no access to the
DLR
station from that side of the road and no obvious place to park a car on a busy six-lane highway. The couple crossed the road, climbing over the central reservation. Fortunately there was no way into the Docklands at that point and their options were to either walk down Aspen Way and turn right, or climb up to the footbridge where Boxer was standing.

They chose the footbridge.

Boxer preceded them into the
DLR
station. He recharged his Oyster card keeping an eye on them. They went to the platform in the Canary Wharf direction. It was after rush hour, but there were still plenty of people. Boxer got up close and took a good look at them. They both had the lean, hard, purposeful look of trained operatives. Both were wearing coats that could easily have hidden firearms.

Boxer knew he needed backup for this kind of work. The couple could split up. The phone might already have been exchanged between them when they’d been behind him on the footbridge. He wouldn’t know who to go after.

They boarded the train. Boxer went into a different carriage. The couple sat opposite each other, behaving as if separate. They went through Canary Wharf and out the other side into Greenwich. The train was practically empty. Boxer was glad he’d taken a different carriage. The couple didn’t speak, didn’t even exchange glances.

The train continued to Lewisham, the last station. They went out on to the main road, under a railway bridge, and walked alongside a small river into a modern estate of three-storey blocks of flats. It was an almost impossible task to tail them in daylight with so few people on the street.

The man was speaking on his mobile phone. The woman walked alongside but didn’t look around. Boxer realised they were not expecting to be followed. They were taking no precautions. They walked in a continuous progression. They didn’t stop or walk back in the direction they’d just come from or take a circular route. Maybe they were trained, but not in spycraft. They walked under a railway bridge and came out into some residential streets.

They turned up a road with cars parked on either side in front of Victorian terraced houses and a block of seventies flats. They went into a pebble-dashed house about halfway down. The only time they looked around was when they opened the door. Boxer was lucky. He’d teamed up with a young mother pushing her baby in a buggy. As he walked by, he saw that the terrace had a break in it, and set back down a passage were two wooden doors leading to the gardens behind the houses.

He had to act quickly before they set about destroying the phone. He let the woman with the buggy stride away from him. He crossed the street, walked back to the house and slipped down the passage, past the bins. There was a low wall. He jumped on to it and vaulted over the wooden door into a heavily overgrown garden, which backed on to flats in the next street. A cat on the roof of a decrepit shed slipped away. A crow took off into the gunmetal sky from a stone birdbath trussed in weeds.

The kitchen had open venetian blinds. It was empty. A door with a large glass panel led out into the garden. The key was in the inside lock. There was no time to think this through. Boxer ducked under the window, went to the door, took out the Walther P99 and used the butt to smash the window. He put his hand through the shattered pane and let himself in with the key. Gun in right hand, he marched into the front room, which was the only other place the couple could be. He flung the door open and introduced them to the Walther P99.

The phone was on the table with its rear panel removed, along with an open laptop. Both the man and the woman were on their feet. The guy had a Beretta 92 Compact Rail in his hand. The woman had nothing.

‘I suggest you put that down,’ said Boxer. ‘I’ve got the Met kidnap unit outside and four members of the Specialist Firearm Command front and back.’

The man’s eyes flickered towards his companion, which was all Boxer needed to know that he’d got the psychological advantage.

‘Lay it on the table and both of you put your hands on your head.’

Another glance from the man to the woman. She nodded, did what she’d been told. The man put the Beretta down on the table and clasped his hands on his head too.

‘Move over there, stand next to her.’

Boxer tucked the Beretta into his coat. He took a wallet out of the guy’s back pocket, searched his jacket and found his mobile.

‘Backs to the wall, sit on the floor.’

They slid down the wall. Boxer rearranged the furniture and sat in front of them. The woman’s handbag was on the floor by the chair where she’d been sitting. He told her to kick it towards him. Inside he found a Beretta BU9 Nano. He pocketed that too. Put her mobile with her partner’s on the table. Found her wallet, opened it: credit cards in the name of Louise Rylance. He opened the guy’s wallet. His name was Michael Rylance.

‘These your real names?’

They nodded.

‘This your house?’

They nodded again.

‘What’s your story?’ asked Boxer. ‘Army?’

‘Iraq vets,’ said Rylance.

‘How do you know Conrad Jensen?’

‘We met when we were on honeymoon in Dubai.’

‘What were you then? Freelancers?’

They nodded.

‘What did you do for him in this job?’

‘We acted as policemen in the kidnap of Rakesh Sarkar.’

‘How much did he pay you?’

‘A hundred thousand.’

‘Sounds generous.’

‘It’s the first time we’ve done anything illegal,’ said Louise. ‘We haven’t been working, needed the money.’

‘So how did this part of the operation work?’ asked Boxer. ‘Who asked you to pick up this phone?’

‘We got a coded text that meant looking at a website and receiving instructions.’

‘What do you do now?’

‘We’ve already sent a message saying that we’ve been successful.’

‘Are you supposed to destroy the phone?’

‘I don’t think they’re taking any chances. Somebody is going to collect. They’ll advise us of the time.’

‘Do you know where any of the hostages are?’

‘We haven’t seen anyone since the night of the kidnap.’

‘Where did you take Rakesh Sarkar that night?’

‘We took him to an old warehouse out west. Hayes. The Old Vinyl Factory.’

‘Was that where the other hostages were taken?’

‘I think so, but I can’t be certain. There was a set-up there. But Rakesh Sarkar was the first kidnap of the night. We delivered him and left.’

‘Did you know whether the hostages were going to be moved?’

‘We weren’t told anything. We performed our task, that’s all.’

Boxer sent a text to Mercy about the Old Vinyl Factory and said he’d need to speak to her when she was available.

‘And is that it?’ he said. ‘You’re not doing anything else for your hundred grand?’

‘We picked up the phone,’ said Louise.

‘But that must have been extra. A guy got stabbed and chucked his phone. That wasn’t planned,’ said Boxer. ‘So what else has Jensen asked you to do?’

‘There are two other hostages and we’ve been asked to do a twenty-four-hour stint guarding them.’

‘Where?’

‘We don’t know. We’re waiting for those instructions.’

‘In London?’

‘That’s what we were told. It might have changed.’

‘When will you know?’

‘We’re supposed to take over sometime this afternoon.’

‘Do you know who you will be taking over from?’

They shook their heads.

‘Does he know you?’

‘No,’ said Rylance. ‘He only knows our names and that there are two of us, a man and a woman.’

‘How’s that going to work?’

‘They’ll give us a line of code.’

Forsyth took Mercy up to Emma’s bedroom and asked her to wait outside. She was amazed at Forsyth’s transformation and unnerved by what his openness had revealed. His terminology when talking about Jennifer Cook being ‘interviewed’ had been threatening, and this had been backed up by the ‘interrogators’ he’d referred to later. And putting tracking devices in the truck and money was against the expressed instructions of the kidnappers.

‘Don’t be too shocked by her appearance,’ said Forsyth, holding the door closed behind him. ‘It’s the medication.’

He left Mercy to it. Emma was dressed, but lying on the bed apparently asleep. She certainly wasn’t the same woman. Her hair looked thinner. There were bags under her eyes, her skin had lost its tautness and her face looked slack. Her right hand trembled occasionally.

Mercy sat on the bed and took Emma’s hand, stroked it and looked out of the window over the rooftops. Emma squeezed Mercy’s hand to get her attention and put her finger to her lips. She got up with surprising agility and put a pillow gently but deliberately down on the dressing table. Mercy frowned at her.

‘Don’t think me paranoid,’ said Emma, ‘but they’ve miked the room. I saw them do it. They debugged it when they first came in and now they’ve rebugged it with their own.’

‘What’s this about doctor’s supervision?’

‘That’s why he’s left us alone this time. I’m supposed to be drugged up to the eyeballs. I don’t take them. I just act completely out of it.’

‘Why?’

‘They didn’t like what I said about Ken the last time we spoke,’ said Emma. ‘The next thing I know, Ryder’s arranged a Kinderman doctor to see me, who prescribed some heavy-duty antidepressants.’

‘Ryder said you were upset about Sophie’s kidnap
and
Conrad’s betrayal. You were devastated and—’

‘I am, but I don’t need an oral cosh, which is what they’ve tried to give me.’

‘Why stay and be a prisoner in your own home?’

‘I want to know what’s going on. I’m not going to take myself out of the orbit of the people who are supposed to be saving my daughter.’

‘Supposed to be? They
are
, Emma,’ said Mercy. ‘Conrad got involved with you so that he could kidnap your daughter.’

‘I don’t think it was just that,’ said Emma. ‘Ever since I heard about Conrad’s involvement, I’ve been going over all our conversations in my head. It was protracted, over a period of months, but now that I think about it, he was mostly interested in Ken, and not just the reason we’d bust up. I mean, that’s how it started, him wanting to know why and being sympathetic. But then it continued about Ken’s politics, the people he socialised with, his close contacts, his wider network. It was as if he was trying to piece together a picture from a jigsaw of names.’

‘So what are you saying?’

‘I’m not sure. I keep thinking and listening and I’m very careful about what I say or react to in front of people. Especially Ryder. It’s got easier since I’m supposed to be knocked out. I’ve heard names in the last twenty-four hours that have rung bells with me because I remember Conrad wanting me to go over them again in some of our talks. I mean, that’s what Conrad and I did. We just talked. Something that Ken and I hadn’t done for the last five years we were together.’

‘What were these names?’

‘Ray Sutherland and Clifford Chase.’

‘They’re both senior
CIA
officers,’ said Mercy. ‘Sutherland is running the
CIA
operation for this series kidnap and Chase is the London chief of the
CIA
.’

‘Both of them, as Conrad pointed out to me, are intimately involved with Ken and Kinderman. And, as he later found out, hold extreme political beliefs.’

‘And that wouldn’t be to the left of centre, I take it?’