Stolen Lives (29 page)

David surely knew these statistics as well as she did, but even so he could have done nothing to prevent his son from being snatched.

She pressed her fingers into her forehead as she tried to focus her thoughts.

Think like a criminal, her father had always advised her. So Jade tried to think in the same way that Kevin’s kidnappers might have done, tried to apply logic and intuition to the facts as she knew them.

“This doesn’t sound like something that’s been organised by the syndicate working inside the building,” she said eventually.

“Why?”

Because Jade’s gut was telling her so. Opening her eyes, she struggled to articulate her feelings in words that David, and she, could understand.

“I don’t think the syndicate would be powerful enough. It must surely be a small-scale operation. A few people who have good jobs at Home Affairs, earning an extra couple of grand a month putting through a few fake passports. If you’re in that situation you’re not going to have the means or the manpower to organise something like this, and you’re certainly not going to have the motive to do it either. Not during a security clampdown, not if you want to keep your job as well as the chance to earn extra money on the side. A month from now people will be getting fired because of this. So, they must have been forced to do it, just like Naisha herself. Chances are there are a couple of frightened people working in those offices today.”

David nodded slowly. He walked back to the table and sat down again.

“Jadey, you’re right.”

“So, Naisha’s clampdown interrupted the plans of whoever is behind this. They need to get out of the country in a hurry.”

“That makes sense.”

“And the person—or people—can’t travel on their own passports.”

“Why not?” David asked. She knew that his rather obvious question was simply a prompt, an encouragement for her to continue with her train of thought.

“Because they must be known to the police. Wanted criminals can’t travel under their own names.”

David slammed his fist down on the table, but this time not in anger.

“Dammit, Jade, we need to follow up on this.”

Then he looked at her more closely, as if he were really seeing her for the first time that day.

“’Scuse me for asking, but what’s that on your head?”

“Oh, shit,” Jade said, clapping a hand onto the crackly silver paper that she’d forgotten all about since arriving home. She jumped up, grabbed the packet Raymond had given her and bolted for the bathroom.

37

Jade wrestled her clothes back onto her still-damp body, and wrapped a towel around her dripping hair after obeying the hairdresser’s instructions to shampoo twice and condition once. Never mind that she’d done it at a speed that she was sure had broken all records for that particular procedure.

She hurried back into the kitchen, the floor cool against her bare feet.

David was standing by the door, grim-faced, gripping his new cellphone and speaking in a tight, strained voice.

“Yes,” he said. “Absolutely. I’ll get onto it right now.”

He snapped the phone shut, then leaned against the wall, pressing his forehead on the cream-coloured plaster.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through today,” he said. “I’ve got a day from hell, starting now. Meetings at the office, meetings at or Tambo, the Bez Valley raid tonight. Right now, I can’t imagine having a coherent, focused conversation with anyone. All I can think about is my son.”

“Can’t you reschedule the meetings?” Jade asked. “Spend the day following up on Kevin instead?”

David turned to her and she saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, but it was swiftly extinguished.

“No,” he said. “Not now. I’ve already confirmed that I’m going to be at the OR Tambo meetings, and there’s no way I can tell my team what’s really going on. Not after the threats the kidnappers made.”

Jade bit her lip. David’s words made logical sense, but she knew that for him to battle his way through a long working day in these circumstances would be torture at best, and impossible at worst.

The kidnappers had said that Kevin would be returned unharmed at the end of the day. But that had been before David’s unexpected arrival at his wife’s house. If they had somebody watching the place, Jade knew Kevin might now be dead.

Didn’t they say that outliving your children was the fate that every parent feared the most?

Jade had taken the framed photograph of her mother out of the box and put it up on the D-shaped arch that separated the kitchen and the sitting room. She glanced over at it automatically.

Elise Delacourt, née de Jong, hadn’t outlived her daughter, but she hadn’t lived to see her grow up, either.

Jade wondered if that was the second fate that every parent feared.

Thinking of her parents reminded Jade of something her father had once said when he’d investigated a kidnapping case involving a young girl from a wealthy family. The parents had been warned not to call the police, and they had only done so in desperation, after they had paid the ransom and the deadline for their daughter’s return had passed.

“One of the worst things about this type of crime is the isolation the parents feel,” her father had explained to her when he’d arrived back late that night. “Whatever happens now, at least their burden has been shared. They can get help from us, and comfort from their family and friends. It doesn’t sound like much, Jade, but believe me, it’s far better than dealing with something like that alone.”

The young girl’s body had been found the next day, dumped in a field, shot execution-style through the back of her head. Two weeks later, her father had arrested the suspect who would eventually plead guilty to the crime.

Now, her father’s words echoed in Jade’s head.

Share the burden. It’s better than shouldering it alone.

“Please let me help you,” she said to David.

He turned round to face her and she could see a glimmer of relief in his eyes. Then he shook his head.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do.”

Jade shrugged. “There must be. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help him come home safe. What about trying to get a description of the people who grabbed him?”

“No. If anybody contacts the school again, the secretary might realise something is going on.”

Jade thought it over and then had an idea.

“You told me that a domestic worker had seen the car. Perhaps I could get her details, saying that you wanted to thank her for her help, and then speak to her about what she saw. That’s a plausible story, surely?”

David’s eyes lit up again. Properly, this time.

“Jadey, I can do better than that,” he said. “I know where she works. Kevin pointed out the house to me. It’s just round the corner from Devon Downs. Pass me a pen and paper and I’ll draw you a map. If you could drive there and get a description from her, I can compare it to our open case files, and we might just be able to get an id on the people who snatched him.”

“I’ll go there straight away,” she said.

But Jade didn’t. Barely a minute after she had let David out of the gate, she heard the roar of a powerful engine and the drumming of tyres travelling at speed over the rutted road.

She peered out of the kitchen window, and saw the streamlined bonnet of a red Ferrari approaching. The car skidded to a stop outside Jade’s gate, tyres digging deep gashes in the sandy soil.

The loud blast of a horn shattered the quiet of the afternoon.

Jade took a deep breath, closed her eyes and offered up a brief prayer for patience.

She buzzed open the gate and watched as the Ferrari shot through. It went too fast over the metal rim of the gateway, and she winced as she heard an unpleasant scraping noise from the undercarriage.

Pamela climbed out and slammed the door. She teetered over to the front door of the cottage, wobbling on yet another pair of strappy high-heeled shoes.

Her face was pale and her hands were trembling. She wasn’t wearing her dark glasses, and her eyes were red-rimmed and vulnerable-looking.

“I’m hiring you again,” she said in a hoarse voice.

Jade opened her mouth to say no, that she wasn’t available, that she didn’t give clients like Pamela a second chance, especially when they didn’t offer an apology or an explanation. But the blonde woman didn’t give her the opportunity.

“I’ve just had a call from Netcare Milpark hospital to tell me my husband has passed away from his injuries. And Tamsin is still missing. I went to see the girl that—whoever it was, that bloody fake aunt—substituted in her place, and it’s not her. It’s not her. I’m a widow now, and I have no family left in the world apart from Tammy.” She took a deep breath and continued in a pleading tone.

“Oh, God, Jade, please. I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I’m going to go to prison, I know it. The way that black detective was looking at me and the questions he was asking, I’m going to end up behind bars, and I just want to be sure my daughter’s safe before I do.”

With a despairing yowl she launched herself at Jade, who staggered backwards as Pamela flung her arms around her and started sobbing, her face buried in Jade’s shoulder.

Jade’s cuttingly worded rejection dissolved on her tongue.

She patted Pamela’s back rather awkwardly.

“It’s ok,” she found herself saying to the blonde woman. “We’ll find her. I’ll do my best to make sure that Tamsin comes home safe.” She realised that her soothing words were a disturbing echo of what she had said to David just a quarter of an hour ago.

Guiding Pamela back into an upright position, Jade stared at the bright, copper-hued horizon.

Two missing children. One kidnapped; the other simply vanished.

Who had taken them, she wondered, and where were they now?

Xavier Soumare turned off the highway and, after a few more turns, headed down a narrow tarred road. The car bounced over the uneven surface, dry grass hissing and swishing along its side as he swerved to avoid a large pothole.

The distant hills swam, mirage-like, in the fierce heat.

He kept his gaze fixed in front of him, watching the road, looking out for the place they were going. Not once did he turn his head to check on the child sleeping on the back seat.

The establishment that he and Mathilde had contacted that very morning, after some careful research, was in a run-down cul-de-sac, which in turn was located in a shabby suburb not far from an informal settlement. Xavier had been surprised to learn that an establishment like this existed in such a place—and particularly a setup that specialised in children—but he supposed that everybody had needs.

And needs, as Xavier knew well, begged to be fulfilled.

At this hour the place was all but deserted, baking quietly in the fierce afternoon heat. He was sure that as the afternoon cooled down, the activity inside would warm up.

He parked inside the walled property after making a phone call to announce himself. The front door was open to allow air inside, but it was guarded by a heavy security gate.

Xavier scanned the area around him; he wanted nobody to see what he was about to do.

He opened the back door of the car. The boy lay curled up on the seat, his breathing deep and regular. He lifted him out. He was light, but even so, Xavier found his arms trembling more than he would have liked as he stood upright.

“Xavier.”

Panting with the effort of holding the boy, Xavier turned towards the sound of Mathilde’s voice.

“Wait. Don’t do it.”

She spoke with some urgency.

Xavier frowned. They had settled on this plan yesterday. It was foolproof, watertight in every way. She had handled the kidnapping professionally, immaculately, like the seasoned criminal she had been and, he had thought, still was. But now, what was happening? Had she lost her nerve?

“Why not?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, to stop it from shaking with the effort of holding the boy.

Mathilde walked around the car. Her sunglasses prevented him from seeing the expression in her eyes, but she was wearing the small, fierce smile that he remembered from the past, when a job was going well.

“Because it will be better if I do it,” she said.

Xavier almost sagged with relief as she took the boy’s weight in her strong arms and set off, brisk and business-like, towards the entrance. He got back into the car and turned the air conditioning up high, drying the sweat that had sprung up on his forehead.

A moment later and Mathilde was inside.

Xavier could see her speaking to the dour-faced receptionist. There would be some negotiation, he guessed, before money changed hands. In a place like this, though, rates were never going to be top dollar.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him. It was so cool in the car, so peaceful. He blinked, slowly and heavily, and, to his alarm, found himself jerking awake with his head resting on the steering wheel, an inch away from activating the horn.

The painkillers. Until now, Xavier had never taken medication when he was on a job, and he was remembering exactly why. But this week, without his medication, he could hardly function.