Crocodile Tears (7 page)

“I want to thank you all for coming,” he began, his voice booming out. “I’ll be brief. It will turn midnight in exactly twenty minutes, and that’s when the party really begins. For those of you who stay the course, we’ll be serving haggis, neeps, and tatties, then a traditional Scottish breakfast to see you off. And the champagne will be flowing all night.”

A few people cheered. The invitation had made it clear that everyone was welcome until sunrise.

“We’re here to enjoy ourselves,” he went on. “But at the same time, we can’t forget the many terrible things that are happening around the world and the many millions of people who need our help. I want you to know that tickets sold for tonight’s party, along with raffle tickets, our silent auction, and private donations, have raised a fantastic $875,000 for First Aid.”

There was another burst of applause. Hearing it, Alex felt ashamed of himself. Whatever mistakes he had made in the past, McCain had more than redeemed himself. The whole evening was about helping other people, and in his own small way Alex had inadvertently spoiled it.

McCain held up a hand. “I have no idea how that money will be spent, but thank God it’s there.” He stressed the word
God
as if the two of them were personal friends. “This year, we had those terrible floods in Malaysia, the volcano eruption in Guatemala, and most recently, the incident at the Jowada power station in India, which could have been much, much worse. We were there first. Your money went straight to the people who needed it. Charity is the bond of perfectness, as it says in the book of Colos sians. And the next time disaster strikes, wherever in the world it happens, we will be ready.”

Edward Pleasure had retrieved his coat and slipped it on. One of the waiters had opened the door to reveal a maelstrom of snow against an unforgiving night. It was time to go. Alex took one last look back, and it seemed to him that at that moment, standing on his own in the middle of the gallery, Desmond McCain stared straight at him, locking him into a final eye contact that ignored the six hundred people between them.

“Alex?” Sabina called out to him.

And then they were gone, out of the warmth of the castle, hurrying toward the car that Edward Pleasure was already unlocking, using the remote control on his key ring. The back lights blinked a welcome orange in the darkness. It had been snowing all evening. There was a carpet a couple of inches thick on the ground and on top of all the cars. If it continued much longer, Sabina might get her skiing break after all.

They threw themselves into the Nissan X-Trail, slamming the doors behind them and shaking loose some of the snow that had piled onto the car’s roof. Once again, Alex was glad that they had an off-road vehicle. They would need it tonight.

“What a night!” Edward Pleasure muttered, echoing Alex’s thoughts. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine began to throb reassuringly. He found the heating and turned it up as far as it would go. Alex was next to him. Sabina was once again in the back. “I’m afraid we’re actually going to have New Year on the road,” he said. “It’ll take us at least an hour to get home.”

“I don’t mind.” Sabina was already untangling the wires of her iPod. “That place gave me the creeps.”

“I thought you liked parties.”

“Yes, Dad. But not when I’m the youngest person there by about two hundred years.”

They set off, the tires crunching on the newly laid snow. The weather had briefly cleared—which was just as well. Edward Pleasure would need all the visibility he could get to negotiate his way down the series of hairpin bends that led to the main road beside the loch. Alex took one last look at the great bulk of Kilmore Castle. He could see the firelight glowing behind the windows of the banqueting hall and could imagine McCain’s speech ending, the balloons cascading, the kissing and the singing and then more drinking and dancing into the morning. He was glad they’d left early. He’d had a great time in Scotland, but, like Sabina, he’d felt slightly uncomfortable at the party. He loosened his bow tie, then pulled it off. He’d have preferred to have spent the evening at home.

The accident was so sudden, so unexpected, that none of them even realized it had happened until it was almost over. For Alex, it was as if the journey down the hillside had been broken into a series of still pictures. There was Edward Pleasure changing gear as the car picked up speed. How fast were they going? No more than twenty-five miles per hour. Sabina said something and he half turned around to answer her. The headlights were shooting out, two separate columns, distinct from each other.

And then there was a cracking sound. It seemed to come from a long way away, but that wasn’t possible. It had to be something in the engine. The car shuddered and lurched crazily to one side. Sabina cried out. There was nothing anyone could do. It was as if a giant hand had seized the back of the car and swung it around like a toy. Alex felt the tires slide helplessly across the road. Edward wrenched the steering wheel the other way, but it was useless. They were spinning out of control with the night sky rushing toward them. And then came the moment when the tires left the icy surface altogether, and with a surge of terror Alex knew that they had come off the edge of the rock face, that they were in the air with the black, frozen waters of Loch Arkaig far below.

For half a second the car hung in the air.

Then it pitched forward and plunged down.

5

DEATH AND CHAMPAGNE

IT WAS LIKE DRIVING deliberately into a black wall. They couldn’t stop. There was nothing they could do. The last thing Alex saw was Edward Pleasure clutching the steering wheel as if he had been electrified, his arms rigid, his eyes staring. Outside, the world had turned upside down. The headlights were bouncing off the surface of the loch, which hurtled toward them, filling the front window.

They hit the water. The actual impact was brutal, whipping them forward and backward at the same time. Alex realized that there must have been a thin coating of ice stretching across the lake—he heard it and felt it splinter. It was like smashing through a mirror into another dimension. The car didn’t float, even for a second. Carried on by its own velocity, it plunged into the darkness, huge tentacles of water reaching out and drawing it in. The real world of Scotland and castles and New Year was wiped out as if it had never existed, to be replaced by . . . nothing. All the lights in the car had gone out. It was as if steel shutters had fallen on the other side of the windows. Alex would never have believed that darkness could be so total.

Something was pressing against him, smothering him. For a moment he panicked, punching out with his fists, trying to get whatever it was off him. He couldn’t breathe. What was this huge thing pushing him back into his seat? Where had it come from? He forced himself to think straight, to fight against the sense of blind terror.

The air bag. That was all. It must have been activated at the moment of impact.

Air. He was going to need it. They were still sinking beneath the surface, getting deeper and deeper. He couldn’t see anything, but he could feel the pressure in his ears. There was no letup. It was getting worse and worse. How deep was the loch? Some of these Scottish lakes continued down for hundreds of feet. They would keep going until they reached the bottom, and that was where they would die. What had seconds before been a $35,000 luxury car had become a steel coffin.

There was a soft thud and a shudder as the tires came into contact with mud. Alex was aware of a ton of blackness weighing down on him. They weren’t moving anymore. That was something to be grateful for. But how far down had they gone? More to the point, how long did they have? The car wouldn’t be able to keep the water out for more than a few minutes. It was even now splashing down onto his feet, presumably coming through the air vents on either side of the satellite navigation system. The water was freezing cold, numbing the flesh at first touch. Already it was over his ankles. It was as if his legs were being taken away from him, one inch at a time.

“Dad?” It was Sabina’s voice, coming from the backseat. She sounded a mile away.

“Are you okay, Sabina?” Alex asked.

“Yes. I think so. What about Dad?”

Edward Pleasure hadn’t spoken since they had left the road. Alex reached out over the air bag and felt the worst. The journalist was resting against the steering wheel . . . unconscious, injured, perhaps even dead. It was impossible to say. Alex couldn’t see anything. He drew his hand back and held it in front of his own face, so close that it was brushing against his nose. He couldn’t see it. It was impossible to breathe normally. His heart was racing, trapped inside him, just as he was trapped in this car. He couldn’t deny it. He was terrified.

He swallowed hard and somehow managed to speak. “Your dad’s unconscious,” he said.

“What happened?” He could hear the tears in Sabina’s voice. Like him, she was struggling for control.

“I don’t know.”

“What do we do?”

It should have been silent here at the bottom of Loch Arkaig, yet Alex was aware of noise all around him. The engine was ticking and clanking as the engine cooled. There were strange, ghostlike echoes coming from the lake itself. The Nissan was groaning as it fought against the pressure outside. And—most terrible of all—a steady stream of water continued to splash into the cabin.

Alex felt the water rise over his knees, a blanket of ice. He was sure that it had only been at ankle level a few seconds ago, but time didn’t exist down here. Seconds were hours and a whole life could be over in a minute.

There was the sound of fumbling in the back, then Sabina spoke again. “Alex . . . the door’s locked.”

“Don’t even try to open it!”

Different thoughts were spinning uselessly through his mind. The Nissan might have a self-locking system. If the doors had locked themselves electronically, it would be impossible to get out. But there was no point in getting out anyway. Inside or outside they would die.

“What are we going to do?”

Alex was still blind. He reached up, hitting his hand on the ceiling. Where was the light switch over the mirror? He found it and turned it on. Nothing. Of course, the car’s electrical circuits would have flooded. But then he remembered. Edward Pleasure had consulted a map just after they’d left Hawk’s Lodge . . . and he’d used a flashlight. Where had he put it?

He pushed the air bag out of the way and reached for the glove compartment. Somehow he managed to get it open, and more water poured out. God! They couldn’t have more than a few minutes left. The water had already risen over the edge of his seat, rushing between his legs. It was unbelievably cold. The whole lower part of his body no longer belonged to him.

But he had found what he was looking for. A heavy rubber cylinder. He flicked it on and to his utter relief it worked. The beam leapt out of his hand.

Alex had experienced more than enough in the past year, but he would never forget what he saw right then. It was the perfect nightmare.

The car was already half filled with water, which looked as black and as thick as oil. More of it was pouring out of the ventilation ducts, coming in two steady streams. Outside the windows there was nothing. The glass didn’t even look like glass. They could have been buried alive rather than deep under the surface of Loch Arkaig . . . it would have made no difference. The two air bags took up most of the space in the front of the car. Edward Pleasure was slumped against his, a great gash on the side of his head. Alex undid his seat belt and twisted around. Sabina was looking more frightened than he had ever seen her. She had drawn up her legs as if she were cowering away from the water, but it had reached her anyway. It completely covered the backseat. The bottom of her silver dress was soaked. She was shivering with cold and fear.

They were in a tomb. And they were alone. Nobody would have seen them leave the road. Nobody would ever find them. It would simply seem that they had vanished into thin air.

“Alex . . .” Sabina was staring at the flashlight as if it could somehow save her life. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. The car lost control.”

“Is Dad . . . ?”

“He’s okay. He’s still breathing.” The light flickered and for a brief second the darkness rushed in. It couldn’t go out now! Alex tightened his grip as if he could somehow will the batteries to keep working. “We’re going to have to open the window, Sabina.”

“Why?”

“It’s the reason the doors won’t open. We have to make the pressure inside the car the same as the pressure outside.”

“But then we’ll drown.”

“No.” Alex shook his head. “We didn’t sink that far. I don’t think we can be more than sixty feet down.”

“Sixty feet is a long way, Alex.”

Alex drew a breath. He knew that there couldn’t be too many more breaths in this cramped compartment available to him. The water was rising all the time, the air space beneath the ceiling becoming narrower and narrower. But once the water reached the level of the air vents, it would stop. They would be sitting in a bubble of air that would quickly diminish as they breathed out carbon dioxide. Sabina had been wrong. They wouldn’t drown. They would suffocate.

“We have to get out of the car and swim for the surface,” he said. “It’s the only way.”

“What about Dad?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll look after him.”

“But how do we open the window?”

All the windows in the Nissan were electrically operated, and even if the battery still had power, it wouldn’t have been enough to move them. The pressure outside was too great. A manual handle would have been equally useless. They had to break the glass. Alex thought about leaning back and kicking out, using the heel of his shoe. But he knew it wouldn’t work. He couldn’t get the right angle, and anyway, the glass was reinforced. He’d never have the strength.