Murder in Time (22 page)

He smiled, crow's feet crinkling around his eyes. ‘Daphne had something of a crush on Dan. I suppose it takes marriage to bring you to your senses.'

Ellie smiled back. ‘They've both moved on.'

He nodded. ‘Now we've got that out of the way, what is it you want to know, Mrs Quicke? You said that the case was being reopened?'

‘Not exactly. A private detective has turned up with the suggestion that a friend of mine murdered the doctor, which is absurd. The best way to counter this suggestion is to get at the truth.'

‘Ah, the truth. A difficult commodity. As I said, I wasn't there.'

‘I know that.' They turned the corner into the road leading down to the Broadway. He looked at his watch. She told herself to be brave. ‘There was a hint that your aunt might perhaps have known more about what was going on than was apparent at the time?'

‘What?' He jerked to a stop. Evan started awake and opened his mouth to yell.

Ellie moved on, and Evan subsided. Sam stopped short, and then caught up with Ellie. ‘What was that? Who has suggested …? What a ridiculous idea.' Then, he frowned. Was that a flash of knowledge in his eyes? No, not knowledge but … surmise? An unpleasant thought had struck him. If so, it had quickly been dismissed. He wasn't looking where he was going, and he narrowly avoided bumping into a small boy on a scooter.

‘Mrs Quicke, that is an outrageous suggestion. I'm surprised that you should … Who has had the temerity to …?' His lips twitched with annoyance. ‘That is not remotely … It's slander.'

He was blustering. Protesting too much? ‘It hadn't occurred to you before?'

‘No! Of course not! It's so ridiculous that—'

‘Now it's been brought to your attention, do you think that there could be anything in it?'

‘No, of course not.' He hastened his step, looking at his watch. ‘I'm afraid I must leave you, or I'll be late for my appointment.'

‘You'll give the matter some thought?'

He turned to face her, and she brought the buggy to a halt. ‘If I hear that you have repeated the slander, I shall contact my solicitor.'

‘Surely it's Dan's place to contact a solicitor, not yours?'

‘I … Mrs Quicke, I don't know what to say, except that if I'd known what you were going to say, I'd never have agreed to meet you. Please don't try to contact me again.'

Ellie had stopped walking, so Evan opened his mouth to scream. Ellie hastily began to jog the buggy again. She said, in her meekest voice, ‘I'm sorry to have upset you. An old friend suggested that your aunt might have known more about what went on that night than you, but I agree, it must be most upsetting to hear such things said of a near relative.'

‘Yes. Well. Apology accepted. I take it you won't be repeating the slander …?'

Ellie made her eyes wide. ‘I am so anxious to clear my friend of a murder charge.'

‘Well, not by slandering everyone in sight.'

‘No, no. Only asking.'

He snatched at his temper, gabbled something about being late, and almost ran away from her down the road.

Ellie jiggled the buggy, thinking that Sam was a decent man, and she was sorry to have upset him. But he'd known, or guessed, something about his aunt, hadn't he? And the more he thought about it, the more worried he was going to get. That is, if there were any truth in the gossip … And it rather looked as if there might be something … Nothing too obvious, or Dan and Vera would have known about it, but … something. Yes, something.

She reflected that this business of asking awkward questions was rather like planting a time bomb. You couldn't be quite sure when detonation would take place. On the other hand, the time bomb might turn out to be a damp squib. She wondered if Sam would get back to her that night, or on the morrow?

She looked at her own watch, which was still stopped. She really must find time to get it seen to.

It was a Friday afternoon. Mikey's school let the children out early on a Friday afternoon. She said to Evan, ‘Well, little one, it's nearly time for the schools to be out. Now we're nearly there, shall we wait for Mikey and walk back home with him?'

As she strolled along towards the school, she saw that boys were already beginning to leave. Some were piling on to a bus which had stopped nearby. It was quite possible that Mikey would fail to see her and do the same. He would feel safe enough, in the company of his friends. A selection of cars had drawn up at the roadside to collect boys who lived at a distance. Small cars, medium sized and giant four-by-fours. She'd never been able to understand why townspeople who never ventured into the countryside needed to drive around in a Range Rover or equivalent.

‘Mikey!' She waved her arm, catching sight of him, blazer open, bag hanging from one shoulder, in the company of a couple of his friends.

He waved back and started towards her. ‘What's the matter? Is everything all right?'

‘Evan was fractious. Walking him around was the only way to keep him quiet.'

For some extraordinary reason, Mikey liked Evan, and Evan liked Mikey. Mikey swung off his bag to undo the harness which kept Evan in the buggy, and to lift him out. ‘Pooh! You smell!'

‘What, again?' Ellie turned the buggy round and …

Saw Mikey lifted into the air …

She abandoned the buggy to grab at him …

Was lifted off her feet and thrust into the back of a large car with tinted windows …

A man's voice said, ‘Shut it!'

‘What …!'

The buggy and Mikey's school bag were thrown in on top of her feet, and they were off!

She was tossed backwards on to a seat.

Evan squalled.

Mikey cried out.

Something was thrown over her head, something heavy and black. She fought to breathe, fought to get her arms free, was afraid she was going to suffocate.

They'd been kidnapped!

‘Quiet!' said a muffled, heavily accented voice above her. ‘Or the granny gets it!'

Had he been listening to too many American films?

Another voice, a different one, said something in a foreign language. Objecting, aggrieved. Probably, he was saying they were only supposed to lift the boy.

The other replied. It sounded as if he were the boss. Slightly uneasy but forceful. On the lines of, ‘Well, we've got him, haven't we?'

Someone plucked Ellie off the seat and dumped her on the floor, still shrouded in the blanket, or whatever it was. The one with the heavy accent said, ‘You! Keep quiet! Don't move or the baby gets it.'

Ellie couldn't breathe properly. She told herself not to hyperventilate or she really would pass out. It was terribly uncomfortable, down on the floor. Her skirt had risen up; she could feel carpet under her legs. Someone – one of the men who'd kidnapped them – was folding up the buggy; it had a distinctive squeak and grind.

Kidnapped. They'd been kidnapped? She could hardly believe it. In broad daylight!

Ah, that was better, she'd made room somehow around her head. She could breathe better. She wriggled into a more comfortable position. Was Mikey all right? And Evan?

She listened, hard.

No sound from Mikey. Had he been muffled up as well? Could he breathe?

What about little Evan? Ah, but he liked riding in cars, didn't he?

The car changed gear, soundlessly. They had moved on to a faster road. Where was it that Abdi lived? Somewhere in Belgravia? If so … let us pray. Hard.
Dear Lord, dear Lord, dear Lord
…

No one knows where I am. The last thing Thomas said to me was always to let him know where I was going. Rose knew I was meeting Sam, but Sam had left us before these men drove up in the car. They'd have taken Mikey, whoever was with him. Surely someone in the road would have noticed us being kidnapped and alerted the police?

Possibly not. It all happened so quickly. One minute I was waving to Mikey, the next he'd picked up Evan, and then … we were in the car.

Thomas! He'll go spare when he hears I'm missing. But it may be some hours before anyone realizes that we're not around. Vera won't be back from college till about six. It was about three when I met Mikey. Rose won't know anything.

What will Thomas do? Does he know where Abdi lives? It will be on the papers I gave Gunnar, but will Thomas think of that? He will ring the police … and say what? Does he have enough information to get the police moving? Gunnar might help. But it's the weekend, and everything slows down on Friday night. Would Gunnar be available? Probably not. Would the police act? Y-yes. Eventually. Vera will be frantic.

There's at least two men in the back of this car plus a driver. I didn't get a proper look at any of them.

Abdi is not one of them. No. These are hired men. And stupid, because they've taken three people instead of one. Abdi's not going to be pleased to find me with Mikey, is he? I suppose he may have plans to whip the boy off to Somalia or wherever this evening. Yes, but what is he going to do with a middle-aged lady who is getting cramp, crouched in an uncomfortable position on the floor of this car? And the baby? Thankfully, Evan seems to be enjoying the ride. But, oh, when Diana hears about this!

Abdi won't kill me. No.

Surely not.

No, surely not!

He'll take the boy off and … what? Dump me and Evan somewhere, to be found after he's left the country? He wouldn't try to take me with them, would he? No, no. Of course not.

The man seated above her was complaining. ‘Urgh!'

Mikey's voice, small but unafraid. ‘It's the baby. He's not well. He needs changing.'

Another man laughed. A taunting comment, which one could translate as, ‘Wait till the master hears …'

The car slowed and stopped. Traffic lights?

Ellie felt around her. Could she find the door, and a handle?

‘Don't even think it, boy,' said the one who spoke American. There were two men in the back. There would be one on either side of Mikey.

The car moved off again. Ellie tried to find a more comfortable position. She was up against someone's legs. Honestly! Couldn't they take pity on her grey hairs? Someone cursed, but allowed her a little more room to stretch out.

Evan was crooning to himself. Lucky Evan.

Ellie dozed … and jerked awake as the car bumped and jolted down a slope and came to a standstill.

‘You! Out!'

Could she make a break for it from the roadside, attract the attention of passers-by before being hustled into the house?

She was lifted and dragged to her feet, and the coat, or whatever it was, removed from her head. She blinked, accustoming her eyes to the light. They were in a dimly lit concrete chamber. They were not in the street, but in a private, underground garage. Oh.

Mikey was brought out next. He was still clutching little Evan, who seemed to have fallen asleep, hurray!

‘Mikey. You all right?' Her tongue was stiff.

He nodded.

She said, ‘Let me take Evan. He's heavy.'

Mikey handed him over. ‘I think he's leaking.'

Oh. Whiffy, definitely. And yes, leaking. There was a tell-tale brown stain down Mikey's shirt. But at least Evan was asleep, praise the Lord.

One of the kidnappers had his smartphone out, reporting their arrival.

The buggy and Mikey's school bag were thrown out of the car. Ellie tugged her clothes straight with the hand that wasn't clutching the baby. Amazingly, she still had her handbag over her arm.

‘I'll take that,' said the man with the bad accent. He was tall, dark and handsome. Another Somalian by the look of him. He yanked her bag from her arm, took her mobile phone and stowed it in his own pocket. He rifled through the bag, didn't find anything else of interest and thrust it back at her.

Mikey went to pick up his school bag. The man took it off him, retrieved Mikey's mobile and flung the bag into the shadows. Mikey said nothing. Neither did Ellie. What good would it do?

Ellie looked around. There was parking for at least four cars in this garage. There was a fine-looking Mercedes, a sports car, and some kind of people carrier. All expensive. All looking pretty new.

‘Move.' They were being shunted towards a lift. In they got. Mikey was wide-eyed, apprehensive but not fearful.

Ellie put one arm around him in the lift, hefting the baby to keep him on her shoulder. Oh dear, he really was whiffy, wasn't he? Would he leak on to her coat?

Up and up. Second floor or third?

Sunlight. Bright, too bright.

Lots of gilded furniture. Lots of green. Flashes of light as sunlight struck the bevel of mirrors.

‘Move!'

They were shepherded through a large landing into a room which was also filled with sunlight. A well-appointed sitting room with a bedroom and a bathroom off it. Furniture by Harrods out of the repro department, all tapestry seats and backs, and spindly legs. Occasional tables with carved legs. Settees that didn't look as if they'd be very welcoming if you sat on them. Not at all suitable for a boy of twelve.

And there was Abdi.

Abdi was in full spate. Furious!

Ellie might not understand every word he said, but could translate nevertheless.

‘Fools! Imbeciles! Brains of a frog! Offspring of …!' Well, she got the picture.

Abdi put his hands on Mikey's shoulders. ‘This is not the welcome I dreamed of for you, my son—' And then, recoiling: ‘What …?'

Mikey said, ‘It's the baby. He's not well. I was carrying him. He needs changing.'

Abdi turned on his men. ‘You idiots!' Or words to that effect.

Ellie felt her knees give way under her and found a chair, transferring Evan to her lap. ‘Yes, the baby needs changing and some food. Can you find me some nappies? I need to clean him up. A dummy – you know, a pacifier – would be helpful, and a bottle of milk, and oh, some puréed carrots or whatever you can find in the kitchen. And then, if you please, you may call me a taxi to take me home.'