Brian Freemantle - The Predators

‘It was indecency in a public place, twelve years ago,’ reminded Gaston, patting his brother’s hand again. ‘The girl was sixteen. Charles was eighteen.’

‘It won’t show up,’ said Felicite positively. She held out a wavering finger, as if she was holding a gun, stopping at Blott. ‘You can compose the next message. I’ve got an identification. She’s got a pet rabbit named Billy.’

The fat man shifted uncomfortably. ‘What shall I say?’

‘This one doesn’t have to have any input from me,’ said Felicite, impatient again. ‘I don’t want to know what it says. Just compose it and give it to August to send.’

‘Should I make a demand? Get it over with quickly?’ asked Blott hopefully.

‘I think you should,’ said Smet. ‘I want to get it finished. I’m the one under all the pressure.’

‘There’s no hurry,’ said Felicite. ‘They’re the ones under pressure. I want to increase it before the negotiations start.’

Cool said: ‘We should kill her. We’re going to anyway. Let’s have a party, now, and get it over with.’

‘You know the party we’re going to have,’ Felicite reminded him. ‘The others haven’t found their new friends yet.’

Before she left, Felicite beckoned Gaston away from his brother. She said: ‘Charles was getting too excited this afternoon. I don’t want him doing anything to Mary.’

‘I know how to quieten him,’ said the man. ‘Don’t worry.’

Before Sanglier caught a late afternoon train back to The Hague it was agreed to post an appeal on every Internet provider for users to leave the embassy’s home page clear for whoever held Mary to make unimpeded contact, despite Kurt Volker’s doubt that it would have any effect.

‘It’s a user’s dream,’ warned the German. ‘Every surfer is a voyeur at heart. Think of the opportunity! The chance to become involved in a sensational investigation from the uninvolved comfort and danger-free safety of their own armchair! Certainly every journalist from every media outlet will be permanently connected.’

Claudine was depressed by the enormous traffic flow into the greatly enlarged computer centre, unable to believe it possible for a genuine kidnap message to be identified from the mass of material being sorted in front of her. Volker wanted to attempt a fast-track selection program and refused Claudine’s dinner suggestion, so because it had been a hard day and La Maison du Cygne was conveniently close she and Blake ate there again. Exhausted, Claudine sat back, very content to let Blake order.

‘A lot of battles won?’ he suggested.

‘But not the war,’ cautioned Claudine. She supposed she should have felt satisfied by the events of the day but she didn’t. She felt curiously flat, unsettled that there wasn’t a positive direction in which to go. It wasn’t, she knew, a properly dispassionate reflection but always in the forefront of her mind was the thought of an imprisoned child she had somehow to find.

‘You think the Americans will still try to go it alone?’

‘Norris will, if he gets the chance,’ predicted Claudine.

‘I can’t see that happening now,’ said Blake, looking casually round the room.

‘I did a terrible tiling to him today.’ She supposed her guilt contributed to her despondency.

‘It was justified, in the circumstances.’

‘It’s never justified for a doctor, which I am, to make an illness worse!’

‘You think you did that?’

‘Very possibly.’

‘But you can’t be sure?’

‘I think I did. That’s enough.’

‘It will be, if you get Mary back,’ said Blake, turning Claudine’s words back upon her.

‘It’s supposed to be a combined effort,’ she reminded him. The sole was excellent but she was having difficulty eating. Perhaps she should have stayed at the hotel.

‘You were very impressive today,’ Blake congratulated her.

Claudine’s spirits lifted slightly. ‘You were pretty impressive yourself.’

‘Largely repeating your theories.’

‘I’d say the input was fifty-fifty.’

‘You think there could be something from the people who’ve got her among all the stuff that’s come in?’

Claudine shrugged: ‘If there is it’s going to be a hell of a job finding it.’

‘I don’t like the helplessness of having to wait for them to make a move. They’re orchestrating the entire thing.’

‘That’s the whole point,’ insisted Claudine. ‘They’re getting their satisfaction from control: making us follow their lead.’

‘Similar to Norris?’

‘Marginally.’

‘Let’s hope it’s the only way they’re getting their satisfaction,’ said Blake heavily.

‘I wish to God I could be more certain about that,’ admitted Claudine. ‘If she is still alive and they’ve started abusing her she’ll break – become subservient, and totally confused by adults doing things to her she won’t fully understand. Why it’s happening, I mean.’

‘She’s been gone more than three days,’ the man reminded her.

‘They might still not have touched her, physically. Don’t forget the usual way is to try to convince the child that sex with an adult is quite normal: talk about it first and show them photographs and films of it happening to other children.’

‘That sounds bad enough to me,’ said Blake.

‘I’m hoping for arrogance,’ said Claudine. ‘And that’s how I’m connecting the daytime abduction with their first contact. Both are arrogant – the daylight snatch, on a crowded street – even reckless. That’s in Mary’s favour.’

‘How long will it go on like that?’

‘I wish I knew,’ admitted Claudine honestly. ‘Just as I wish I could guess how much longer Mary can hold on, whether she’s being sexually molested or not.’

‘We’ve established that she’s strong-willed.’

‘That will have helped at first. Made it easier for her to convince herself she isn’t frightened. Which she will be, of course. Terrified. Gradually – there’s no way of predicting how gradually – the terror will replace the resistance. When that happens she’ll start wanting to ingratiate herself. Think that if she does what they want they’ll treat her kindly. Let her go, even.’

‘Making it easier to convince her about the sex?’

Claudine nodded, abandoning the rest of her meal.

‘You haven’t eaten much.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘That all?’

‘It’s been a long day. I’m tired.’

‘It doesn’t show.’

It would have done, if she hadn’t concentrated upon her make-up, more than once rearranged her hair after showering and taken the time to choose between three dresses before coming out. She was glad she had. He’d changed too, she realized. ‘I’d like to believe it.’

‘After the knife attack on the last case you were authorized to carry a weapon?’

Claudine was startled by the abrupt change of direction. ‘Yes?’

‘You carrying it now?’

She was still bewildered. ‘No. I’m embarrassed about it: it was an over-reaction.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Back in The Hague, in my safe.’

‘Not a lot of use there, is it?’

‘What about you, after Ireland?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you carrying?’

He smiled sheepishly. ‘I left it at the hotel. Which is not just stupid but a very good reason for me to be disciplined.’

‘Touche!’ What the hell was this all about?

‘You enjoy Europol?’

Now which way were they going! They’d had this conversation, surely? ‘I didn’t want to stay in England after my husband died. I wish there was more to do.’

‘Lots of opportunity to meet people.’

‘If you want to meet people,’ she agreed.