Stephen Leather - The Bombmaker

It took an hour to get back to the factory unit that they were using as their base. It was on a large industrial estate on the outskirts of Milton Keynes, less than half a mile from the M1. McCracken had leased the unit almost a year earlier in the name of a metal tubing manufacturing company. There was a parking area at the rear of the unit, with spaces for more than two dozen vehicles. The blue Transit van in the landscaping company livery was there, along with the two courier vans, a grey Volvo and a black VW Passat. There was also a 250CC Yamaha motorcycle with a black back-box, and a small scooter. All the vehicles had genuine paperwork and were taxed, insured and MoT'd.

Quinn parked the Peugeot next to one of the courier vans. 'Don and I'll take the Transit to the airport,' said McCracken. 'Leave the stuff in the van for now.'

They got out of the van and went inside the factory. O'Keefe was sitting at the table, playing Patience.

'She okay?' asked McCracken.

'Not a peep,' said O'Keefe, flicking the pack of cards with his thumbnail. His gun was hanging in its holster on the back of his chair. McCracken's gun was where she'd left it, on top of her holdall.

She looked at her wristwatch. 'Right, we're going to drop the Hayes woman at Shepherds Bush at two. Mark, you'd better head off now. Careful how you park the bike.'

'No sweat,' said Quinn. He went over to a large canvas duffel bag and pulled out a black crash helmet, a leather motorcycle jacket and a pair of padded leather gloves. 'Catch you later,' he said, heading for the door.

'Mark, hold on,' said McCracken. She went over to him, brushing her dyed blond hair behind her ears. 'Remember, keep your distance. No eye contact, right? Just check she gets there, and that she doesn't talk to anyone or use the phone.'

Quinn looked pained, as if he resented being given such specific instructions. 'I'm not stupid,' he said. He pulled the crash helmet over his head and flipped down the visor.

McCracken wanted to emphasise how important it was that Hayes didn't spot Quinn following her, but she could see that he wasn't receptive to any advice. He was young and headstrong, and McCracken was starting to wonder if it had been a mistake recruiting him. Not that it was her mistake. Egan had put the team together.

She took her ski mask off the table and put it on. O'Keefe put his on, too. Outside they heard Quinn start up the motorcycle and drive away.

McCracken slipped on her leather gloves and went through to the office section, where she called out Andy's name. Andy opened the door. She'd changed into a pair of black jeans and a white shirt.

'Have you got a suit?' asked McCracken. 'Something suitable for an office?'

Andy looked down at her jeans. 'No. I've got these and what I was wearing when you brought me here.'

'What are you? A size ten?'

'On a good day.'

'You can wear one of mine. We're about the same size.'

McCracken waved at Andy to follow her, and the two women went through to the factory area. McCracken sat down at the table next to O'Keefe. She nodded at the third chair and Andy sat down.

'We're moving out of here,' said McCracken. Her briefcase was on the floor next to her chair, and she swung it on to the table and clicked open the locks. She took out an A-Z London street directory and passed it over to Andy. 'Page forty-two,' she said. 'I've marked the building. It's called Cathay Tower. The address is on a card at the front.'

Andy flicked to the front of the book and found a three-by-four-inch piece of white card. On it was written 'ORVICE WILLIAMS BROKING INTERNATIONAL LIMITED' and an address.

'It's on the ninth floor,' said McCracken.

'I don't understand…' protested Andy, but McCracken held up a gloved hand to silence her.

'You don't have to understand,' she said. 'You just have to do as you're told.' She took a laminated identification badge from the briefcase and handed it to Andy. 'This'll get you into the building. You go there and wait for us. We'll be there first thing tomorrow morning.'

Andy looked at the badge. It had a small metal clip so that it could be attached to clothing. The name of the broking firm was on the badge. So was another name, Sally Higgs, a scrawled signature and Andy's photograph, the Polaroid picture that had been taken on her arrival at the factory unit.

McCracken stood up. 'On your way to the tower, you don't speak to anyone, you don't phone anyone. You will be watched, Andrea. Every step of the way. If you try to communicate with anyone, anyone at all, we'll simply disappear and you'll never hear from us again. Or your daughter.'

Andy stared at the badge.

'You understand?'

'Yes,' mumbled Andy. She looked around the factory as if trying to get her bearings. 'How do I get there?'

'I'll explain that later. But first there's something I want to show you.' She stood up, and Andy followed her across to the computer.

McCracken clicked on the mouse and a view of the Cathay Tower office filled the screen. Andy stared at it, not understanding.

'This is the office we'll be using,' explained McCracken. She clicked on the mouse again. Another view of the office appeared. 'We can see every bit of the office from here,' she said. 'So when you get there, just make yourself comfortable and wait for us. You'll be there on your own tonight, but we'll be watching you.'

Andy nodded, but said nothing.

'You're doing fine, Andrea,' said McCracken. 'Just keep on doing as we ask and this will all be over soon and you'll be back with your family.'

'I want to call my husband.'

'I can't let you do that, Andrea.'

Andy lowered her voice. 'If you don't, Martin'll go to the police, I know he will.'

'He won't. He'll be too worried about what'll happen to you and Katie.'

'No, you don't know him. He'll want to do something. He'll want to react, and by not communicating with him, you're not giving him any choice. There's only one thing he can do. He'll go to the police.'

Green-eyes studied Andy without replying.

'It's been almost five days since you took Katie. He hasn't heard from me since Wednesday night, so…'

Green-eyes stiffened. 'You spoke to him on Wednesday night? You called him from the hotel?'

'You didn't say I wasn't to,' said Andy. 'It was the only call I made. You just said I wasn't to call the police. He needed to know that I was okay. And he needs to know that I'm still okay. Because if he doesn't…' She left the sentence hanging.

'He's not going to do anything that might endanger you and your daughter,' said Green-eyes.

'If he doesn't hear from me, or from Katie, he's going to think that there's nothing to lose by going to the police. Five days is a long time when you're waiting for news. He's a builder, he works with his hands, he's used to doing things, don't you understand? He'll feel that he has to do something. And if you don't let me talk to him, I think he'll go to the police. He'll want to do something, anything, and by not communicating with him you've taken away all his options.'

'I can't trust you, Andrea. Look at that business with the letter at the hotel.'

'I'm sorry. That was stupid. Look, you know I want to talk to him because I miss him – you can understand that, can't you? I want to talk to my husband. But I know what will happen if he does go to the police and you find out. I don't want that to happen. I don't know why you're doing this and I don't want to know. I just don't want anything to happen to my daughter. And if Martin knows that I'm okay, and that Katie's okay, then he'll be more likely to wait and see how it works out.'

'Let me think about it,' said Green-eyes.

'You've got a mobile phone, haven't you? A cellular?'

Green-eyes didn't react.

'So let me use that. It's not in your name, is it? I mean, I'm assuming that…'