Dick Francis - The Danger

'Now you got a horse, Nerrity. Worth a bits we reckon. Six million. Seven. Sell it, Nerrity. Like we said, we want five million. Otherwise your kid suffers. Nice little kid, too. You don't want him screaming, do you? He'll scream with what we'll do to him.

'You get a bloodstock agent busy. We'll wait a week. One week, seven days. Seven days from now, you get that money ready in used notes, nothing bigger than twenty. We'll tell you where to leave it. You do what we tell you, or it's the castration. We'll send you a tape of what it sounds like. Slash. Rip. Scream.

'And you keep away from the police. If we think you've called in the Force, your kid's for the plastic bag. Final. You won't get his body back, Nothing. Think about it.

'Right, Nerrity. That's the message.'

The voice stopped abruptly and there was a numb minute of silence before anyone moved. I'd heard a score of ransom demands, but always, every time, found them shocking. Nerrity, like many a parent before him, was poleaxed to his roots.

'They can't… ' he said, his mouth dry, the words gagging.

'They can,' Tony said flatly. 'but not if we manage it right.'

'What did they say to you this afternoon?' I asked. 'What's different?'

Nerrity swallowed. 'The… the knife. That part. Before, he just said "five million for your kid". And I said I hadn't got five million… He said, "you've got a horse, so sell it." That was all. And no police, he said that too. Five million, no police, or the boy would die. He said he'd be getting in touch. I began to shout at him… he just rang off.

Rightsworth took the cassette out of the recorder and put it in its box, putting that in its turn in the cardboard carton, all with exaggerated care in the plastic gloves. He would be taking the tape, he said. They would maintain the tap on Mr Nerrity's telephone, he said. They would be working on the case, he said.

Nerrity, highly alarmed, begged him to be careful; and begging didn't come easy, I thought, to one accustomed to bully. Rightsworth said with superiority that every care would be taken, and I could see Tony thinking, as I was, that Rights-worth was treating the threats too pompously and was not, in consequence, a brilliant detective.

When he had gone, Nerrity, his first fears subsiding, poured himself another stiff gin and tonic, again with ice and lemon. He picked the ice out of a bucket with a pair of tongs. Tony watched with incredulity.

'Drink?' he said to us as an afterthought.

We shook our heads.

'I'm not paying that ransom,' he said defensively. 'For one thing, I can't. The horse is due to be sold in any case. It's four years old, and going to stud. I don't need to get a bloodstock agent, it's being handled already. Some of the shares have already been sold, but I'll hardly see a penny. Like I said, I've got business debts.' He took a deep drink. 'You may as well know, that horse is the difference to me between being solvent and bankrupt. Biggest stroke of luck ever, the day I bought it as a yearling. He swelled slightly, giving himself a mental pat on the back, and we could both see an echo of the expansiveness with which he must have waved many a gin and tonic while he recounted his good fortune.

'Isn't your business,' I said, 'a limited company? If you'll excuse my asking?'

'No, it isn't.'

'What is your business?' Tony asked him casually.

'Importer. Wholesale. One or two wrong decisions…' He shrugged. "Bad debts. Firms going bankrupt, owing me money. On my scale of operations it doesn't take much of a recession to do a damned lot of damage. Ordinand will clear everything. Set me to rights. Fund me for future trading.

Ordinand is a bloody miracle.' He made a furious chopping gesture with his free hand. 'I'm damned if I'm going to throw away my entire life for those bloody kidnappers.'

He'd said it, I thought. He'd said aloud what had been festering in his mind ever since Miranda's 'phone call. He didn't love his son enough for the sacrifice.

'How much is Ordinand worth?' Tony said unemotionally.

'They got it right. Six millions with luck. Forty shares at a hundred and fifty thousand each.' He drank, the ice clinking.

'And how much do you need to straighten your business?'

'That's a bloody personal question!'

Tony said patiently, 'If we're going to negotiate for you, we have to know just what is or isn't possible.'

Nerrity frowned at his lemon slice, but then said, 'Four and a half, thereabouts, will keep me solvent. Five would clear all debts. Six will see me soundly based for the future.'

Tony glanced about him and the over-plush room. 'What about this house?'

. Nerrity looked at him as if lie were a financial baby. 'Every brick mortgaged,' he said shortly.

'Any other assets?'

'If I had any other bloody assets I'd have cashed them by now.'

Tony and I exchanged glances, then Tony said, 'I reckon we might get your kid back for less than half a million. We'll aim lower of course. First offer, a hundred thousand. Then take it from there.'

'But they won't… they said…' Nerrity stopped, floundering,

'The best thing,' I said, 'would be to get yourself onto the City pages of the newspapers. Go into print telling the world there's nothing like a Derby winner for keeping the bailiffs out.'

'But…'

'Yes,' I interrupted, 'Maybe not in the normal way good for business But your creditors will be sure they'll be paid, and the kidnappers will be sure they won't. Next time they get in touch, they'll demand less. Once they acknowledge to themselves that the proceeds will be relatively small compared with their first demand, that's what they'll settle for. Better than nothing, sort of thing.'

'But they'll harm Dominic…'

I shook my head. 'It's pretty doubtful, not if they're sure they'll make a profit in the end. Dominic's their only guarantee of that profit. Dominic, alive and whole. They won't destroy or damage their asset in any way if they're convinced you'll pay what you can. So when you talk to the press, make sure they understand - and print - that there'll be a margin over, when Ordinand is sold. Say that the horse will wipe out all your debts and then some.'

'But…' he said again.

'If you have any difficulty approaching the City editors, we can do that for you,' I said.

He looked from Tony to me with the uncertainty of a commander no longer in charge.

'Would you?' he said.

We nodded. 'Straight away.'

'Andrew will do it,' Tony said. 'He knows the City. Cut his teeth at Lloyds, our lad here.' Neither he nor I explained how lowly my job there had been. 'Very smooth, our Andrew, in his city suit,' Tony said.

Nerrity looked me up and down. I hadn't replaced my tie, although I'd long unrolled my trousers. 'He's young,' he said disparagingly.

Tony silently laughed. 'As old as the pyramids,' he said. 'We'll get your nipper back, don't you fret.'

Nerrity said uncomfortably, 'It's not that I don't like the boy. Of course I do.' He paused. 'I don't see much of him. Five minutes in the morning. He's in bed when I get home. Weekends… I work, go to the races, go out with business friends. Don't have much time for lolling about.'

Not much inclinations either, I diagnosed.

'Miranda dotes on him,' Nerrity said, as if that were no virtue. 'You'd have thought she could keep her eyes on him for five minutes, wouldn't you? I don't see how she could have been so bloody stupid.'

I tried explaining about the determination of kidnappers, but it seemed to have no effect.

'It was her idea to have the kid in the first place,' Nerrity grumbled. 'I told her it would spoil her figure. She went on and on about being lonely. She knew what my life was like before she married me, didn't she?'

From the other side, I thought. From the office side, where his life was most intense, where hers was busy and fulfilled.