Bright Angel (14 page)

I shook my head.

‘Don't worry, Sylvie,' he said, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘It'll be over soon. Captain Gaudry said they'd have the statements for us to sign within half an hour.'

‘Mick, they think I'm lying,' I whispered, trying to stop my voice from cracking.

He looked startled. ‘What?'

‘They asked me all sorts of questions. Stuff about why I was in St-Bertrand, about how long I'd known Daniel, all sorts of things that had nothing to do with what I came to tell them. It was almost as though they suspected I was somehow in on it.'

‘I'm sure they don't,' he said, looking earnestly into my eyes. ‘They did it to me too, and I didn't know Daniel from a bar of soap before the other day, and have never clapped eyes on Gabriel at all. It's just their way. They're just naturally cautious and like to cover all the bases.' He smiled. ‘Trust me. My favourite uncle's a cop. I know how their minds work.'

‘You really think so?'

‘I do. They keep their cards close to their chests in cases like this.'

‘They sure do! I hardly got anything out of that Lieutenant. She wouldn't tell me if Daniel had actually been arrested or anything like that.'

He took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. ‘Well, I got the strong impression he hadn't.'

My heart gave a leap. ‘How do you know?'

‘Oh, just from things the Captain said – it sounded more to me like they've taken him into protective custody than arrested him.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, I gather there have been credible threats made in the past against Udo's whole family, so maybe they think the kidnapper expected to get him too and when he wasn't there, they just snatched Gabriel. So Daniel is likely in danger too. The cops are just protecting him.'

‘Oh, Mick! Do you really think so?' I felt as though a great burden was lifting from me.

‘I wouldn't be at all surprised. I mean, it makes much more sense than the other thing, doesn't it?'

I nodded. ‘It sure does. Mick, you know, when I asked if I could see Daniel or send a message to him, the Lieutenant said it wasn't possible. Maybe that's because they've got him hidden away somewhere for his own safety. Kind of like witness protection.' Then I frowned. ‘But surely the kidnapper wouldn't try again?'

‘Maybe not. But maybe they think Daniel knows something, I mean, maybe has an idea who did it.'

‘Why should he? He wasn't even there when it happened,' I said.

‘Yes, but maybe he still knows something – has a clue – something that might lead to the kidnapper – and say that guy finds out – then he'd go after Daniel. Maybe that's their reasoning.'

‘Maybe it is,' I said, and was about to say more when just then Lieutenant Jettou came back with our statements, which she told us to read carefully and then sign. This done, she handed us her card. ‘This has my mobile number on it. Any time of the day or night, if you remember anything else, no matter how small, give me a call,' she said. ‘And thank you both for being so public-spirited as to come in without being asked.' She gave us a small nod and a faint smile and left with the witness statements. Mick gave a great sigh. ‘Thank God that's over. I don't know about you, but I feel exhausted. Fancy a coffee or something before we head back?'

I looked at my watch. It was nearly five o'clock. Oh well, it would only take an hour or so to get back to St-Bertrand. We didn't eat before at least seven. Plenty of time for Freddy not to start panicking. And I needed that coffee too, and badly. ‘Okay, why not?' I said.

It was just as we were just waiting for our coffees, sitting at an outside table in a café bordering the main square of Toulouse. I wouldn't have noticed the car, normally – there was a lot of traffic inching around that side of the square and I was pretty busy with my own thoughts – but I saw Mick's sudden movement of surprise, quickly repressed. But not quickly enough. Just as the car passed by, I saw the unmistakeable profile of the person in the back seat. For an instant, he turned his head. Our eyes met. My heart clenched like a fist.

‘Daniel!'

‘Sylvie, don't!'

Taking no notice of Mick, I jumped up and ran after the car. But it had already reached the end of the street and was accelerating, turning sharply left. Yet I still thought I'd catch it up. The roads weren't exactly wide round there, and the traffic was heavy. But the crowds were heavy too and though I elbowed my way along as quickly as I could, by the time I reached the place where the car had turned, it had disappeared. Perhaps it had turned left again, or right, for other roads branched off from it. I had no way of knowing which. But I tried anyway. I turned left. Nothing. I ran back the way I'd come and turned right. Nothing.

I had a stitch in my side, and my breath was coming in wheezing gasps from running so fast and so uselessly. I stood there, trying hard not to cry, not to make an exhibition of myself more than I already had done, running and yelling like that. People were already staring at me.

‘For God's sake, Sylvie.' A puffing Mick had caught up with me.

‘I know. It was stupid. Useless. He didn't want to stop. He doesn't want anything to do with me. He hates me.'

‘Maybe it wasn't up to him,' said Mick cautiously. ‘Did you see who he was with?'

I shook my head.

‘I only got a glimpse,' he said. ‘Two blokes. Probably cops.'

‘Where were they taking him?'

‘Search me. Back home? A safe house? No idea. But anyway, Sylvie, look on the bright side.'

I glared angrily at him. ‘What the hell are you talking about? What bloody bright side is there in all this mess?'

‘At least this proves he's not under arrest or anything,' he said, calmly ignoring my fury. ‘They'd have locked him in a cell if that was the case. Not taken him for a drive.'

I looked at him. Slowly, I said, ‘Oh, yes.' I hesitated, then hurried on, ‘Sorry about that. I didn't mean–'

‘It's okay. I understand. You're under huge stress,' he said gently. ‘Look, you still want that coffee?'

‘I-I think I'd be sick if I had it now,' I said. ‘Can we please just go home? I-I need my family.' I saw something flicker in his eyes then. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean to imply – I mean, you've been so great, I really appreciate it. I just feel like I need to be with my family and...' I tailed off, feeling my face heating up.

‘Oh, I know,' he said quietly. ‘Believe me, I do. Family's important. It's quite all right, Sylvie. I totally understand.'

But I feared he didn't. I feared I'd hurt him, like an idiot, selfishly, without thinking. And he had been great. He had been more than great. Utterly reliable. A rock. On an impulse, I reached up to him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Mick, for being so understanding.'

He turned his head and looked at me. He said, roughly, ‘It's nothing. What else could I do?' and he strode away from me, as if I'd offended him even more.

We went back to the car without speaking. The silence lasted for a good while longer, when we were well on the motorway out of Toulouse. Mick had turned on the radio, full blast, to some music station that played old-fashioned rock in loops, and the loud, thumping, basic beat of it, the chugga-chug guitar riffs filled the car with noise. Classic rock, they call it, but I reckon it sucks, big-time. It also made my headache worse but I didn't dare say anything. I've really stuffed everything up, I thought, miserably. I couldn't get through to Daniel, and now I've put Mick offside, without even knowing why or how. I wanted so much to get back home, but I had no idea really how Freddy and Claire would react. They were just as likely to hit the roof than understand how I felt. Who wouldn't, after all, hearing that their niece and sister got herself mixed up in such a murky story of kidnap and assault? They'd contact Mum and Dad. We'd leave and I'd never get a chance to speak to Daniel again, to explain.

The latest song finished. The news came on. I listened, holding my breath. The Lieutenant had said there would be something about the case in the papers tomorrow – she'd said nothing about the radio today – but you never knew. I concentrated really hard, but the announcer went so fast that I could barely catch even a fraction of what he said. I certainly didn't hear any names I knew. But then Mick clicked off the radio and spoke for the first time since we'd left.

‘Well, that wasn't much, was it?'

‘Did they say something about it? I couldn't make it out,' I said timidly.

He glanced at me. ‘They just said that they were shortly expecting confirmation from the police on a major crime committed in the region,' he said.

‘Is that all? What's the use of saying that?'

He smiled, faintly. ‘They're just being careful, in case the police don't give them the juicy stuff. But they're also making sure the police don't back out of telling them.'

‘I suppose so,' I said. I swallowed. ‘Mick, Lieutenant Jettou said she didn't think the kidnapper would harm Gabriel. Do you think that's true or was she just trying to make me feel better?'

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘But on balance I think she's probably right. The kidnapper must have made demands. Gabriel is their bargaining chip. Why would they hurt him?'

‘They hurt Pilar,' I said.

‘Yes, but she must have tried to stop them. And they don't need her. They do need Gabriel. My guess is that they've got him somewhere safe and sound. They'd be looking after him. It's worth their while to do that.'

I shivered. ‘Poor Gabriel. He must be so scared. All alone, without his brother. And Daniel – that must really torment him, too – that he's not with Gabriel.'

‘Maybe he's lucky he isn't,' said Mick soberly.

I swallowed. ‘Why? You think they'd hurt him?'

‘No, but he might try to fight back. To get away from them. And then he might be in trouble. A little kid – well, he's less likely to do that, isn't he?'

‘But Mick, why do you think they kidnapped Gabriel? Is it because his uncle's rich and can pay a big ransom?'

He shrugged. ‘Perhaps. And perhaps it's more than that. Remember how I told you about how he's rumoured to be associated with organised crime? Maybe it's a rival who's planned this. Or maybe it's revenge for something. Who knows?'

‘Do you think ... what do you think will happen if the demands, whatever they are, aren't met?'

He sighed. ‘I don't know. It depends on his family, I suppose. Whether they care enough to help him.'

‘Of course they care! Daniel adores his brother, and surely the uncle must love him too. I mean, he took them in and everything when their mother died. Maybe it's true he's a criminal – but he'd never give up on his own flesh and blood, would he?'

‘I guess you must be right,' he said. ‘I sure hope so.' He paused. ‘I suppose it depends what the demands are. And what the police advise. And if Udo agrees with that advice. He might try to deal with it in his own way.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Look for the kidnappers himself. If he really is into organised crime, then he'd have contacts. He'd launch his own investigation. He'd try to find the guys to punish them. And then–'

I shivered. ‘Stop. I can't bear to think about that.'

‘No,' he said, with a sideways glance at me. ‘You're right.'

I swallowed. ‘Mick, I wonder if maybe I should try to call Daniel on his mobile or something? Try to get him to speak to me.'

He shook his head. ‘I don't think that'd be a good idea. Even if he does answer you – which I don't suppose he will – his mobile is most likely being monitored.'

‘By the police?'

‘Almost certainly by them. And maybe by the kidnappers.'

Ice crept up my scalp. ‘Do you really think they could?'

‘It's difficult but possible, if they're cluey about stuff like that. You'd be surprised at how sophisticated some of these people can be, or at least some of the ones they work with. Electronic and cyber-type crime is a big thing these days. They just need a good hacker.'

‘Oh,' I said.

‘Even an ordinary geek like me could have a crack at it,' he said, ‘though of course it might be more than I could actually handle.'

I stared at him. A bizarre idea had come winging into my mind. I said, ‘Mick, I've just thought of something.'

‘What?'

‘I wondered if the kidnappers have already contacted Daniel on his mobile?'

It was his turn to stare at me, but all he said was, ‘Go on.'

‘Well, if they did, there must be a trace of some sort – like, they'd have left a number–'

He shook his head. ‘If they did, then they'd have used a mobile they'd just throw away, afterwards. A prepaid one in a false name. Use once, then dispose of the SIM card or even the whole mobile. Easily done. Criminals do it all the time.'

‘Oh. I thought you might have been able to trace it. I thought maybe that if we tried to talk to Daniel and then he might show you his mobile and you could try to work it out from that.' I trailed off, seeing his expression. ‘Okay, it was a stupid idea. I can see that now.'

‘Not that stupid,' he said. ‘It has possibilities. Let me think about it. You never know.'

I thought he was just being kind. Not wanting to make me feel ignorant. But I knew I couldn't expect anything, not really. It was nice of him not to just slap me down for being naive and silly and clutching at straws.

When we got back to St-Bertrand, Mick wanted to walk me home from the car park on the hill, but I refused in as gentle a manner as I could. I wanted to gather my thoughts before I faced Freddy and Claire, but was afraid he'd think I was giving him the bum's rush once I didn't need him any more. Actually, I did need him, and I told him so. He smiled and said he was glad, and said he'd give me a bell tomorrow, that he wasn't sure exactly when, because he might go and chase something up he'd just thought of. I asked him what and he smiled again and said he wasn't sure if it would work so he didn't want to say anything just now and get my hopes up. Well, of course that did get my hopes up but I pretended to be really cool about it, and said goodbye to him with a little lift of the heart.

I thought he might try to kiss me then, but he didn't. He just smiled and said I mustn't worry, I must try to get a good night's sleep and he'd see me later, and I walked away feeling both relieved and disappointed and disliking myself for both emotions.

As I walked up to our place, I couldn't help taking a look at the blank back windows of Daniel's house as I passed by. Nothing stirred there. What if Mick had been right, and Daniel had been on his way back home when we'd glimpsed him near the square? I could go round the front and knock on the door and see.

Taking a deep breath, I did just that. At least, I went round to the front. There was still a police car there, though no police to be seen on the door, which was closed. My heart pounding, I went up to the door. I stood on the step. I raised the knocker ... and put it down again, carefully. Wait. What if he was there and he opened the door and told me he hated me and never wanted to see me again? No, I couldn't bear that. I put my ear to the door and listened. No sound. I hesitated. He was probably not back, anyway, or not going to come back here at all. Only the policeman would be there, and he'd tell me off for hanging around. No. I couldn't do it. Not now. I had to have a bit of time. I had to think.

I turned slowly away and walked off, down the hill, cursing myself for being a coward and an idiot and all sorts of other things. I didn't notice the man hurrying up the hill in the opposite direction and so ran straight into him.

‘Sorry, I'm sorry,' I babbled as he glared at me. He was a big, broad sort of guy, but very smart, with shining, well-cut salt-and-pepper hair and snazzy sunglasses. He was dressed in a designer suit and smelled of some nice aftershave. Very French. And I'd spoken to him in English, like a fool. ‘Pardon, monsieur,' I stammered.

‘Hmm,' was all he said rudely, and he strode off without another look at me.

Freddy and Claire were in the kitchen, having a glass of wine. By the calm way in which they greeted me and the lack of questions, I realised pretty quickly that they had no idea what had happened. As I'd thought, Freddy had spent her whole day writing and had in fact only knocked off half an hour ago.

Claire had been out all day with Marc, not at the shoot, but in the mountains, exploring things, having lunch in some little restaurant, and generally getting away from everything. ‘We just went on an impulse. We even left the phones behind,' said Claire, ‘and it was just glorious. It was so peaceful up there and there were millions of flowers and some snow still on the tops. You should see the rivers, too, they're just gorgeous, and we had such a nice meal. It was just the best day.'

Freddy had had a good day too, writing what she called a good meaty chapter, about Salome, using all that was known about her to build up a picture of a ‘living, breathing girl', as she put it. ‘That's what I really aim for,' she said, ‘to make readers feel these people aren't just like these Biblical myths, but real as you or me. I started off with her at their house in Lugdunum, looking in the mirror – a bronze mirror of course it would've been in those days – and thinking back to the past. Revenge and betrayal and the defence of family honour filled her world, but those things still exist. Even in Western countries. We might not be allowed to take justice into our own hands, we're supposed to wait for the law, and most people abide by that. But some don't. They deal with betrayal and exact their revenge and defend their family honour in their own way, outside the law, just as in Salome's time.'