Bright Angel (18 page)

Steve, I think. Who's Steve? His accomplice, obviously. A Radic connection of some sort, presumably – a friend, an associate? I have no idea. In any case, it's a hint as to how he was able to pull off the kidnaps so smoothly. They had been two-man jobs.

‘But Mr Radic,' I try again, ‘Daniel and Gabriel are innocent. They know nothing about their uncle's crimes.'

‘They're his kin,' he says, without expression. ‘Bait to trap the wolf. That's what they're worth to me. Blood for blood.'

My head swims. ‘Oh God, you're not. Please, God, you're not–' I am seized with such terror and love for my darling Daniel, and sweet little Gabriel, that I think I'm going to faint with the strength of it. I throw myself at his feet, clutch his knees. ‘Please, Mr Radic, I beg you, don't kill them. Don't kill them! Do anything to me, but don't hurt them!'

‘Get up, girl,' he snaps. There is a strange mixture of emotions on his face. Disgust, I think – anger – contempt – but maybe, just maybe a little – a little pity? My voice breaks with the tears I don't even try to stop. ‘Mr Radic, you loved your nephew. How can destroying two innocents bring him back or be a fitting memorial to him? How could that be worthy of his memory? Please, Mr Radic, please–'

There is a long silence. Then he says, ‘I haven't hurt those boys. And I have no intention of killing them. I want Udo, not them. But he would never come and face me of his own will. He is a coward hiding behind his respectable facade and his lawyers. Only by striking at his kin could I force him to come and face me and make him accountable for what he's done. All I want from them is to persuade him to come to me. I've spoken to the older boy. He knows what I want. He doesn't want to talk to his uncle. I respect that – I understand honour – but time is of the essence, and I cannot afford to be sentimental. They will have to persuade their wicked uncle to make a move, or I will lose my patience. Once Udo's here, once I have what I want from him, they can go to Timbuktu for all I care.'

I didn't want to ask what he wanted from Udo. I feared asking, and I feared the answer. But worrying about what might happen to Benedict Udo at the hands of this fanatic wasn't something I had any time to consider. All I could think about was what if Udo didn't come, and Daniel and Gabriel were still at the mercy of this man. What would happen then? I could have no illusions. This was the same man – or his accomplice – who had savagely beaten poor Pilar and done God knew what to Mick – this was the same merciless avenger who thought nothing of terrifying a little boy like Gabriel and snatching Daniel for no other reason than he was ‘bait'. This was not a man you could trust. He operated by his own rules, ruthless, cruel and primitive. You couldn't trust him, and it was difficult to outwit him. But if we stayed at his mercy, there was no guarantee of anything at all. I couldn't be sure he would not hurt the boys, or even not kill them, if it suited his purpose, if it was the only way to make Udo do what he wanted.

I say, gently, ‘Mr Radic, will you let me see Daniel and Gabriel? Will you let me talk to them? Perhaps I can persuade them to speak to their uncle – to make him really understand that you are serious about it but that they have nothing to fear. I am their friend. Perhaps if I speak to them, it might help.'

He looks at me and gives a small laugh. ‘Ready to play Judas, is that it? Your friends might not thank you for it, Sylvie Mandon.'

‘Please just let me try,' I say, through the roaring in my ears and the nausea in my throat.

He shrugs. ‘Why not?' he says and, holding me in a tight grip, he marches me towards the door.

Outside the cellar, it's a warren of dark passageways and closed doors. I'm trying to get my bearings, trying to work out in my head a sense of the layout of where we are. We're underground, that's for sure. There's no light in the passageway, and it's only lit by Radic's Tilley lamp. I stumble after him, trying to work out just what sort of a place this might be. It's surely bigger than what would be under a normal house, though maybe it's just a big farmhouse, something like that. And so far I can't see any stairs or anything that might lead to whatever's up above. The stone walls are dampish, the whole place has a musty sort of feel, as though it's been shut in on itself for a while. How would Radic have found this place? I knew nothing about his background or how he'd come to France, but wouldn't you need at least to have scouted ahead? Was he renting it? Did he, or maybe his accomplice, even own it? Or had he found it by chance and broken in? It couldn't be altogether abandoned, because there was all that wine in the cellar – you wouldn't just leave it like that. But it must be out of the way, isolated. And not inhabited by anyone else, right now.

He's unlocking a door. He stands to one side, to let me through. Inside, there's a small room, with nothing but a chair, a table and a stretcher bed. A pile of clothes in a bag next to it. His, I think. Beyond the room is another door, also locked. He opens it, stands by silently to let me through.

This room's bigger. Two stretcher beds. A table with a jug of water and two glasses. A bowl of fruit. A barred window, high above. It's open. There's air coming through. To one side, a door, ajar on what looks like a tiny bathroom. I only notice these things mechanically, my brain computing uselessly, because all my attention is on the two figures on one of the beds, the little one sleeping in the shelter of his brother's arms.

‘Daniel,' I whisper. ‘Gabriel.' I take a step towards them, but Radic stops me.

‘Your friend is just here to persuade you.' His voice is cool, measured. ‘She's sensible. You'd do well to listen to her.'

Daniel's arm tightens around Gabriel. My heart constricts. There's a small bruise on Daniel's cheek, but otherwise he seems quite unharmed. His beautiful eyes look at me without a trace of emotion. Then his glance flicks back to Radic.

‘You are wasting your time,' he says. Not another glance at me, not a sign of love, of relief, of anything. The back of my throat is thick, ice is gripping my spine. I don't understand. Why is he looking at me like that? Surely he can't still be angry with me over Mick?

‘Please, Daniel,' I say, trying to stop my voice from breaking. ‘Please, you must listen to me. I only want to get you and Gabriel out of here. Safe. You only need to contact your uncle. That's all.'

Daniel doesn't look at me. He says to Radic, ‘You've made a serious error if you think bringing this girl here will change anything.'

‘Nevertheless,' says Radic coolly, with a trace of amusement, ‘she is here to try.'

I feel sick. The cold, hard way in which Daniel had said
this girl
hits me like a punch in the stomach. I say, ‘Please, Mr Radic, will you leave us alone for a moment?'

He glances at me, raises his eyebrows. ‘Need a bit of lovers' talk to persuade him, do we? Okay then. Just a little while, mind. And don't try anything stupid. I'll just be in the next room.'

I nod, dumbly. He leaves the room, but I feel his presence in the room beyond me, the door ajar. I whisper, ‘Daniel, please, you don't understand–'

‘Oh, I understand all right,' he says and now he is looking at me and his eyes are no longer expressionless but filled with contempt. ‘You're here to soften me up – to trick me into trapping my uncle – luring him to his death. I should have known meeting you was no chance. It was planned all along.'

The roaring's in my ears again. I feel numb, so cold I can barely force my lips open to speak. I whisper, ‘How can you say that, Daniel? You know it isn't true.' I try to say more but I can't, I'm so choked. And at that moment Gabriel wakes up. There are tear-streaks on his face, it looks puffy, his eyes swollen. It wrings my heart with a mixture of tenderness for him and rage against Radic. I say, ‘Oh, Gabriel.'

He looks at me. And something astonishing happens. A smile of extraordinary sweetness and intensity lights up his whole face. He is looking at me and yet beyond me too, if you know what I mean. ‘Oh,' he whispers, ‘I'm so happy to see you. Have you come to get us out?'

‘Yes,' I say. ‘Oh, yes, Gabriel, darling.' I'm crying now, I can't help it.

Daniel says harshly, ‘Leave him alone. Stop with the tears, too. Do you think I'm fooled? You should be ashamed of yourself, playing on his innocence.'

The words hit me hard but the rage that had risen in me at the sight of Gabriel's frightened face gives me a courage I didn't know I had. ‘You're determined not to see the truth,' I snap, ‘but Gabriel, who's much younger than you, knows it. I am your friend, not your enemy, and if you could only get off your high horse for one instant, if you could forget your selfish stupidity and pride for one second, you'd know that for a fact. For God's sake, Daniel, we're in this together. It's the only way we can all get out. Do you think I came here of my own free will?' I pull aside the hair on the back of my head. ‘If you want to feel the bruise I got when he knocked me out and brought me here, you're welcome! And if you're still sore about seeing me with Mick, that was just a misunderstanding. He's just a friend. He's just been helping me try to find you and Gabriel. He put his own life at risk – I think Radic has ... has hurt him. Anyway, why the hell would you think I was in Radic's plot? What sort of mad reason would I have for that? I had no idea of your existence till I met you – I had no idea about who your uncle really was – I had no idea of anything like that – but I love you, Daniel, you stupid, stubborn, selfish, irritating person! And I love Gabriel dearly, too. I'd do anything – anything – to see you both safe. Don't you understand that?'

I stand there, trembling with a wild cocktail of emotions, wanting to throw up, to flee, to collapse in a heap, to slap Daniel till his head rang or to grab Gabriel and hug him tight.

The little boy's eyes are wide, he is trembling a little too. When Daniel still doesn't speak, I say quietly, ‘Well, I suppose it's all no use. You think the worst of me and that's it. And I'm only scaring Gabriel now and I can't bear that so–' I look at the little boy. Through the lump in my throat, I say, ‘I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to frighten you. I didn't mean to shout like that. I'm so sorry.'

Then he's wriggled out of Daniel's arms and he's come straight to me and thrown his arms around me. I hug him tight, feeling the fragility of his child's body and the tears fall again unchecked. But Gabriel doesn't cry. Gabriel just hugs me without words, and it comforts me beyond what any words might have done. Then he takes my hand and leads me to Daniel. He takes one of Daniel's hands. He looks at his brother and says, very seriously, ‘Danny, please listen to Sylvie. Please.'

Daniel's eyes meet mine, then he looks away. He speaks. ‘I-I don't know, I thought...' His voice is no longer hard, cold, certain of itself. There's a sad bewilderment, a sorrowful confusion that tugs at my heart. ‘Nothing made any sense – but when I saw you in the clearing it looked like you and Mick ... and then when Gabriel was taken, I thought of your call.'

‘My call?' I say, sharply.

He turns his head and looks at me. ‘You called me on the mobile the night before, saying we should meet at the clearing because you'd be late. You sounded strange, but I thought–'

‘I never rang you,' I say. ‘It was
you
who was going to be late – you called Mick about it.'

‘No, I didn't,' he says.

‘But someone called Daniel rang up and told him. I don't understand...' And then, suddenly, I remember. My mobile. I'd missed it that morning. It had not been on the bedside table, where I'd left it the night before. It had Daniel's number in Contacts. And Mick's. I remember too what Mick had said, about criminals hacking into mobile phones.

‘Radic – he must have hacked into my phone,' I say. I explain quickly. ‘What's more, Mick wouldn't know your voice,' I go on. ‘He'd just take it on trust that if the guy called himself Daniel, he was you. After all, if they'd called you and pretended to be me...'

‘I thought your voice sounded odd. Nasal, like you had a cold or something,' Daniel says. ‘But I didn't get a chance to say much. You rang off pretty quickly.'

‘It wasn't me.'

‘No. Well I was upset after that scene in the clearing, and I just went off – didn't go home at once but just rode around in the forest – and when I got back at last – and I learned that Gabriel – well, then after I started thinking maybe it was all a pretext – a set-up. I began to think about all sorts of mad things, to make crazy connections – I said nothing to the police because I still didn't want to believe it of you, but the more I thought of it, the worse it became, and then–' There is a bleakness in his eyes now. ‘Then you turn up here and you say you're here to persuade us to betray our uncle. And you are calling that man by a name – you seem to be almost friendly with him – to know him, at least – so how can I–?'

‘He's not my friend. No way. I never met him before. But we are still connected, in a strange and horrible way,' I say wearily. ‘Because of something that happened back home. I never told you the real reason why we were in France, Claire and I, did I, Daniel? I didn't want to think about it, you see. Didn't want to bring it all back, to spoil things.' And quietly, quickly, I tell him about Thomas Radic in Wedding Heaven, and about the cruel scam that had eventually led to his suicide, taking care to say it in such a way that it wouldn't frighten Gabriel. As I speak, I can see Daniel's face crumple. When I finish, he puts his head in his hands. ‘Oh God, Sylvie. What have I done?'

‘You haven't done anything,' I say gently. ‘You're not guilty of anything, Daniel. It's not your fault, and I can understand why you might think that I–' I break off, unable to continue. He raises his head and looks wildly at me and says, ‘No, it was wrong. It was so wrong. You were right. I'm hopeless. Selfish. Useless. Bad for you.'

‘Sshh,' I say. ‘Sshh.' And then I'm sitting beside him, and Gabriel's on his other side, and we're holding each other tight, and for the first time I see Daniel crying. He's crying in that hard, painful way that men do, the sobs tearing out of him.

After a little while, he says, ‘I don't deserve you,' and I say, with a tremble that's between laughter and tears, ‘That's silly, Daniel Aubrac, and you know it.' I snuggle in closer to him. ‘I love you and you're not going to get rid of me that easily.'

He hugs me. ‘I love you too and I should have known to trust you. But I've lost the habit of trust. Please forgive me.'

‘Oh, I do,' I say, and the pain and the fear and the grief rush out of me, leaving a breathless joy. ‘Oh I do, Daniel.'

He gives a funny little laugh, and tilts my face up and kisses me, briefly, lightly, gently, and my heart races with excitement and love. Gabriel laughs too and says, ‘You're friends now again. I'm so glad, I knew you would be!'

Daniel squeezes his brother and says, cheerfully, ‘You were right, Sylvie, he's so much younger than me but he knows so much more.' We are quiet for an instant, just enjoying the moment. I think how strange and wonderful that there should be so much happiness in this room, that for a while everything that has happened – and our present predicament as prisoners of a fanatical avenger – should fade into the background and we have a respite and all that matters is this beautiful moment of love and understanding.

But then Daniel sighs and says, ‘What are we going to do now, Sylvie? I can't do what he wants – because whatever he's done – whatever he is – I can't lead my uncle into a trap even though I–' He swallows. ‘Gabriel, will you go and get me a glass of water?' He looks at me over the child's head, with meaning. I know he wants to tell me something he doesn't want Gabriel to hear. I nod. ‘Will you get me one too, please, Gabriel?'

Gabriel smiles. ‘Yes,' he says, and trots off unsuspectingly to the table, where he picks up the jug and starts to pour out the water.

Daniel whispers, quickly, ‘You remember St-Just, when you came round the corner and you saw me?'

I nod. ‘You looked worried.'

‘I
was
worried,' he says. ‘Worried to death. But not about what I implied back then. My uncle – I overheard something that made me think he was implicated in really bad things – he caught me listening but he wasn't angry, he just laughed and said I'd have to know soon enough – that it was time anyway that I learned all about the business. He said we'd talk it over properly when we came back from holiday. He said that as my mother's brother and my only adult kin he was concerned for both Gabriel's and my future. Oh, God, Sylvie, I wanted nothing to do with it or him, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I thought of running away with Gabriel, but I knew he'd just go looking for us. I thought of going to the police, but I didn't have enough on him, and anyway, he's poor Maman's only brother, I couldn't denounce him. So I just took the easy course and said weakly that I'd think about it and that we'd talk about it later. Now you see what I've done. If I'd told someone, if I'd spoken up then–'

‘No, no. You can't blame yourself. You've not done anything. It's him. Him that's to blame. Him that got you in this mess with Radic.'

‘But Radic has a point,' he says, hopelessly. ‘I mean, his nephew killed himself because of one of my uncle's criminal scams.'