'You can't think like that, Andrea. You've got to be positive.'
She managed a weak smile. 'We'll get through it. Won't we?'
'If we're strong, we'll get through it. And tonight we both need to be very strong, and very focused.'
She stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and stood up, taking a step towards him. 'Will you hold me?' she asked him. 'Just for a moment?'
She looked so vulnerable that Bolt knew there was no way he could resist, and he went to take her in his arms.
And then stopped, startled by a sound that inspired hope and fear in equal measure.
The ringing of the phone.
Forty
Emma's voice came over the line on loudspeaker. Like the previous day, it was a recording. Unlike the previous day, Bolt's relationship with her had changed, and he experienced a wrenching in his stomach as she spoke, her words nervous and halting.
'Hi Mum, it's me. I'm OK. It's Saturday. I've seen the paper.' A short pause. 'They say that they'll let me go tonight if you give them the money. But you can't involve the police. Please. Otherwise…' Another pause, longer this time.
They were in the study. All five of them. Turner, Marie, Mo, Bolt and Andrea. Turner clicked frantically on his laptop, trying to secure a trace. The others stood silent, waiting. Bolt couldn't look at Andrea, even though he knew she was looking at him. The receiver was shaking in her hand. He caught Mo's eyes and saw sympathy there. He didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he stared at a fixed point high on the ceiling, his jaw set hard.
There was a click at the other end of the phone, and then the familiar disguised voice came on the line.
'Do you have the money yet, Mrs Devern?'
'Yes.' Delivered firmly.
'Good. And have you spoken to the police?'
'No.' Delivered just as firmly.
'We have someone with your daughter. He has instructions to kill her at ten p.m. exactly if he hasn't heard from us, so I would advise you strongly to do the right thing this time.'
Bolt flinched at his words, and for a moment Andrea appeared unsteady on her feet; then she began to speak confidently into the phone.
'I told you, I haven't,' she said. 'I just want to get this thing over with.'
'Good. You have sat-nav in your car, don't you?'
'Yes.'
' Munroe Drive in N7 is a six-minute drive away from you in normal traffic. You've got four minutes to get there or the deal's off. Drive to the end and await my call.'
'But-'
The line went dead. Andrea let the receiver drop to the floor.
'Jesus, where are my keys? I've only got four minutes.'
'Don't panic, Andrea,' Bolt told her sharply. 'He's bluffing. Remember, he wants the money. Just stay calm and get to Munroe Drive as soon as you can.' He looked at Turner. 'Trace?'
' Mobile, north London. That's all I've got. If he's following the same MO as yesterday, he'll have switched the phone off by now.'
But Bolt was no longer listening. Pressing his mobile to his ear, he put a call in to Barry in the control room. 'It's on,' was all he said. Then, as he followed Andrea out of the room, he called the surveillance team leader outside.
'It's clear,' came the reply.
'We're on the move,' Bolt told him.
'Good luck.'
I'm going to need more than that, Bolt thought as he hung up. But for the first time in over twenty-four hours he felt better. He was taking charge of a well-rehearsed operation. The stakes were higher than he'd ever known, but at least it was now up to him.
'The mobile he called on was a different one from yesterday,' said Turner, coming out of the study, 'and it is already switched off. Somewhere in N17, not far from yesterday's.'
'Good work, Matt.'
'I want to come with you.'
Bolt looked at him.
'Please, boss. I don't want to stay here.'
There was no time to argue.
'All right, you can come with me and Mo. '
Bolt grabbed the holdall containing the money, and once Andrea had retrieved her keys from the kitchen, they left the house together. The money was heavy and he struggled to keep up with her as she ran down the street to her car. He pulled open the door and dropped it into the passenger seat as Andrea switched on the engine and hurriedly fed Munroe Drive N7 into her sat-nav. She looked terrified, but focused. He wished her luck but she didn't even glance his way. Instead she leaned over, shut his door and pulled away from the kerb.
One minute had passed.
'I'll drive,' Bolt announced, jumping in the Jag with Mo and Turner.
He shoved in his earpiece, switched on the loop mike he was wearing round his neck, and then they were away, doing a rapid three-point turn in the middle of the street. A middle-aged couple walking arm in arm stopped and watched them curiously. Lucky sods, Bolt thought. Not a care in the world.
There were five surveillance cars and two motorbikes involved in the convoy. As with all surveillance ops, they would switch position constantly so that no one vehicle stood out, just in case the kidnappers had decided to tail Andrea themselves. All communication would now be done by radio, using call signs, so that every person involved could hear what was being said and be able to act accordingly.
Bolt got into position behind a Toyota Auris with Tina Boyd and Kris Obanje inside.
'I think our targets are getting paranoid,' said Mo. ' Munroe Drive 's a dead end.'
'Shit. They're obviously checking for tails. We're going to have to be very, very careful here.'
He turned right out of Andrea's road, pulled over while another of the surveillance cars overtook him, then accelerated, his fingers drumming on the wheel as the tension coursed through him. He looked at his watch.
Two minutes.
They turned again, this time on to the Finchley Road, heading north in the direction of the North Circular. Traffic was steady rather than heavy and one of the surveillance bikes roared past them, disappearing into the distance and tucking in behind Andrea's Mercedes, which was fifty yards ahead and weaving in and out of the lanes, moving fast. The surveillance vehicles would be travelling both behind and in front of her, so she could be kept under the eyeball at all times, but her speed and the erratic nature of her driving were making it difficult for them.
Bolt leaned against the window looking skywards, hoping that Barry was being true to his word and keeping the helicopter back and out of sight. Even in a sprawling city like London, where helicopters are a common sight, it would stick out a mile to the kidnappers. But today the sky was clear.
Three minutes.
Up ahead, the lights went amber. Andrea accelerated through them, just as they went red, the surveillance bike going through just behind her. The two cars in front of Bolt stopped, giving him no choice but to do the same. He cursed, and his finger-tapping on the seat intensified as he counted the seconds in his head as Andrea's car disappeared from sight.
One, two, three… thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… twenty-two, twenty-three…
'Come on, come on,' he hissed.
As the lights turned green again, there was a crackle of static in Bolt's earpiece and a voice came on the line amid a lot of background noise.
'Bike two to all cars, target has just turned into Clearland Road, leading to Munroe Drive. Am taking the next road along, Boothby Avenue. Have lost eyeball.'
Tina's voice broke in. 'Car two to bike two, we're thirty seconds behind. Will turn into Clearland and take the eyeball.'