I was pretty sure we must be in the Tijuca forest, a swath of Atlantic rain-forest to the west of Rio. It couldn’t be that big. I must hit a settlement at some point. Mustn’t I?
After about half an hour, I came to a gully. It was strewn with huge looming boulders, through which ran a stream. The rocks were the product of some earlier flood. No wonder there were powerful floods with rains like those I had witnessed the evening before. That was just what I needed now, a flash flood.
I decided to leave the path and follow the stream downhill, on the basis that I would avoid a reception party waiting for me at the end of the path. It was tricky picking my way through the rocks in the dark, and I made slow progress.
Just as the sky began to lighten, I saw a bridge below me. I paused for breath beside one of the giant boulders. Perhaps they were waiting by the bridge? If I joined the road, would the kidnappers find me? I didn’t know. I decided not to follow any roads. I would carry on under the bridge, and down the stream bed until I found some habitation.
I was getting tired. My legs were scratched and bruised, and my muscles ached. I stopped for a rest on a stone. Dawn comes quickly to Brazil, and the landscape around me was fast revealed in the grey morning light. I was surrounded by forest and steep hills, rising behind me into clouds. The night-time noises had died down, and it was oddly silent. It was eerie, this damp gloomy forest, clad in moisture. Ahead, down below, I could see nothing but grey. As I rested, I began to feel cold.
Then down to the right, I noticed wisps of a lighter shade of grey. Smoke!
I stood up, and stumbled down the stream bed. The smoke came from quite a substantial building, which backed on to the stream. I clambered up a path from the stream to the building, my muscles aching. I could barely make it to the top of the bank.
I staggered round to the front of the building. It was some kind of restaurant. I pushed a bell and waited.
18
The owner of the restaurant spoke English, and insisted on giving me some food before driving me himself back to the hotel. It took two hours, most of it through the Rio rush-hour traffic. He had no problem agreeing to my request not to tell the police. I wanted to talk to Luís first. The Brazilian police were an entirely unknown quantity. I was worried that I might be putting Isabel’s life at risk by contacting them.
Eyebrows were politely raised as I swept through the hotel lobby in my dishevelled state and went straight up to my room. I found Banco Horizonte’s number, dialled it, and asked for Senhor Luís Pereira.
‘Yes, Nick, what can I do for you?’ The deep voice was friendly but tinged with a mild curiosity as to why I should be telephoning him that morning.
‘Isabel’s been kidnapped.’
There was silence.
‘Where are you?’ he said eventually, his voice still outwardly calm.
‘At the Copacabana Palace Hotel.’
‘Can you go directly to my apartment? I’ll meet you there in half an hour.’
I showered quickly, changed into some clean clothes, and arrived at Luís’s apartment thirty-five minutes later. He was already there, pacing up and down the large living room. He gestured for me to sit down in a low cane sofa, while he took the chair opposite. He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on me. He seemed cool, businesslike.
‘Tell me what happened?’
I told him all about the kidnapping, our escape, and Isabel’s recapture.
When I had finished, Luís sighed. ‘Kidnapping is a fact of life in Rio. I had expected it to happen some time, but frankly I assumed either myself or Cordelia might be the victim. I thought Isabel would be safe.’
He paused for a moment, his eyes looking into the distance over my shoulder. Then he focused back on me. ‘There’s a man called Nelson Zarur who has advised me about these matters, taking precautions and so on. He’s a security consultant. He helped a friend of mine’s family when he was kidnapped. I’ll give him a call.’
‘Shall I wait here?’ I asked.
Luís smiled. ‘I’d like you to, if you can. We will have to talk to Dekker Ward about this. And I’ll have to tell Cordelia.’ His expression clouded. ‘It will be good to have a friend of Isabel’s here.’
Luís probably didn’t know how good a friend. I was glad of the opportunity to stay.
Luís made some phone calls. I couldn’t understand what was said. Most were calm and controlled. One involved lots of listening with a pained expression on his face — Cordelia. Then he left the room. A few moments later I heard a loud keening — Maria.
It was hard to sit there, doing nothing, watching while Luís calmly put things in motion. I felt shaken, physically and mentally. My muscles were tired and ached, and the bruises and scratches I had picked up on the hillside were making themselves known. Details of the kidnap came flooding back, and of Isabel’s reckless attempt to escape. If the gunman hadn’t hesitated she could well have been shot. Or perhaps she had calculated that they wouldn’t shoot a kidnap victim unless they absolutely had to.
And then the moment when I had left her, tangled up in the bush. She had wanted me to go, but I still felt I should be with her now, wherever she was.
How were they treating her? Had they hurt her? Punished her for escaping?
And then the most important question of all. Would we get her back alive and unharmed?
Luís finished and gestured to the phone. ‘Why don’t you get in touch with Dekker?’
Relieved to be doing something, I dialled Ricardo’s number in London.
‘Dekker.’
‘Ricardo. It’s Nick.’
‘What’s up?’ There was concern in Ricardo’s voice. He could pick up the concern in mine.
‘Isabel’s been kidnapped.’
‘How?’
I told him.
Ricardo took it coolly, like a big trade going wrong. ‘OK, Nick. Now don’t worry. Kidnapping’s a local pastime in Rio. It nearly always ends in a ransom being paid and the victim being set free.’
A thought suddenly struck me. I knew how ruthless Ricardo could be. Surely even he couldn’t...
He answered my unspoken question. ‘Don’t worry. If they ask us for a ransom, we’ll pay. All Dekker employees are insured against kidnap at Lloyds.’
‘I didn’t know you could do that.’
‘Well, you can, and we have. We’ve never had to use it before. But there’s a procedure. As soon as we hear of the demand, then we’ll get a negotiator on the case. But since it’s Isabel, they’re more likely to go to her father.’
‘I’ve told him. I’m at his apartment now.’
‘Good. How’s he taking it? Does he know what to do?’
‘He seems to have thought all this through beforehand. He’s got hold of some kind of security consultant.’
‘Excellent. Now, can you stay in Rio until things become clearer?’
‘I’d be happy to.’
‘OK. Keep me informed.’
I was comforted as I put down the phone. Both Ricardo and Luís were taking the situation calmly. I began to hope that Isabel’s life was safe in their hands. Knowing that this was a common event made me feel better. If we just stuck to the rules, and so did the kidnappers, then Isabel should go free. Eventually. After being kept locked up in some hole somewhere for God knows how long. And I wasn’t quite happy with the idea of Ricardo using his tough negotiating tactics for Isabel’s life.
I tried to calm myself down too, to be useful. It was difficult. The tide of worry threatened to overwhelm me. Would she be hurt? Would they let her go? Would they treat her well? Why hadn’t I stayed with her?
Nelson Zarur was at the apartment within half an hour. He was an odd-looking man, short with a round orange face and bulging eyes. He wore a bright green short-sleeved shirt and tan trousers. Luís had mentioned he was a retired policeman, although he didn’t look much over forty-five.