58.

‘Gare Centrale’ turned out to be pretty close to the Congo riverfront, and the apartment was in a boring-looking five-storey block with a balcony that looked out over the water. We walked past the building once, eyes peeled, but nothing on the street seemed out of place. A Volkswagen with a one wing mirror dangling from its broken bracket drifted by, but a tatty car didn’t seem to have anything to do with us. We took the external staircase up to the third floor and knocked on the door, which opened a crack to reveal Xander’s face. I could have hugged him, I was that pleased to see him, but made do with a fist bump.

He showed us around, a natural on his crutches now. There was a tiny kitchen diner with a spindly modern table and chairs, a main room not much larger leading out onto the balcony, which I was pleased to see gave a view of the street as well as the river, and a couple of bedrooms with identical Christmas-themed duvets. Whatever. With the main door safely locked, I cut to the chase.

‘Let’s see the footage then.’

‘I was hoping it might show a licence plate on the motorbike or something,’ Xander said, pulling out his phone, ‘but there’s really nothing to see.’

The original CCTV recording was in black and white, and the fact Xander had filmed it on his phone made the quality ropier still. He was right, of course – the man who delivered the ransom note had parked out of shot and kept his motorbike helmet on with the visor down right the way through the argument with the concierge. He wasn’t wearing anything unusual, no logo or badge, and I watched the short clip with a sinking heart, right up until the point when the guy was escorted out by security. Something snagged then for me. It was the way the guy walked. He was bow-legged. I’d seen that bandy gait before, recently. It took a second for the penny to drop, but once it did I was certain I knew who it was. Certain and dumbstruck.

‘Langdon’s driver,’ I said under my breath. ‘But it can’t be.’

‘Why not?’ asked Amelia.

Caleb: ‘You said on the phone that he stood to gain from having your folks out of the way.’

‘But kidnapping his own brother? It makes no sense. Not even he –’

‘Actually it makes very good sense,’ stated Amelia. ‘Particularly of the ransom. He made a big show of not wanting to pay off the kidnappers, because that’s what you’re supposed to say, and then he caved, which was weird, unless you’re right and that guy is Langdon’s driver, because if that’s the case he would literally have been paying off himself.’

I watched that clip many times, the thoughts crowding my head ironically making it hard to think straight. Dad would surely have recognised Langdon and told him to take a hike. Except of course Langdon would have paid someone else to do the actual kidnapping. He’d never let anyone hurt Mum or Dad though, which was good. Or – seeing how he’d treated Caleb – would he? If I got to the bottom of this, and it turned out to be true, the news would break Dad from Langdon forever. Did that matter? It wasn’t as if they were that close anyway. At least I had a lead. And yes, Langdon had a motive, to stop Mum and Dad visiting his crooked mining operation and prevent them giving evidence in the environmental debate. The ransom note was presumably a stunt designed to throw me – and anyone else who cared to look – off the scent. The way Langdon hadn’t wanted us to involve the police at first now made a lot more sense.

‘When does the summit thing end and the Article 16 decision take place again?’ I asked.

‘It’s Article 16B, and they’re voting tomorrow, at 3 p.m.,’ said Amelia. ‘The vote takes place in the National Assembly. That’s the lower house, or legislature. It’s situated in the People’s Palace, off Boulevard Triomphal. ‘

Xander blew out his cheeks and looked my way, his eyes asking, How does she know this stuff?!

Amelia raised her phone: ‘You have heard of the Internet?’

‘Yeah, but remembering the detail …’

‘It’s the detail that’s interesting.’ Amelia shrugged. ‘Also, the deadline’s kind of important. The summit wraps up in the morning. Janine and Nicholas need to present their evidence there at least three hours ahead of the vote if it’s to influence the debate.’

‘Midday tomorrow …’ I murmured.

‘Yeah.’

‘We’ve got to find them before then.’

Even as I stated this simple aim, the impossibility of achieving it overwhelmed me. I was exhausted, wanted nothing more than to slide beneath one of those stupid Christmas duvets, pull it over my head and give up. But there was no time to waste thinking like that. Langdon’s driver was the lead, despite his motorcycle helmet. Two could play at that game, I thought.