25

DRIVING SAMANTHA ABBERLEY from the Sil Gorge to Santiago de Compostela had not proved the carefree aftermath to his encounter with Delgado that Derek had anticipated. At first, she had been too confused and disorientated to say much. But a stop for breakfast near Orense had enabled her to order her thoughts and absorb the reality of her new-found freedom. From then on, the questions had flowed. And as Derek’s answers had grown more evasive, so her demands for information had grown more strident.

‘You’re Derek Fairfax, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Helping you.’

‘But why? You’re no friend of mine.’

‘I’m a friend of Charlotte’s.’

‘Charlie? What’s she got to do with this?’

‘She arranged it.’

‘She did? Not my father?’

‘No. Not your father.’

‘But he knows about this, doesn’t he?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean your family will explain everything. I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s for your own good. It was part of the deal we struck with your kidnappers.’

‘Who are they – the people who were holding me?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t. Isn’t it enough to know you’re safe?’

‘No. I want to understand what happened to me. Why I had to go through all that.’

‘And maybe you’ll find out,’ Frank had interrupted. ‘But not from us.’

Frank’s forbidding tone – and the baleful glare accompanying his remark – had subdued Samantha for a while. No doubt she had found him the greatest puzzle of all. She was not to know what Derek knew – that the circumstances of her release had cheated him of his chance to avenge the murder of a friend. How – or if – he had reconciled himself to seeing – but not challenging – Delgado there was no way of telling. His thoughts were hidden behind a well-worn mask.

At last they reached Santiago and eased their way through the Saturday morning traffic to the police station. It was located in a wide stretch of road, the centre of which functioned as a car park. Thus Frank was able to pull up exactly opposite the Policía Nacional building without attracting the least attention.

‘This is as far as we go,’ he baldly announced. ‘You’re on your own now.’

Samantha stared at him incredulously. ‘You’re not coming in with me?’

‘We can’t,’ said Derek. ‘It’s part—’

‘Part of the deal,’ parroted Samantha sarcastically. ‘What do you expect me to tell them?’

‘Say the kidnappers let you go on the outskirts of the city after driving you blindfolded from wherever you’d been held. Say you’ve no idea where that is, who they are or why they decided to release you.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Then it shouldn’t be difficult, should it?’

‘But I’m to say nothing about you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘That’s part of the deal as well?’

‘Yes.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘That man on the bridge – what did you give him? What was the ransom?’

Derek shook his head. There was no point in even trying to answer her question.

‘Something belonging to my father? Something they wanted him to give up?’

‘In a sense.’

‘In what sense?’

‘Sam, I—’

‘Don’t call me Sam!’ She was angry now and close to tears. ‘My friends call me Sam. And you’re not a friend.’

‘I’m sorry. Look—’

‘I’ll find out what it’s all about. I’ll say the right things to the police and the consul and Christ knows who else, but I’ll still find out. My father will tell me.’

Her trust in Maurice Abberley moved Derek to the brink of an unwise disclosure. ‘About your father, Samantha. Perhaps I ought—’

‘Miss Abberley,’ Frank cut in, ‘we’ve risked our lives to rescue you. We’ve made sacrifices you can’t possibly comprehend. Set against them, the lies we’re asking you to tell are trivial – and lily-white. So, why not stop feeling sorry for yourself, walk into that building and ask them to call the British Embassy?’

His words were harsher than Samantha deserved. But their effect was salutary. The edge of hysteria in her voice vanished. ‘All right,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘I am … grateful, you know. It’s just—’

‘We understand,’ said Derek.

‘And remember,’ said Frank. ‘You’re free.’

‘Yes.’ Her face was suddenly lit up by a smile. ‘I am, aren’t I?’ She rubbed her eyes and sighed, then announced: ‘I think I’m ready to go now.’

‘Good.’ Derek opened the door and climbed out to let her pass. The policeman standing on the station steps was picking his teeth, oblivious to the significance of what was about to happen. Yet still Derek was eager to have done and be gone.

‘Thank you, Mr Fairfax,’ said Samantha. ‘I’ll thank you again when I know what you really did.’ She started walking towards the police station and Derek climbed back into the Land Rover.

‘Poor kid,’ he murmured. ‘None of this was her fault. When she finds out about her father—’

‘But you’re no friend of hers,’ growled Frank. ‘She said so herself. Save your concern for those who are – or were.’

Derek knew at once who he was referring to. But, in a perverse attempt to exorcise the ghosts still clustering around them, he asked: ‘Who do you mean, Frank?’

Ahead of them, the policeman stopped picking his teeth and held the station door open for Samantha, who vanished inside without a backward glance. Frank started the engine. He offered no answer to Derek’s question, unless it was the remark he made as they pulled out into the traffic and headed away from the centre of the city. ‘It’s time you told me what Delgado said, boy. I want to hear every word.’