‘You OK?’
It took me a moment to focus on Parker’s voice. I swivelled in the passenger seat and realised we were driving through Queens, the chic elegance of Long Island far behind us in favour of cheap high-density housing. I’d never quite got over how much wiring seemed to be on view in American cities, the buildings festooned with it as though wearing their blood vessels on the outside of their bodies.
‘Yeah, I’m OK,’ I said, leaning back against the headrest. Ahead of us, a passenger jet was pulling out of LaGuardia and lumbering doggedly skywards. I could sympathise.
I was tired, I recognised. The kind of bone-deep utter weariness that long-term stress produces. But I kept on going through the motions, treading water, marking time.
Waiting.
We were in one of the Lincoln Navigators Parker favoured as general runabouts, heading back towards Manhattan where Armstrong-Meyer had its prestigious offices. I wondered briefly how long Parker would keep the ‘Meyer’ part of the name intact, without the man himself to back it up.
From behind the wheel, my boss flicked me a brief speaking glance. His eyes were hidden behind Ray-Bans, but I didn’t need to see them.
‘If you’re not sure about this job, tell me now and I’ll assign someone else.’ To his credit, there was nothing to react to in his matter-of-fact voice. Sympathy was the last thing I could cope with.
I lifted my head. ‘I thought you didn’t have anyone who fitted the bill.’ That was how he’d persuaded me to go out to the Willners’ in the first place. Not that persuaded was quite the right word, but neither was bullied. Cajoled – that was more like it.
Anything to take my mind off Sean Meyer.
‘I don’t,’ he agreed candidly. ‘Mrs Willner specifically requested a female close-protection officer, one who was young enough to get on with her daughter. Apparently Dina developed a crush on one of the house security guys last fall, and she doesn’t want a repeat performance.’
I raised an eyebrow at that. The guy who’d answered the door to us this morning was obviously more than just an ordinary flunkey, and when Caroline Willner had suggested I go down to the beach to wait for her daughter’s return, I’d seen at least two other bulky members of staff who had the unmistakable carriage of ex-military men. No doubt they had their share of war stories, calculated to impress someone as impressionable as Dina. Had I ever been that young at twenty?
‘What about Gomez?’ I said. ‘She’s closer to the daughter’s age than I am. OK, she lacks a little experience, but her instincts are sound.’
‘I need her for Paraguay.’ He smiled faintly. ‘You could trade with her if you like, but I kinda assumed you’d want to stay close to New York for a while.’
I dredged up a smile of my own. ‘Yes … thank you.’
It didn’t matter that I knew I could be back from just about anywhere in the world in less than twenty-four hours. A lot could happen in a day. Or, nothing could happen at all. Not for one day, not for a hundred days. Three months, one week, four days of suspended animation.
Parker sighed. ‘It’s OK, Charlie,’ he said gently. ‘If I was in your position, I’d want to stay close, too. I just thought … you need to work. At least the farthest this kid is likely to travel is up and down the east coast, from one party to the next.’
I swallowed and stared sightlessly at the scenery flashing past beyond the tinted glass, feeling disconnected as a ghost from the lives outside. I’d stopped trying to tell myself that it could all be so much worse, because deep down I knew that wasn’t true anymore. Concentrating on a job – any job – had to be better than the wretched loneliness of my own thoughts. For a while this morning, out at the Willners’ place, I’d felt almost … normal.
And the prospect of a temporary change of scene, of living in, somewhere that wasn’t silent and filled with empty spaces, had definite appeal. At this point, I might even class it as essential.
I took a breath, made a conscious effort to divert my brain into more productive tracks. ‘What’s your take on this birthday bash Dina’s so set on?’
His hands relaxed very slightly on the wheel. ‘Could be she just wants to show off the pretty new toy her mommy bought for her.’
My lips twisted. ‘Ah, that would be me, then – this season’s must-have accessory.’
‘Yeah, something like that.’ He flicked me another glance as he changed lanes around a slow-moving bus. ‘Whatever her reasons, you can’t fault the logic of her argument.’
‘In favour of going, you mean?’
He nodded. ‘Without any official reports, we’re working blind. Anything you can learn about what happened to the other victims might make the difference to Dina being taken or not.’
I fell silent. Since I’d joined Parker’s outfit I’d worked family protection details numerous times. Usually in places like Mexico or Columbia, where prevention was always better than the alternative. There, it was a toss-up whether the hostage would be returned alive, even if the ransom was paid. And if it wasn’t, well, less than a quarter of hostages in Latin America survived rescue attempts, and only a tiny fraction of kidnappers were ever caught. If the ransom was large enough, a whole rake of people could be included in the pay-off, including local police officials.
But this was not some dusty South American backwater. The parents must have known the odds of detection and capture were far better here, that by keeping silent they had, in effect, given the kidnappers a licence to continue their deadly game. So, what were they so afraid of, that it was worth risking their children’s lives?
‘Is it coincidence, I wonder, that all three families paid up without going to the cops?’
‘Might be, but I kinda doubt it,’ Parker said. ‘Which means they were targeted very carefully. Somebody knew they had the available cash and the inclination to pay up clean and fast.’
‘An inside job, you mean?’ I murmured. ‘And if they all had the kind of general security Caroline Willner employs, you’d need pros to make the snatch in the first place. Disgruntled ex-employees perhaps?’
‘Maybe. I’ll check it out. Finding a common link between the victims is our best lead to tracking down a multiple kidnapper.’
I gave him a long level stare while he pretended to be absorbed in negotiating traffic. ‘Either I’m supposed to be protecting Dina or playing detective,’ I said mildly. ‘Which is it, Parker?’
‘The two objectives are not mutually exclusive.’ He allowed himself a fractional smile. ‘You may think you hide it well, but lack of exercise is sending you as stir-crazy as that horse of Dina’s.’
I paused a beat, then said, ‘Even if I do go with her to this regatta thing she mentioned, I’ve no authority to question these other kids. They may still be traumatised, not want to talk about what they’ve been through.’
Every kidnap victim reacted differently, but all too often there was guilt at the sacrifices made by the family, resentment at their own helplessness, and an overwhelming general sense of fear at going out and doing normal things again. Feelings that could last for weeks or even years after the event. Some former hostages never fully recovered.
‘Sure,’ Parker said, and there was satisfaction in his dry tone. He had me hooked, and he knew it. ‘And that’s why they’re all turning out for a birthday party aboard a million-dollar yacht, huh?’
I opened my mouth and shut it again, acknowledging defeat. ‘Good point. Well made.’
‘I thought so.’ He smiled out loud then, creasing the corners of his eyes and taking years off his face, and added casually, ‘Mrs Willner wants you on duty first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I had nothing else planned.’
‘You were organising logistics for Paraguay … ?’
‘All in hand. I emailed my report to Bill Rendelson before we left this morning.’
‘That was fast work.’
‘Ah well, I try constantly to disappoint Bill with my unexpected efficiency.’ It was better than admitting I didn’t sleep much these days, either.
Parker sighed. ‘You don’t have anything to prove, Charlie,’ he said quietly. ‘If anyone ever thought you were just along for the ride, they kinda revised that opinion a long time ago.’
‘Even Bill?’
‘Even Bill,’ he agreed gravely.
Bill Rendelson ran Parker’s office with an iron fist inside an equally iron glove. Invalided out of active duty after the loss of his arm, his only pleasure now, it seemed, was in dissatisfaction with the rest of the staff – and me in particular. I’d only seen one brief flash of humanity from him, gone so fast it might have been a trick of the light, never to be repeated since.
But if I’d been about to comment, it was cut short by Parker’s cellphone ringing from its hands-free cradle on the dashboard. He had, of course, switched it off while we were at the Willners’ and the calls began to pile in now.
He talked on the phone almost constantly for the remainder of the journey onto Manhattan Island, swapping easily from one subject to another, going over itineraries without pause for thought or recollection, smooth, unflustered and professional. An ideal boss.
He’d proved an ideal friend, too, over the past three months, when the shock and pain and all-consuming sense of loss had sometimes threatened to overwhelm me. Sean was, as Parker had once pointed out, my soulmate.
I expected Parker to go directly to the office in midtown, but to my surprise he continued north, eventually pulling up outside the front entrance of my apartment building on the Upper East Side.
Strictly speaking, the building was Parker’s – or some wealthy relative of his at any rate. It was in a prime location and should have been financially way out of reach, but the heavily subsidised rent had been another of the incentives that lured Sean and me to New York in the first place.
As I reached for the door handle, Parker put his hand up suddenly and I stayed put, waiting for him to tie up the last call. The Navigator sat idling by the kerb, sporadic traffic passed, the sun came and went behind high cloud. An elderly lady, wearing a huge amount of make-up and swaddled in furs, tottered by dragging a small shivering hairless dog by its diamanté-studded collar and lead. She was a regular fixture of the neighbourhood and I’d never seen her without the fur – or the dog with any – even in the height of summer. Life with all its oddities, staying the same and moving on.
After no more than a minute or so, Parker hit the End button and removed his sunglasses.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘Look, Charlie, I want you to keep in close contact on this one. If you need help, call me – day or night – OK?’
‘O … K,’ I said slowly. ‘What are you not telling me?’
He shrugged. ‘You know as much as I do.’
‘So why the fuss?’
‘I’m worried about how you’re holding up, that’s all,’ he said at last. He put his hand on my arm, lightly, saw my surprise and lifted it away again. ‘You’re looking tired, Charlie. You should get some rest.’
‘I will – later,’ I said. I opened the door and climbed out, glanced back to find him still watching me, narrow-eyed. ‘After I’ve been to see Sean.’
He smiled briefly, put the car into gear and drove away, and as I watched him go I wondered what he’d really been about to say.