Bella

Steve got to his feet and gave Constance one of his devastating smiles. ‘I’ll go and have a word in the kitchen,’ he said.

‘You’re such a comfort to me, Steve,’ Constance could be heard saying as she went up the stairs.

Lazlo, Rupert and Charles immediately settled down to discuss raising the money, but Charles was obviously having difficulty concentrating.

‘I think I’ll hit the hay, too,’ he said, tottering towards the door. ‘Thank you for coping so admirably with Constance, Lazlo.’

As Charles left the room, Steve came back.

‘Half a capon and a vat of french fries are on their way upstairs to Constance. That should keep her quiet,’ he said to Lazlo. ‘I can’t tell you how appalled I am about Chrissie. I’ve only known her a fortnight, but it’s long enough to realize what a great kid she is.’

‘You didn’t realize anything of the kind,’ snapped Rupert. ‘You were just after her bread.’

‘Shut up, Rupe,’ said Lazlo, and went back to talking about money.

Bella studied Steve surreptitiously, and wondered how she could ever have loved him to such distraction. Everything about him revolted her now. He’s just a handsome hunk of nothing, she thought. Then she turned to Rupert, sitting in the window seat, with his head in his hands, completely gone to pieces. Then she looked at Lazlo. That muscle was still pounding in his cheek, and she suddenly realized the titanic dependability and strength of the man — and how much it must be costing him in sheer teeth-gritting self-control not to give way to sniping and panic like the others.

As unexpected as an extra step at the bottom of a flight of stairs, it came upon her. It was Lazlo she was in love with.

At that moment he looked at her. ‘You’re tired?’ he said.

‘I ought to go,’ she muttered, terrified that he might read what was in her mind.

‘I’ll drive you home,’ said Steve.

‘Rupert’ll take her,’ said Lazlo. ‘I want to pick your brains about raising cash in Buenos Aires, Steve.’

Bella didn’t speak on the way home, desperately trying to control the raging emotions inside her. But when they reached the flat, she asked Rupert if he wanted to come up for a drink.

He shook his head. ‘I must get back. Oh, hell, Bella, what am I going to do? I took Chrissie so much for granted, treating her like a tiresome kid sister, and now, suddenly, she’s gone. .’

‘You realize you’re in love with her.’

He looked up, his face haggard. ‘Yes, I am. I thought I was going to shoot myself last week because you wouldn’t marry me, but now Chrissie’s in such terrible danger, I know it’s her I love, and I don’t suppose I’ll ever see her again.’

Bella put her arms round him. ‘There, there, it’s going to be all right. Lazlo’ll find her for you.’

‘Oh, he’ll get her back if anyone can,’ said Rupert. ‘With all his mates in the underworld, he can pull strings like nobody’s business, but I’ve got a horrible feeling this isn’t a straightforward money kidnapping, that it’s all got something to do with Miguel Rodriguez.’

Bella’s heart missed a beat. ‘The man Lazlo killed?’

Rupert nodded. ‘Miguel’s brother, Juan, has been trying to pay Lazlo back ever since.’

‘What was the real story behind it?’

‘Miguel and Juan Rodriguez ran a vice ring in South America. They had Buenos Aires so completely sewn up. The police were terrified of them. Miguel had a much younger wife called Maria, whom he treated like dirt. She and Lazlo fell in love and had a raging affair. Miguel found out and pulled a knife on Lazlo in a bar. There was a fight. Miguel was killed.

‘The next day — although no-one could pin it on him — Juan had acid thrown in Maria’s face. Her beauty was ruined. She couldn’t bear Lazlo to see her like that. A few days later she committed suicide. The police were too scared of Juan to do anything about it, but Lazlo and he have been stalking each other like a pair of tigers ever since. I think it’s Juan’s boys who have nicked Chrissie, and if they have, they’ll never let her go alive, however much we fork out. That’s what’s crucifying Lazlo.’

‘Was she very beautiful, Miguel’s wife?’ said Bella, trying to sound casual.

‘Maria? Oh, absolutely ravishing. I don’t think Lazlo’s ever really got over her committing suicide.’

After she’d let herself into her flat, Bella sat for hours, lacerated with jealousy at the thought of Maria Rodriguez.

Chapter Seventeen

Two days dragged by with no news of Chrissie. Bella tried to throw herself into rehearsals, but she could think of nothing but Lazlo and the hell he must be going through. She also tried not to feel disappointed when he didn’t telephone her. He must have far too much on his mind.

On the evening of the third day she came out of the theatre absolutely dead beat. She had rehearsed all day, followed by a gruelling performance of Othello in the evening. The audience had been as unreceptive as blotting paper, particularly a coach load from the Mothers’ Union in the stalls who had talked and laughed through the last act.

It was a dark, hot, sultry night, with no stars and a suggestion of thunder. She was wearing only a skimpy red and white spotted dress. The smell of frying garlic and onions from a nearby Italian restaurant made her feel slightly sick. She decided to walk part of the way home. She passed a telephone box and resisted the temptation to go inside and ring Lazlo to find out if he had any news of Chrissie. She would be too tongue-tied to do it properly.

You must stop thinking about him, she told herself angrily.

She turned right into a road only dimly lit by a few street lamps. Suddenly, she saw a cigarette glow in the dark and a figure stepped towards her.

She jumped nervously as a voice whispered, ‘Bella.’

Then she saw a gleam of silver blond hair, and her nervousness turned to irritation. It was Steve.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she snapped.

‘I must talk to you.’

‘Well I don’t want to talk to you. I’ve got nothing to say to you — nothing.’

‘Honey,’ he said urgently. ‘For Pete’s sake listen, I’m on the level. I’ve found out where Chrissie is.’

Bella turned towards him with a gasp.

‘Are you sure? Is she OK?’

‘I don’t know. They’re holding her in some deserted warehouse in the East End. It sounds like a pretty amateur job to me. One of the gang got cold feet and grassed to a mate of mine.’

‘Have you told Lazlo?’

‘I can’t get hold of him. He went to the races this afternoon and hasn’t been seen since.’

‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ said Bella, not stopping to think.

‘I’m parked over there,’ said Steve, pointing to a car under the trees.

Bella ran towards it.

‘Come on. We mustn’t waste any time.’

Her only thought was how pleased Lazlo would be if they found Chrissie.

Steve opened the front door for her, and she was just bending forward to get in when a voice in the back said, in a thick foreign accent, ‘Don’t try anything silly. We’ve got you covered.’

And she saw the gleam of a pistol butt.

Giving a scream, she backed out again, against Steve, but he shoved her violently into the car. The next moment something hard and metallic hit her on the head. And simultaneously it seemed, someone reached in front of her, suffocating her with a sweet-smelling cloth. She had the feeling she was falling forward, crashing her head on the dashboard of the car as she went. Next moment all was blackness.

She had no idea how long she was unconscious. When she came to, there was an excruciating pain pounding