I did. The boy’s eyes were fixed on the camera as if he was interrogating it. The only difference between father and son was the grin on the boy’s face. Frank probably hoped that in a few years’ time the whole smiling thing would just run its course, and Stefan would turn into his father’s son.
His eyes suddenly burnt, and I knew playtime was over. ‘I have a problem. I need your help. Someone has stolen them from me. And I want you to get them back.’
14
‘Have you heard from them? Has anyone contacted you?’
He leant forward, keeping my gaze. He was still remarkably cool, even for a machine. Which was probably why he managed to be whatever he was. ‘No. If they had, I wouldn’t need you.’
I gestured at the wound on the back of my head. ‘Is this what passes for a golden handshake round here? I could have been killed. And so could that lad who bled all over your car seat.’
Frank’s face was stone. ‘I had to know if you are … capable. I only know what you used to do, not if you can still do it. What is it you Brits say — to see if you can still cut some mustard?’
He said it without a trace of a smile. The emotion gene had bypassed Mr T.
‘What about the lad I shot? Are his mustard-cutting days over?’
‘He’ll have a fine life. He’ll get drunk and tell stories of how he fought off five assassins. With the money I’m going to pay him, the women will hang on every word. You’ve done him a very big favour.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Don’t worry about him. Worry instead about my son and his mother. You have certain responsibilities towards her. Or did she lie to me? This is not just personal for me, Nick — it is for you, too, would you not say?’
I took a swig of the brew and gave him a nod. ‘What do you know?’
‘Only that they were taken four days ago, along with their bodyguard. The pirates seized the yacht about a hundred kilometres west of the Seychelles. I’ll pay them whatever they want, Nick. Just find them, and broker the deal.’
It was only a couple of days since four Americans had been killed on their yacht during a bungled rescue operation, after being hijacked off the Horn of Africa. In South East Asia this would have been pretty routine. Crew and passengers were killed and thrown overboard; the ships and their contents were seized. But this was a bit of a turn-up for the Somalis. As far as they were concerned, the people were the prize.
I didn’t know if Frank knew about the US deaths, but either way I’d have to start to manage his expectations. Right now they seemed pretty high, considering he knew fuck-all about what had happened.
‘You sure nobody’s contacted you, even indirectly?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Then how do you know the yacht’s been taken?’
‘The crew was dumped. The yacht was taken with the three of them still aboard. The crew arrived back in Moscow this morning. You will go and see them when we’ve finished here.’
‘The BG, the bodyguard — is he good?’
‘He’s British, like you. He will be doing what he can. I know it. But I will have no further need of him once all this is over. Stefan and his mother — I want them back. I don’t care what it costs.’
I looked at the picture again. ‘This isn’t as clear-cut as you might think. If you pay what the pirates ask, you may put them in more danger. If you don’t bargain, they’ll think you’re loaded. They’ll take your money and then they’ll sell them on to another clan and the whole process will start all over again. Or rival clans could go to war over them. Either way, you’ll never get them back.’
‘Money talks, Nick. If—’
‘There is a protocol. As long as you stick to it, there’s a chance of getting them back. You understand that?’
‘Of course. That is why you are here.’
‘You’ve got to start thinking of them as dead. Plan their funerals in your head. Anything else is a bonus. Do you understand that too?’
He nodded.
‘All right. To confirm, no one has contacted you? No one has been given a message to pass on? No contact number was left with the crew?’
He shook his head.
Maybe Frank hadn’t heard anything yet because they were dead. Or maybe the BG was switched on enough not to give him as the point of contact.
‘So why me? Why aren’t you doing this through your insurance company? They have people who do this sort of thing twenty-four/seven. Or why not get the word out some other way? Knowledge, as you say, is power. And the red plates out there tell me you’ve got both. Why have you come to me?’
He shrugged. ‘I have my reasons. I will pay you extremely well. But we can talk about all that later. Tracy respects you, Nick. I think perhaps she loves you. You have been a good friend to her, not just to her husband. You will not let her down now, will you?’
Eyes riveted to mine, he pointed his finger. ‘You will be doing what you do best. And doing it for somebody you care about. What could be better for a man’s soul? Read some of the books that have been written in this village, Nick. Then you will understand what I am talking about.’
I took another mouthful of my brew. The coffee wasn’t hot any longer, but it still tasted good. ‘I’ll have to try and find a contact. Once I’ve done that, I’ll get back to you. It’s pointless talking about anything else until we know they’re alive.’
He nodded again, slowly.
‘Don’t raise your hopes.’
He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket. The only thing on it was a mobile number. ‘Call me whenever you want. Do not give this out to anyone else. Please remember the number and then destroy the card.’ His eyes burnt again. ‘I’m a very private man.’
The card went into the pocket of my jeans.
‘I need you to buy me a flat, somewhere on the outskirts of London. No more than a hundred and fifty K. In my full name. You know that, of course.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’
I was sure money wasn’t the reason he wanted to know. ‘You’ll find out why if they are still alive. But the only way to get them out safely will be to do exactly what I say.’
An engine rumbled alongside the
Frank leant over the table, eyes boring into me. ‘I want my son and his mother back here. Whatever it costs.’
I took a last mouthful of the brew and swallowed. Finally, I nodded.
If he was pleased at my decision he didn’t show it. He sat back. ‘The crew is waiting for you.’
I gestured towards the sink. ‘Just give me a couple of minutes to clean my head.’
15
I kept my hood up as we stepped into the luxurious lobby of the Ararat Park Hyatt. This was an extraordinarily lavish hotel. The management would have surveillance measures to match.
I didn’t look around much as we headed for the elevators. But the little I saw of the polished steel and marble atrium told me that Frank Timis looked after his people. The cheapest room would be about six hundred dollars a night, and not just because of the architecture. Neglinnaya Street was in the heart of the city, within spitting distance of Red Square, the Kremlin, St Basil’s Cathedral and the Bolshoi Theatre. Property here would cost
