Just One Evil Act

or even visitation or whatever else when it’s proved you were behind her kidnapping?”

“Mr. Doughty told me of a man,” he said. “He spoke of his skills with computers and the trails they leave.”

“Of course he bloody well told you because what Bryan Smythe really did—and you c’n bet your life on this —was wipe out any connection between Doughty and Di Massimo, not between you and anyone. And as to the rest . . . ? As to your connection with any of these blokes . . . ? What the hell did you think? That once Hadiyyah was restored to her mum, the Italian cops were going to let everyone kiss and make up and there would be no further investigation? You can’t have been that bloody mad, Azhar. Don’t ask me to believe that you were because—”

And then she knew. She stopped herself. All of the facts spread out in front of her like a map of the world and she recognised every country depicted. She breathed, “Oh my God. Pakistan. That was it all along.”

He said nothing. He watched her. She wondered if she’d ever really known him. A chasm seemed to exist between who she’d thought he was and who he was turning out to be, and in that moment what she truly wanted was to fling herself into the void created, so stupid had she been, such a dupe, such a fool.

“Doughty was right,” she said. “He found those tickets, Azhar. I expect he didn’t tell you that. SO12 found them as well, in case you’re interested. One-way to Pakistan and yourself a Muslim? That sort of purchase is like lighting firecrackers on a carriage in the Underground at half past five in the afternoon. It gets you noticed. It gets you investigated. Didn’t you think of that?”

Still, he said nothing although she saw his jaw shift. He fixed his gaze on hers, but other than his jaw, he didn’t move a muscle.

She said, “You’re taking her there. You bought the tickets in March because by then all the kidnapping plans were in place, weren’t they? You knew when and you knew how and you knew what Angelina would think and would do and by God she did it. She came to London, you returned with her to Italy, and everything played out according to plan except that one unfortunate car wreck and a dead man, but at the end of the day, you got her back and all was well. And you had—you have—no bloody intention of sharing Hadiyyah with Angelina at all. You’re going to take her to Pakistan and you’re bloody well going to disappear with her because that’s the only hope you have of getting Hadiyyah permanently. And once you knew that Angelina had taken up with another man, you wanted her permanently. You’ve family in Pakistan. Don’t tell me you don’t. And as far as getting employment there . . . ? For a man like you . . . ? A man with your education and background . . . ?”

Nothing from him. Not a change in expression, not a shifting in his chair, not a shuffling of his feet beneath the table. She thought she saw a pulse in the vein on his temple, but she also thought she saw it only because she wanted to see something in place of the nothing that she was seeing as she spoke.

“Tell me, Azhar. You goddamn bloody hell tell me what those tickets to Pakistan mean. Because Inspector Lynley knows about them, and he also knows the arrangement you and Angelina have: that Hadiyyah will come to you for her holidays and the first one begins in July.”

He shifted his gaze at last. It moved to the tiny fireplace across the room. He said, “Yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“That was what I was going to do.”

“And you still intend to do it, don’t you? You’ve got the tickets, and when she comes to you, she’ll have her passport because she’ll be coming from Italy. After a few days here to reassure her and everyone else that peace reigns between you and Angelina, off you’ll go. And there’s no way in hell that Angelina will be able to get her back. Not for years. Not for bloody decades.”

He looked at her then. His eyes were startled. He said, “No, no. You are not listening to me. I said that Pakistan was what I intended. It is not what I now intend. There is no need. We will share her, and both of us—Angelina and I—will make this work.”

Barbara stared at him. Finally, she felt something. It was incredulity and it was sweeping into her with the force of a polluted effluent pouring into a river. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know the words.

He said, “Barbara, what else was I to do? You see this. I know you must see this. She is all I have. My family here is lost to me. You have seen this yourself. I could not lose her when I have lost so much already.”

“I can’t let you disappear with Hadiyyah into Pakistan. I won’t do that.”

“I will not. I will not. I thought I would. I intended to do it. But now, I will not, and I swear this to you.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you? After everything that’s passed? Do you think that’s reasonable?”

“I beg you,” he said. “I give you my word. When I bought those tickets . . . You must understand how I saw Angelina at that time. She had betrayed me. She had disappeared with my child. I’d had no way of knowing where they had gone or if I would ever be able to find them. I’d had no way of knowing if I would ever see Hadiyyah again. I swore to myself in November that if I could find her, I would make a way never to lose her again. Pakistan was that way. But it is not the way now. We have made our peace. It is not perfect, but it cannot be perfect. We will share Hadiyyah and I will see her on her holidays and whenever else I like. Should she wish to return here when she is of age, she will do so. I will be her father and she my daughter and this is how it will be.”

“But not if the Italian coppers track you down,” Barbara told him. “Don’t you see that?”

His fingers closed over the packet of Players on the table between them, but he did not take another one. He said, “They must not track me down. They must not make any further connections.”

“Di Massimo’s not planning to take the fall for this alone. He’s given them Doughty. And when it comes down to it, Doughty’s going to give them you.”

“Then we must stop him,” Azhar said simply.

For a crazy moment, Barbara thought he was suggesting murder. For a crazier moment, she considered the likelihood of his having meddled with the car that had sent Roberto Squali to his death. At that point, anything was beginning to seem possible when it came to Azhar. But then he spoke.

“Barbara, I beg you from the fullness of my heart to help me. I may have committed an act of evil. But this act in the end brought about vast good, not only for me but also for my daughter. You must see that. This man Bryan Smythe . . . If he has removed all traces of connection between Mr. Doughty and the Italian detective Di Massimo, can he not do the same for me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Barbara said.

“I do not see why.”

“Because Doughty has those films. Every meeting. Every plan. Every request you made. I expect he denied them all when you were in his office. I expect he phoned you later—from a call box or a throwaway mobile—and said he’d thought things over and p’rhaps there was a way he could help. What I’m saying is you can rest assured there’s nothing on those films that makes him look bad and everything on them that puts you in an Italian gaol for ten years and counting.”

He was quiet for a moment as he considered this. He finally said quietly, “Then we must get those films.”

Barbara did not miss his use of the plural pronoun.

6 May

SOUTH HACKNEY

LONDON

Barbara rang the Yard in advance of what she presumed was Superintendent Ardery’s normal arrival time. She left a carefully crafted message. She was on her way to Bow for a final word with Dwayne Doughty, she told Dorothea Harriman. There were a few more details that needed to be hammered down, sewed up, or whatever, with regard to the private investigator’s place in the kidnapping of Hadiyyah Upman, and once she’d accomplished this, she’d be able to write the report that the superintendent was anticipating. Harriman asked if Detective Sergeant Havers wished her to fetch the guv so that she could give her the message personally. “She’s only just arrived,” the departmental secretary revealed. “Gone off to the ladies’. I c’n fetch her in a tick, if you’d like to speak