He pulled the silencer away from Raysa’s head so he could maneuver in front but kept his weapon trained on the girls between the seats. Then he turned to look at the pack Jani had been wearing. It was on its back where he had deposited it in the passenger seat.

He rolled it over. “There are two pouches,” he said. “Top or bottom?”

“The top.”

Grigor unbuckled its strap with his left hand, opened the pouch flap and saw the phone. It was in a special sleeve.

He pulled it out, quickly looking it over in his hand. It had been switched off, probably a school requirement.

“Very good,” he said to the girls.

They sat there petrified with fear, Raysa weeping fitfully.

He gave her a stony look. “Now yours,” he said. “Where is it?”

She opened her mouth to answer but couldn’t manage to wring the words out through her tears.

“She doesn’t have one,” Jani said. “Our mom and dad say she’s too young.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

Grigor abruptly leaned closer again and pushed the gun against her head, forcing it backward. His eyes remained on Raysa.

“Is she telling truth?” he asked.

Raysa nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Not good enough,” he said and shook his head. “Talk to me. Go on. You have such a pretty voice.”

Her lips opened and closed as she struggled to force the words out between heavy, convulsive sobs. It seemed to take all her strength, but at last she managed it.

“Jani’s telling the truth,” she bawled thickly. “I don’t have a phone.”

Grigor kept his eyes on her for a moment longer. Then he drew the gun back from her sister’s forehead.

“OK,” he said. “I like girls who tell the truth.”

Seconds passed. Still facing them, Grigor pushed his door open wide enough to toss Jani’s phone onto the grass bordering the driveway. He was aware its location could be traced even with the cellular connection disabled, but the clandestine tools to do that took some time to set up. He doubted Musil already knew his daughters had been taken...and even if he did, he wouldn’t have known for long.

Aiming the gun through the partly open door, he fired once, blowing the cell phone to bits. The discharge hardly disturbed the quiet. No one heard. The properties on the block were widely spaced. This being the last before the cul-de-sac, it was even more isolated than the rest. A few birds squalled into the air, and that was all.

Grigor shut the door, turning to face the girls again, putting the Glock back on them.

“Here’s the next thing I want to explain,” he said. “You see the garage in front of us? I know, it’s hard to miss. But nod yes or no, anyway. So I know you’re paying attention.”

They nodded. He smiled.