‘You’re bloody right I would have.’ He wasn’t smiling. ‘OK, let’s await the cavalry.’ They sat down together on the edge of the platform. He put an arm round her.

She let him.

Chapter 30

30

They waited.

The helicopter’s roar vibrated the walls and floor of the barn; they huddled closer against its assault. Suddenly it changed pitch, screaming even louder, then gradually began to quieten.

‘He’s on his way. That thug with him, I hope,’ said Patrick. ‘Good riddance. What did you tell Sylvia?’

‘To report it as kidnapping and false imprisonment,’ said Sara.

‘They’ve got him. Hope they don’t forget us.’

He rose and switched on whatever further lights he could find. They waited, anticipating footsteps, then a shout, perhaps a beating down of the door.

Nothing. Only a drift into silence as the helicopter sounds ebbed away in the hills.

‘I don’t get it,’ she said.

‘And I don’t like it,’ he replied. He got up again and tried the door Kareem had left by. Still locked. He walked, agitation in his stride, to the second entrance.

‘What the—’ he began. He swivelled to her. ‘This door’s ajar.’ He turned back and pushed. It swung easily open.

‘Careful,’ she said.

He poked his head out. As still as a windless lake. There was enough left of the gloaming to see across the courtyard and down the gravel driveway. He walked out, confirmed the picture and returned.

‘Deserted,’ he said. ‘Not a soul. I didn’t hear the locks being released.’

‘Nor did I.’

‘They, someone, must have done it under cover of the helicopter noise.’

‘What’s happened, Patrick?’ Calm had deserted her. ‘I don’t understand what’s happened.’

‘You’re sure you kept to the phone discipline.’

‘Yes, I texted Sylvia from my burner to the one you got her. And told her to remember to use that one to phone the police.’

‘She must be under even tighter surveillance than we thought.’ He headed towards the door; she ran to catch up with him. Outside he stared up at the now moonlit sky. ‘That helicopter was his cavalry, not ours.’

Eyes covering all angles, they headed towards the gates. The car was where he’d left it, apparently untouched. ‘He’ll be crowing now,’ said Patrick, ‘imagining how gulled we must feel.’

Driving back down the lane, neither wanted to start the conversation they had to have. Patrick’s constant checking of the rear-view mirror allowed her an opening.

‘Do you want to stop and go over the car?’

‘What’s the point? If the professionals are tracking, it’ll be by satellite.’

‘OK. Should we analyse what just happened? And what comes next.’

‘Can we wait till we hit the motorway? These roads are making me twitchy.’