Second Shot

“Yes, I know the agreement’s watertight, Felix, believe me. What I’m proposing is a trade,” Rosalind said when he began to speak again. My chest tightened. I knew where this was going. There could only be one outcome. “You sign the business back over to me and I’ll give you something much more valuable in exchange-Ella.”

Vaughan’s derision was clear. Rosalind cut across him like a razor, so sharp he didn’t feel the slice of the blade until it was already through his skin. “She’s worth approximately twenty-five million dollars, Felix. The money was Simone’s, but Ella is, after all, her only heir. I’ll give you an hour to think about it. Then call me. Oh, and as a gesture of good faith, I think I should warn you that Greg is on his way over there now. He’s got a couple of hired guns with him. Professionals.” She gave a tight little smile. “Yes, I’m sure you will, Felix.” And she ended the call without saying good-bye.

In the backseat, Matt began to hyperventilate like he was about to have an asthma attack.

“You bitch,” he muttered. “How could you just-just sell her off like that? What kind of a monster are you?”

“The desperate kind,” Rosalind said calmly.

Matt started to curse her then, getting louder and more fluent as he got into his stride. Rosalind sighed and twisted a little farther round in her seat so her back was more against the window glass and she could keep both of us in view.

“Don’t make me shoot you just to shut you up,” she said to him, her dispassionate tone silencing him better than venom would ever have done.

She stiffened as another car turned into the parking area, its lights sweeping across us. For a moment I entertained a tiny glimmer of absurd hope that it was Sean and Neagley, who’d somehow seen through Lucas’s story-and Rosalind’s trap-and come back to rescue us. The car drove past and disappeared round the end of the next apartment block.

“OK,” Rosalind said. “Let’s go inside. Who has the keys?”

For a moment neither of us spoke.

“You’re not just making things worse for yourselves by being awkward,” Rosalind said, holding the mobile phone up. “Perhaps you’d like to consider Ella’s welfare.”

“I’ve got the keys,” Matt said, speaking fast and a little breathless. He fumbled in his pocket and brought them out, his hands shaking so badly that they jingled on their ring. “Just don’t let him hurt her. Please.”

Rosalind made no moves to take the keys. “We’re all going to go inside-you first,” she said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Matt scrambled down out of the Range Rover’s backseat, too frightened to get creative. As soon as he was out of the car, I said softly, “I meant what I said. If you hurt Ella, I will kill you. You do know that, don’t you?”

Rosalind gave me an assessing glance, one hand on the door handle.

“If I was foolish enough to give you the opportunity?” she said. “Yes, I reckon you would.”

I took my time about getting out of my side, exaggerating it, trying to give Matt time to do something. I’m not entirely sure what I expected of him, exactly. But he didn’t do it, anyway.

Eventually, Rosalind tired of my tactics, moving in behind me and kicking into the back of my left knee. The leg buckled and I collapsed against the side of the Range Rover, gasping. I let go of the crutch, which bounced off the bodywork and clattered onto the icy ground.

“Pick it up,” Rosalind said to Matt. “And quit stalling,” she added to me. “Get inside before I lose my patience completely.”

This time, the way I hobbled to the door to the apartment didn’t have to be feigned. It was eight degrees below freezing that night, but by the time we reached the doorway I was sweating under my coat.

Rosalind stayed well back from the pair of us, keeping the gun steady. At some point during the walk from the car, she’d taken the time to screw a suppressor to the end of the Beretta’s barrel, very like the one Reynolds had used when he’d made his abortive attempt to snatch Ella from the house. At least I now knew where he shopped for his weaponry. All those ex-military M9 Berettas. I hadn’t given it a second thought.

She kept us standing in the hallway while she moved farther into the lounge area, sweeping books off the coffee table and even the scatter cushions off the sofa before she motioned the pair of us to sit there. Not giving us anything we could throw, however lightweight, to distract her.

“What now?” Matt asked, trying to control the waver in his voice and not quite succeeding.

“We wait,” Rosalind said. She sat in one of the chairs opposite and pulled the mobile phone out of her coat pocket again. She keyed in a different number rather than hitting redial, her eyes flicking to her wrist-watch before she put the phone up to her ear.

“It’s me,” she said when the call was answered. “How’s our little guest behaving?”

Reynolds.

I felt Matt stiffen alongside me, felt him draw breath and hold it, trying to hear what was being said even though he knew he didn’t stand a chance.