Danny Dempsey and the Unlikely Alliance (17 page)

‘I like to think so, Danny, though it seems not everyone around here is of the same opinion.
Some
of them have been casting aspersions on my judgement, if you don't mind.'

‘Never!' Danny gasped, pretending shock. ‘I don't believe it! Surely not on a sheep of your sensitivity?'

‘Can you believe it?' Edwina retorted indignantly, though at the same time swelling with pride at the compliment. ‘Some of them have even implied that I've deliberately insulted them!'

‘I suppose it's hard to please everyone,' Danny said casually, noting that the inhabitants of both the rabbit and puppy dog enclosures, even though out of earshot, were pressed up against the wire mesh, as they endeavoured to hear the contents of the conversation. ‘But I imagine trying to keep them all happy is what good leadership's all about. I'm sure you'll come up with the right solution to leave them in no doubt you'd never any intention of insulting anybody.'

Edwina eyes went all dewy-eyed at this further praise being bestowed on her. It was all becoming too much for her. ‘Perhaps you're right Danny,' she said with all the modestly she could muster. ‘It's anything but easy convincing those puppy dogs their tails had been the furthest things from my mind when I picked the subject for the debate.'

‘If I were you, Edwina, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of having anything more to grumble about. They'll be ashamed they opened their mouths in the first place if you announce you've simply changed your mind and decided to alter the motion altogether.'

‘What a wonderful idea!' Edwina exclaimed. ‘
That
will soon put them in their places! I wouldn't at all be surprised if they voted on making a public apology to me for daring to doubt my integrity in the first place.'

‘I wouldn't worry too much about that part of it, Edwina,' Danny said, thinking to himself that she might be waiting a long time before an apology arrived. ‘The important thing is to show them you're big enough to change your decision. The whole compound will respect you for it, even if they may not say so to your face.' Danny then brought a little further diplomacy into play. ‘Even if they don't say it openly, they're sure to be thinking in those terms. If I were you, I'd just casually mention that you'd thought of a much better subject for them to debate.' He paused for a few seconds, biting the inside of his lip, giving a very good impression of someone racking their brains to come up with something suitable. ‘If I was a member of the audience, I'd simply love to hear the teams debate the motion as to whether or not it would be a good idea that seagulls be compelled to take a good hot shower every time they'd paid a scavenging visit to the town's rubbish dump.'

‘You know, I've often thought the very same thing myself,' Edwina declared. ‘Personally, I think it should be compulsory. After all, hygiene is extremely important. I know some of them do shower voluntarily after each foray they make, but there are others who are not quite so civic-minded.' She did a little four-hoofed jig of excitement at the thought. ‘This could set a precedent, Danny. Once word spreads, the Animal Council could very well pass a law to that effect. It's something that really should be discussed in depth.'

‘There you go, Edwina. You could become famous yet. I think that's a very good idea
you've
come up with.'

‘It is, isn't it,' Edwina agreed. ‘I'm so glad I thought of it.'

Indeed
, Danny said to himself, as he watched her strut towards the enclosures to reveal her change of plans on the subject of the debate,
I'm sure the puppy dogs will be glad too
.

When he returned to the shack to wake Charlie, Danny was surprised to see a circular piece of paper with a drawing of a dartboard on it pinned to the front door. He wondered how long it had been there. Had he missed seeing it on his way to feed the animals? How important was it, and had it been there all night? Danny hoped he hadn't lost valuable time already by not noticing it earlier. It was held fast by a goose-feather dart in the exact centre of the red-crayoned bull's-eye, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who had decided on this unique way of sending him a message. At the very bottom was scrawled in large black letters the request to:
P.T.O.

M
atthew Dawson heard the key to the bedroom door turning. He was sitting in an armchair, reading
War and Peace
. He had his back to the door, and deliberately chose to ignore whoever was entering. He continued to keep his gaze fixed firmly on the pages, having made up his mind he wasn't going to give these people the time of day if at all possible. His suspicions that he was being held for ransom had been neither denied nor confirmed when he'd first tried to pry some information from some of them. That was before he discovered he was wasting his breath.

Now, he wasn't even going to ask whoever it was who'd just come in what it was had been responsible all that howling outside the house earlier. He'd heard it at more or less the same time as he'd heard the noise of the helicopter. It had stopped just as abruptly as it had started. It had sounded like a pack of starving wolves, but Matthew knew that that was impossible. So he wasn't even going to give them the satisfaction of pretending that he'd heard anything at all. Then a dark shadow refected from the light of the reading-lamp beside his armchair fell on the pages of his book. Still, Matthew didn't turn his head or acknowledge the person's presence.

‘Ah, Tolstoy!' a refined voice intoned behind his back. ‘An excellent choice. Something to stir the imagination and stimulate the intellect. I read it myself when I was four years old.'

Matthew was surprised rather than startled at the cultured accent. It was the first time he'd heard such an educated, well-bred voice since he'd been abducted.

And when Myles Moran moved around the armchair to stand in full view before him, Matthew saw a distinguished looking, immaculately attired man smiling down at him.

Everything about the man spoke of elegance and assurance. He was tall and handsome, with a full head of perfectly groomed silver hair. His teeth were white and straight, his eyes warm and welcoming. It was difficult to discern his age, but Matthew guessed the man to be in his late forties. In his presence, for all Matthew's experience in dealing with people throughout his career, it wasn't easy to keep up the pretence of being unimpressed.

‘I trust everything is to your satisfaction, Mr. Dawson?' Myles asked, still smiling. ‘And that you're finding your stay with us a pleasant one?'

‘Now look here!' Matthew bristled, ‘I demand to know exactly what's going on! Nobody will answer anything I ask them!'

‘All in good time, Mr. Dawson, all in good time. Rest assured the reason for your visit to us will be revealed in due course. I've issued instructions that you were on no account to be discommoded by any piffling details which were being enacted outside the confines of this room.' He waved a manicured hand in a graceful gesture in the direction of a second armchair. ‘May I sit down?'

‘By all means do!' Matthew shot back sarcastically. ‘I don't see that there's anything to prevent you.'

‘Please don't distress yourself, Mr. Dawson,' Myles replied, as he seated himself opposite Matthew. ‘Life's too short for petty irritations, don't you think?'

‘If this is what you deem to be a petty irritation, there's something seriously the matter with you!' Matthew replied angrily. ‘If you can define abducting someone and holding them against their will in such terms, I feel sorry for you, whoever you are! It's nothing short of a cruel and callous criminal act, and well you know it!'

‘Please, Mr. Dawson, I beg you not to excite yourself in this manner.' Myles responded calmly to the outburst. ‘Remember your medical condition. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you whilst you are my guest.'

‘I'm
not
your guest! I'm your prisoner!'

‘Let's not fall into exaggeration here, Mr. Dawson. You're surely not telling me this short inconvenience you're enduring is in any way akin to being in prison? Have you not been accorded every courtesy and consideration your esteemed position entitles you to? Has anyone mistreated you? Been deliberately rude? Not immediately attended to your needs as they arose? If any of my employees has been anything other than respectful, Mr. Dawson, please let me know. I'll deal with them personally, and you can rest assured they'll be severely reprimanded for disobeying my orders.'

‘It's you I'd like to deal severely with!' Matthew retorted heatedly. ‘The least you might do is have the decency to tell me why I'm here!'

‘I'm a businessman, Mr. Dawson, and at the moment I'm in the process of negotiating one of the biggest deals of my career. The contract has yet to be honoured, but I'm confident that little obstacle will be overcome in the next day or so.'

‘Just as I thought!' Matthew replied bitterly. ‘I
am
being held for ransom.' He stared straight into Myles's eyes. ‘You're nothing but a common kidnapper! And do you want to hear something else?' Myles shrugged indifferently, his warm friendly smile not wavering in the slightest. ‘The authorities won't offer you a single cent for my release.'

‘You're a brave man, Mr. Dawson,' Myles said. ‘Just as my years of research into your background have already revealed to me. Your courage and steadfastness are greatly to be commended. But - -' here he hesitated for several seconds, surveying his fingernails in the manner of an actor taking a rehearsed pause for dramatic effect. ‘Sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice such noble qualities and replace them with another which is even more potent.'

Myles looked at him quizzically. ‘What on earth are you talking about?' he demanded. ‘Or do you see yourself as some sort of half-baked philosopher as well as a criminal?'

‘Love, Mr. Dawson,' Myles replied, unabashed at Matthew's attempts to unsettle him. ‘The most powerful of all the emotions. It can move mountains, unite nations, make strong men weep, cause even the most heroic of individuals to alter their opinions when the safety of their nearest and dearest are in any way threatened. That, Mr. Dawson, is the reason I was aware the precaution of taking out some cast-iron insurance was necessary before undertaking this particular business venture.'

‘Is speaking in riddles another of your specialities?' Matthew enquired, closing the book and placing it on the arm of the chair. ‘Or do you deliberately do it to sound more irritating than you already are?'

‘I think you'll have quite a deal more respect for my rationality in time, Mr. Dawson, once you've learned the reasoning behind what I've been telling you.'

‘Which is?'

‘I want you to do something for me. As a matter of fact, I insist on it. There's been too much stalling on the part of the authorities already. In short, Mr. Dawson, they're beginning to stretch my patience somewhat.'

‘Good!' Matthew said with feeling. ‘That's the best piece of news I've heard since I got here. I hope they continue to cause you whatever annoyance they can. From what you've told me, I can see exactly what's happening. They're not meeting your demands as fast as you'd like them to. And I salute them for it. You see, Mr. whatever-you-call- yourself, that's
exactly
how they know I'd want them to act.' He stood up and gazed down at Myles, a look of triumph on his face. ‘In fact, I stipulated those very terms before first accepting the appointment as Governor of the Central Bank. We drew up an agreement to that effect. Under
no
circumstances was ransom to be paid should I ever be kidnapped. I'm an old man with a heart condition, and therefore count myself as expendable. I don't
care
what happens to me.' Matthew even went so far as to laugh quietly at the frustration he assumed his revelation would evoke in his kidnapper. ‘I'm afraid you've gone to all this elaborate planning for nothing.' He resumed his seat. ‘So how do you like that, you – you unprincipled scoundrel.'

If Matthew had been expecting rage and disconcertion to express itself in the man's face, he was disappointed. The warm smile remained intact, and the friendly eyes continued to regard Matthew as they‘d done since he'd first made his presence known to his
guest.
‘I don't think you've really been listening to a word I've said, Mr. Dawson', he said quietly, after patiently waiting for Matthew to conclude his speech. ‘You do recall, I presume, my informing you of the insurance I've taken out to cover such an eventuality?'

Matthew narrowed his eyes and frowned. The man was so maddeningly serene about everything he'd heard, it made Matthew suspect that he was either a lunatic or a genius. Nothing appeared to ruffle his feathers in the slightest. Despite his own determination to also remain calm and composed, Matthew couldn't help but feel a certain amount of uneasiness beset him.

He quickly brought it under control, calling on the vast reserves he'd acquired over the years in dealing with hard-nosed business people of every description, all of them endeavouring to gain for themselves the most advantageous terms possible, some by whatever means possible. It was akin to playing poker, and Matthew had become an expert at every facet of the game, priding himself on being able to read those he was dealing with like an open book. Every mannerism or tiny alteration of expression gave him an immediate insight into whether or not someone could be trusted to do business with. But now, for possibly the first time in his life, he was at a loss. The man seated before him gave no hint of anything other than complete composure.

‘There's something I wish to show you, Mr. Dawson, before you do my bidding, but there's no point in my trying to persuade you
before
you view the insurance policy I've been telling you about.'

‘I really couldn't care less how much insurance you've taken out. I'll do nothing whatsoever to help you in any way. You can do what you want with me, but I'll
never
besmirch my integrity at your behest.'

‘Bravo, Mr. Dawson! I'd have expected nothing less noble from you. But as I've already mentioned, people's attitudes can become less heroic as circumstances alter.'

Myles rose from his chair. He made his way towards the bookcase. There were two matching wall-lamps either side of it.

Matthew's eyes followed him scornfully, determined to refuse to be a part of whatever proposition was about to be put to him. He wouldn't even deign to read the documents he was sure he was going to be shown. What he'd told Myles regarding not caring what happened to him was perfectly true. They could throw him in a dungeon if they wished, torture him to within a inch of his life, and he still wouldn't cooperate with them. People such as these were beneath contempt. He'd had a reasonably full and happy life, and was prepared to die rather then give in to their demands. And his heart condition would mercifully speed his death, if and when they started in on him.

Myles gripped the bracket of the wall-lamp on the left of the bookcase and drew it downwards. It was obviously a lever of some sort. Matthew did his best to contain his surprise, but wasn't being entirely successful. He could almost predict what was coming next, and mentally kicked himself for not having been more thorough in his investigation of the room himself, seeing as he'd been in it for so long. He fully expected a secret passage to materialise just as soon as the lamp bracket was fully depressed. It may even have been his means of escape had he been fortunate enough to stumble upon it. But Matthew was wrong.

When Myles had completed what he was engaged in, a large panel in the wall slowly swung inwards. Matthew, in spite of himself, was fascinated. There appeared to be something the matter with the mechanism, as that part of the wall which was reversing itself came to a standstill. Half of it was jutting out into the bedroom, the other half still pointing inwards, the result being that it looked as thought someone had started the engineering process and forgotten to finish it. Shoddy workmanship, Matthew smiled to himself, secretly delighted that the man was having problems accomplishing whatever it was he was trying to do.

But Matthew's joy was short-lived. Myles moved to the matching lamp on the right-hand side of the bookcase. He pushed its bracket upwards, completing the reversal of the wall panel. A bank of TV monitors swung into position. At an angle beneath them lay the control board. All the screens were blank. Myles fingers moved deftly over the board and brought one of the screens to life. He tuned it in before turning smilingly to Matthew. ‘I think this may interest you, Mr. Dawson,' he said pleasantly. ‘Perhaps you'd do me the honour of studying it and letting me have your professional opinion as to its value.'

‘No thanks!' Matthew snapped. ‘I really couldn't care less one way or the other. And I'm certainly not going to offer you advice, professional or otherwise!' He plucked
War and Peace
from the arm of the chair, sat back, opened it, then made the pretence of resuming to read. ‘And I'd be very much obliged if you'd be so kind as to leave me to get on with my reading. I've really had more than enough of your preening presence already!'

‘I'm afraid I must insist, Mr Dawson.' Myles replied calmly. ‘And I assure you, it's in
both
your interests. As soon as we get this unpleasantness out of the way, the sooner your beloved granddaughter will be reunited with her parents.'

Matthew felt his throat constrict, and for the first time since he'd been abducted, real fear invaded his being. He threw the book aside and rushed over to the television monitor, his legs trembling beneath him in his anxiety to reach it. Every last ounce of defiance and resistance drained from him at what he saw. He tore his eyes away from the screen and stared at Moran in disbelief. Matthew had never felt so helpless in his life before. His voice was barley audible when he asked, ‘What do you want me to do?'

*

Danny rushed inside the shack as soon as he'd turned the paper
dartboard
over and started reading what was scrawled on the back of it. Charlie was still asleep, the trauma of last night and his exertions prior to it evidently having exhausted him. Exhausted or not, Danny roused him by tugging on his tail three or four times. Charlie growled in his sleep before coming to.