The Persian Price (9 page)

And then her instincts shouted down the logic. When it came to his child, Logan had excluded her ruthlessly. He had shown no sensitivity; he regarded his daughter as his property. His obsessive love for her had condemned the little girl to a stultifying regime and denied her a full relationship with her parents. He would never let Lucy go and no arguments or appeals would persuade him. Much of his protective love for Eileen had been diverted to the baby; she realized that too. There was no virtue in being weak or sentimental. Logan was incapable of being either.

She gave up the attempt to sleep, switched on her light and read for most of the night. At eight the next morning she was woken by Bridget with coffee and the newspapers. She felt worse after the few hours of uneasy rest, but at least her mind was made up.

‘I have some business to do today,' she told the maid. ‘Then I'm going back home with Lucy for a few weeks. I'd like you to come with me.'

‘That'd be grand, Madam.' Bridget looked delighted. She had left under a cloud of family disapproval. She didn't mind going back as Mrs Field's personal maid. ‘I'd love to go home. When will we be going?'

‘Tomorrow,' Eileen said. ‘I'll get our tickets through Mr Field's office. They can send them over.'

At the bedroom door Bridget hesitated. She looked at Eileen sitting up in the over-large bed. There wasn't a trace of envy in the girl's nature where Eileen was concerned. She didn't notice the handmade nightdress, the beautifully appointed room with all its overtones of luxury, the tray she had brought up from three floors down. All she saw was how pale and unhappy poor Mrs Field looked, with great dark rings under her eyes as if she hadn't been to sleep at all.

‘There's nothing wrong, is there, Mam?' she lapsed into the familiar Irish.

‘I'll tell you about it when we get to Meath,' Eileen answered. She managed to smile at her. ‘Don't worry, Biddy. I'll be all right.'

The nanny left at midday. Peters and Madeleine were stationed in the hired car at a place in the road where they could see the front door of the house. They saw the taxi come up and the woman go down the steps with a manservant carrying two large suitcases. Lucy Field had not come out for a walk that morning, nor had anybody else left the house. Peters lit a cigarette while he waited for the taxi cab to move off.

‘In a way it's worked out better,' he said. ‘We had to gamble on the nurse not going to the police. Sure as hell the mother won't. She'll have Logan Field back here on the next flight.'

‘The risks are greater,' Madeleine Labouchère said. ‘That house is full of people.'

‘You're not nervous, are you?' he looked at her briefly.

She shrugged. ‘A little. If anyone interferes we're going to have to shoot them. So long as you realize that.'

‘As a last resort,' he said. ‘Resnais will do his part and we'll walk out without any trouble. Don't go anticipating it. This isn't a commando raid.'

‘I wish it were,' she said. ‘I'd feel a lot easier.'

Peters looked at his watch. It was ten minutes past twelve.

‘Okay,' he said. ‘We've got three hours to get to the field. Resnais has just walked round the corner. Let's go.'

It seemed as if the butler had been waiting by the front door for them to ring. Madeleine had scarcely stepped back from pressing the bell when the door opened. Mario saw a well-dressed woman and a tall American.

‘Yes?'

‘Is Mrs Field in?' Madeleine smiled and stepped forward. She had authority with servants, having been brought up with them. Mario gave way and they walked into the hall.

‘Yes Madam. Who shall I say?'

‘Mr and Mrs Lyons, from San Francisco.'

‘If you'll wait in the drawing room, please, I'll call Mrs Field. I think she's upstairs in the nursery.'

‘Oh, then we'll go on up.' Madeleine hooked her arm through Peters's. ‘I haven't seen Lucy for so long – I'm sure she's grown.' She gave a dazzling smile at the butler and started up the stairs. He heard her laugh and say to her husband, ‘My dear – what a lot of stairs! No wonder Eileen keeps her figure.' He had a feeling that they should have been shown into the drawing room, but he didn't see how he could have prevented the lady when she was so determined and seemed to know Mrs Field very well. An English butler wouldn't have hesitated; Mario didn't have the tradition of that intimidating breed behind him. He decided that there was nothing to worry about and went downstairs to the basement. He wanted to gloat over the hated nurse's departure with his wife and Bridget Hagan.

Eileen had Lucy by the hand. The child missed her morning walk. She pulled gently at her mother.

‘Park,' she said.

‘I'll take you this afternoon, darling,' Eileen said. ‘You're coming down to lunch with me – that'll be fun, won't it? We'll have a lovely lunch together in the dining room …'

She opened the door of the day nursery and moved onto the landing. The little white gate stood open. She heard the voices first. They were low and they came from the floor below.

‘It's at the top of the house. All the better.'

That was a man speaking, a man with an American accent, talking very low.

‘We'll just take the kid and walk out.'

Eileen stood very still. She felt a pull on her hand and looked at Lucy; the child was trying to drag her forward out of the doorway.
Take the kid.
Panic rushed up in her, blind and horrified.
Take Lucy.
Logan had sent someone to take the child. There was no time for reason, panic won. She swung Lucy into her arms and ran back into the day nursery.

‘Mummy …' the little girl began to wail, sensing terror in her mother.

Eileen rushed through to the night nursery; her instinct was to put Lucy somewhere safe, to interpose solid wood between her and whoever Logan had sent to take her. She put her daughter on her bed.

‘Lucy – darling, stay there. Stay quietly there, like a good girl. I'll be back in a minute. Here, take Teddy …'

There was a key in the outside of the door; she had never noticed it before. She slammed the door and locked it. When she turned round, Peters and Madeleine Labouchère were in the room. She didn't say anything or even cry out. She stood flattened against the door behind which she had locked the child. Peters brought his right hand out of his coat and pointed Resnais's smuggled pistol at her. He spoke very quietly. Madeleine had shut the door behind them. They were enclosed in the pink and white room with all the fluffy toys standing at attention.

‘Mrs Field? Don't make any noise please. Just stay quite still and listen. Then you won't get hurt.'

‘What do you want?' Her voice came out in a whisper. ‘Who are you?'

‘Get away from that door,' Madeleine ordered. Her tone was sharper than Peters's. She saw the frightened woman guarding her child as an enemy, nothing more.

‘No,' Eileen said. And suddenly she heard herself loud and clear, ‘No. You're not going to get my child!'

Peters took a step towards her. She saw the muzzle of the gun coming closer and she felt nothing but panic for Lucy. The nursery windows were wide open, protected by iron bars painted white so that the little girl couldn't climb up and fall out. The key bit into her palm.

She moved so quickly that neither of them realized what she had done. The key flew through the window and vanished into the street below.

Peters grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her away from the door. She gave a wild cry and started to struggle. He jammed the gun into her neck. Madeleine wrenched at the nursery door. She swore furiously in Arabic.

‘It's locked! The key …' She swung on Eileen. ‘Where's the key?'

‘She threw it out of the window,' Peters said. He had his hand over Eileen's mouth.

‘Shoot her,' Madeleine said. ‘Shoot her and we can break that door down!'

‘No,' Peters said. ‘We can't get the child. If we kill her the whole operation falls to pieces. It's a full murder and kidnapping. We've got to change the plan.' He spoke in Arabic. He handed the gun to Madeleine. ‘Do exactly what I tell you. We're going to take the wife instead.'

He spoke to Eileen; he held her tightly round the waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

‘Listen, Mrs Field. It's quite likely your child is on the other side of that door, listening to us trying to get in. I'm going to take my hand away. If you cry out or make any noise, my friend will start shooting through that door. Do you understand?'

He waited a moment and then released her. She stared at him and then at the girl, aiming her gun at the nursery door. There was a sound from the other side of it.

‘Mummy … Mummy!'

Eileen gave a cry that was a moan of fear and anguish that only they could hear.

‘Don't … don't, for God's sake.'

‘We don't want to hurt her,' Peters said. ‘Or you, unless we have to. You've got to come with me, Mrs Field. You've got to do exactly as I tell you or my friend will go on firing through the door until she kills your child. Or seriously wounds her.'

Eileen swayed for a second. Peters caught her by the elbow.

‘We're going to walk out of here; we're going downstairs and into the street. My friend will wait here for exactly three minutes and, if there is no disturbance, she'll follow us. No harm will come to your child. Just so long as you cooperate.'

‘Logan didn't send you,' Eileen whispered. ‘He wouldn't do this … who are you?'

‘You're in the hands of the Palestine Liberation Army,' Peters said. ‘We're taking you as a hostage.' He spoke to Madeleine. ‘I'll leave the door open. Listen carefully. If you hear anything unusual, open fire. Give us three minutes by your watch. Then if everything has gone quietly, come down.' ‘Now,' he said to Eileen, ‘are you ready?'

She pulled away from him. The moment of panic had passed. She felt numb and cold with terror. All she could see was the woman, pointing the gun at the door.

‘Lucy,' she heard the woman call out softly, ‘come here, come to the door …'

Eileen grabbed wildly at Peters. ‘No … no, no … I'll come with you. I'll do anything.'

He guided her out to the landing, gave her a push when she hesitated and turned back.

‘You won't,' she begged. ‘Please, you won't do it …'

The girl gave her a look of contempt.

‘You'd better cooperate. I have another clip of cartridges in my pocket. I'll use them all.'

She went downstairs ahead of Peters. He had no gun, no means of forcing her to go with him. Upstairs, her child was a foot away from mutilation or death. On the first landing, she met Bridget coming up. The girl stood back for her, and Eileen passed without a word.

Mario was in the basement, engaged at the area door by Resnais, who was asking for directions to an address in Eaton Place. He had kept the Portuguese talking for several minutes. There was nobody in the hall. Peters moved beside her and opened the front door. Eileen stopped.

‘Please,' she whispered, ‘please call her down. I beg of you …'

He opened the door and they stepped out into the sunshine. Resnais was coming up the area steps. Peters took Eileen by the arm.

‘Just keep calm,' he said. ‘Nothing will happen to the child so long as you do what I tell you. Over here.'

There was a Ford Cortina parked on the opposite side of the road. Peters opened the back door and told her to get in. Resnais came round the other side and got into the driver's seat. Peters sat watching the front door of the Fields's house. It opened and Madeleine Labouchère came out. She came over to the car. Peters spoke to her in Arabic.

‘Everything all right?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘The child was crying. I shut the nursery door. Nobody will hear from downstairs.'

‘Good,' he said. ‘Telephone down and tell them to meet us at Orval instead. Then go straight to Heathrow and get on a plane. Get rid of that gun. We'll meet at the rendezvous.'

Resnais put the car into gear and it moved off.

‘My friend is going to wait around,' Peters said to Eileen. ‘I've told her to go back into the house and kill your child unless you do what we tell you. She won't hesitate.' He saw her lean forward for a moment, covering her face with her hands. ‘Sit still,' he said. He was paying little attention to her. There was nothing she could do. And with Madeleine left behind, nothing she would attempt. The child was locked in her nursery. Her mother, watched by a maid, had gone out. Something had to be done, but he wasn't sure what. The servants had to be reassured that the locked door was an accident and the only person who could do that was Eileen Field. They shouldn't delay for long. It was twelve-twenty-five. Resnais was driving in the direction of Baker Street. Peters saw a telephone box. He told the Frenchman to stop.

‘Mrs Field …' He looked dispassionately into the haggard face. ‘Nobody must know you've been taken. I want to impress this on you. The safety of your child depends on it. And your own safety.'

‘I don't care what happens to me,' Eileen said. ‘I don't care what you do to me. Just leave Lucy alone …' Tears were spilling down her face.

‘You'll have to telephone home,' Peters said. ‘Make up some story that'll satisfy your staff. Say the door was locked accidentally and put someone in charge of your child; tell them you're going to be away for a while. I shall be right beside you, so don't try anything funny. Wipe your face.' He gave her his handkerchief. ‘Okay. Now get out.'

They were side by side in the telephone box. Eileen dialled her own number and he put in a coin.

‘Watch it,' he said. ‘Don't try anything.'

‘I won't,' she turned to him, holding the receiver, ‘All I want is for Lucy to be safe.'