Vengeance in the Sun (14 page)

“She could be nearly anywhere, Peggy. If she wants to hide the mass of rooms at the rear of the villa are a child's delight.”

“But I've been through them all calling her name!” Peggy protested.

“And she's probably been giggling in a corner thinking it all great fun. Another few minutes and she'll be back wanting something to eat.”

But she wasn't. By the time Mario arrived back at eleven o'clock, there was still no sign of her.

“Have you been down to the beach?” he asked, striding through the villa with Peggy and myself hurrying after him.

“No.…”

He broke into a run, leaping down the cliff path like a mountain goat. I flew after him, my heart in my mouth. If she was on the beach she would have heard us calling. That is, if she wasn't hurt she would have heard us calling.… I slipped and slid breathlessly after Mario. The last overhanging branch was pushed aside and the bay lay spread before us, still and beautiful and completely deserted. I leaned against a tree to get my breath, watching fearfully as Mario scrambled over a fall of rocks, searching every possible crack and crevice. He jumped down, spreading his hands in the air with a shrug. The fear I had fought to suppress began to take hold with a vengeance.

The dinghy, a brilliant blob of orange against the vast blue of the sea, bobbed carelessly at anchor. With sudden hope I raced across the sand to the jetty, but there was nothing in it but a pool of water and a stray piece of seaweed.

Mario, his genial face tense and grim, said: “I'll search the villa once more. If she's not there I'm calling the police.”

I didn't argue with him. There had been too many accidents, too many things going wrong. If anything should have happened to Danielle.… I pushed the thought away. She was playing. Hiding. She was all right. Dear God, she had to be all right.

Peggy didn't even ask if we had found her. She took one look at our faces and began to cry, covering her face with her apron. Mario began his search of the villa, and I could hear angry words between him and Leonie. Then he was calling Danielle's name at the top of his voice, distant doors opening and slamming as he scoured every possible hiding place, every cupboard and chest. Breathlessly I ran back up the stairs to her room, passing a sulky Leonie as I did so. I didn't even spare her a glance. Perhaps Danielle was still in her room, hidden in the wardrobe or beneath her bed.…

“Danny!” there was no answering cry. Mr Sam stared desolately at me with his glass eyes. I looked again for her nightdress, checking her clothes, her shoes. All her day shoes were there, only her slippers were missing. There was something else though, something else that should have been in the room and wasn't. My eyes rested on the chair and I knew immediately. Emmeline. Wherever she was, Danny had taken Emmeline with her. I stared once more round the room. Then I saw it. The letter lay on the dressing-table, and if I had been looking for a letter and not a little girl, I suppose I would have seen it much earlier. It was not in Danielle's writing. With sickening intuition I tore it open. Neat, capital lettering said briefly:

“Danielle will be returned when John Van de Naude publicly announces his decision not to head a black government in Ovambia or have anything further to do with APFO. If the police and press are not informed, no harm will come to her.”

I raced down the stairs to Mario, but I had no need to break the news to him. The telephone receiver was in his hand, his eyes glazed with shock. He said blankly: “ It's Mr Van de Naude … they've kidnapped her. Holy Mother of God, they've kidnapped her.…”

I snatched the receiver from him and John Van de Naude's voice said urgently: “Lucy? Is that you, Lucy?”

“Yes. I've just read the kidnap note.…”

“I received one a minute ago and I imagine Helena has as well. I haven't been able to get through to her yet. Listen to me very carefully. I want you to do nothing. Do you understand me? Nothing at all!”

“But she must be still here, in Majorca. The police will be able to find her, check the airport.…”

“No! There's to be no going to the police. The kidnappers are in direct touch with me and I'm handling it. Is that understood?”

“Yes.…”

“I want the three of you to sit tight there and to do nothing, and above all, to tell no-one, and that goes for your American friend. If the press get hold of it, we might never see Danny again!”

“Can I tell Bradley?”

“
Bradley?
”

“Yes. He came unexpectedly yesterday morning.…”

“Let me speak to him!” John Van de Naude barked.

“He's had a slight accident. Nothing serious. He's in the local hospital for a few days.…” It didn't seem to be the time and place to go into explanations.

“Tell Bradley. No-one else. I want no-one screwing things up, do you understand?
No-one
!” and the phone crashed down.

Mario's face was ablaze with anger, he grabbed me by both shoulders, hissing: “ How did they take her? You were supposed to be looking after her!
How did they take her
?”

“I don't know! I put her to bed last night. I heard nothing from her room.…”

His large hands tightened their grip. “Always it is you! The car! The medicine! Now kidnapping! Where is she?
Where is Danielle?
”

“
Stop it, Mario! I don't know!
”

“She would have screamed. She would have called out! They could not have taken her from the villa without a disturbance! Danielle would not have gone with strangers in the middle of the night.
But she would have gone with you! You! You know where she is!
”

“
You're being ridiculous, Mario! I had nothing to do with it. Nothing!
”

“For your sake, I hope you are right!” he said through clenched teeth, pushing roughly past the still crying Peggy.

“Where are you going?” she called after him. “Mr Van de Naude said we must do nothing … tell no-one.…”

“
He didn't say we couldn't look for her!
” and like a wild bull he charged out of the villa, the doors slamming behind him.

Peggy rocked herself to and fro, the tears streaming down her face: “Oh, my baby! My poor baby! Oh dear God, what have they done with her?”

Numbly I walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of strong tea. It seemed the only action I was capable of.

What Mario had said had been correct, in that Danielle would not have left her bed willingly in the middle of the night. Unless they carried her from the room while she was still asleep.… The kettle began to puff clouds of steam. Danielle wasn't a deep sleeper.… But if she'd been drugged beforehand.… The kettle began to boil and like Newton discovering the power of steam, I knew. At long last a pattern had formed. Janet Grey's death, Ian Lyall's visit to the flats, the car accident and Ian's use of the car, his following us to Valldemossa, the Mogadon in Danielle's hot chocolate. Everything was clear. The difficulty was going to be convincing people I was right. Especially as I couldn't take Steve into my confidence. With things crystal clear in my mind I took a cup of tea into Peggy.

“What are you doing?” she asked as I picked up the telephone receiver and asked for a London number.

“I'm ringing Mr Van de Naude.”

She put her cup down suddenly, tea spilling on the pale cream carpet. “You can't do that! He'll be waiting to hear from the kidnappers! He'll be.…”

“It's important, Peggy.” The certainty I was now feeling must have showed itself in my voice. She sat silently, watching me. Eternities later an English voice said crisply: “Mr Van de Naude discharged himself today. I'm sorry, no, there is no forwarding address.”

I said slowly to Peggy: “He's not at the hospital anymore. He's discharged himself. Do you know what his London address will be?”

She shook her head. “He'll telephone here when he hears … if he hears.…” She began to cry again.

“Do you know the telephone number of APFO in London?”

“No, but it will be in Mrs Van de Naude's address book in her desk … but you can't go in there.…” She ran after me, seizing me by the arm with surprising strength. “ You're one of them, aren't you? That's why you want to speak to him! You're one of them!” her voice rose hysterically.

“Don't talk nonsense, Peggy.”

“I'm not. It's true! Mario said so. I heard him! Oh, you wicked, cruel.…”

I slapped her face hard and she fell back on the sofa.

“You're hysterical, Peggy. I love Danielle and you know it.”

She didn't answer, just sat in a huddled heap, crying noisily.

I searched Helena Van de Naude's desk thoroughly but found no trace of anything resembling an address book. It seemed to take forever for Continental Enquiries to give me APFO's London telephone number, and a further ten minutes agonising wait to be connected. It was all in vain. John Van de Naude had obviously given the same adamant instructions to APFO headquarters as he had to me.

There was only one thing for it. I would have to see Bradley Van de Naude. Peggy didn't even bother to lift her head up when I told her where I was going. She was still crying, her shoulders hunched, a fist pressed against her mouth. I watched her helplessly, not liking to leave her alone and yet not daring to risk a minute's delay in talking to Bradley Van de Naude. It was Leonie who came to my rescue.

She said from behind me: “You go off on your little errand, darling. I'll look after Peggy. There's nothing wrong with her a large brandy won't cure.”

“Thanks,” I said briefly. There was no emotion on her face. No concern or distress over Danielle's disappearance. She was as carefully dressed, as beautifully made-up as ever. She smiled lazily as she poured a brandy for Peggy and an even larger one for herself.

“I hope the son and heir will be suitably pleased to see you. I understand he has rather a bad headache at the moment.”

I didn't trust myself to answer her. There was too much I wanted to say to Leonie and it would all have to wait until Danielle was safely home again.

I drove furiously into Palma, heedless of the speed limit and with scant regard for other traffic. Now I knew who Danielle was with, one fear had been eliminated. Wherever she was, Danielle would not be frightened. Not yet.

Bradley Van de Naude regarded me with startled surprise as I burst into his room. I said briefly: “ Danielle has been kidnapped.”

“
What!
” he jerked himself upright in bed.

“Your father received a letter this morning in London and the kidnappers left one in her room last night. It was obviously planned some time ago.”

“How much?” he snapped, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his dressing-gown.

“It isn't money. They want to prevent your father becoming Premier of Ovambia. He's given us strict instructions to tell no-one. Not the police or the press or anyone.”

He stood up. “ He's giving in to the demands then?”

“Yes. He didn't actually
say
so, but what else can he do?”

“And my stepmother?”

“I haven't spoken to her.”

“I'll be five minutes. You can drive me back to the villa.”

“There's something else. I know who kidnapped her but I can't get through to your father.…”

“
You know what?
” his whole body tightened.

“It's Ian Lyall. He tried once before. He drugged her with Mogadon but it didn't work.”

“
Lyall?
” the smoke-blue eyes were incredulous. “Have you proof of this?”

“Steve Patterson has proof that her drinking chocolate was drugged. He's also found out that Ian Lyall was a regular visitor to the flats in Ria Square where Janet Grey died.”

“And?” he waited tensely.

“And I think something like this has been in the offing a long time. Ever since your father first made his decision to go back into politics. I think Janet Grey knew about it.”

A nurse came in, drowning us in a flood of Spanish.

“We'll talk in the car,” he said curtly. “I'll be five minutes.”

He wasn't. He was three. He slammed the passenger door shut and said. “Where is Lyall now?”

“He's supposed to be with your father in London.”

“And my father has no idea?”

“No. He left the hospital and I couldn't get hold of him at APFO headquarters.”

“If Lyall is in London your theory must be wrong. He couldn't possibly be responsible.”

“Not if he
is
in London,” I agreed. “ But I don't think he is. I think the telegram was a hoax. That's why we must get in touch with your father, to find out.”

We sped through the dusty suburbs of Palma and out past the airport.

He said grimly: “The sooner my father makes an announcement the better!” he glanced at his watch. “We should just be able to catch the news if we hurry.”

I put my foot down, tearing through a village and onto the mountain road. He sat quietly beside me, his face a chilly mask of suppressed emotion. He bore very little resemblance to his father. He was tall and leanly built. His fine hair almost girlish. The smoke-blue eyes gave no sign of his feelings. I felt that even in happier circumstances, Bradley Van de Naude would have none of his father's charm and geniality.

He said suddenly: “ Do Peggy and Mario know about Lyall?”

“No. Mario wouldn't believe me if I'd tried to tell him. He thinks I'm the one who's behaviour is suspect. He actually accused me of being one of the kidnappers!”

He gave a smile that held no warmth. “And now he's gone crashing round Majorca on a one man rescue operation?”

“He took the news very badly. He's devoted to Danielle. It would have been impossible for a man of his temperament to have sat still and simply waited.”