you. Please, please bring her back to me. For the child’s sake.’
‘I told you, I don’t have her!’
‘Yes, you do. Don’t play games with me, Mark.’
There was a silence and she wondered if she had lost him, been cut off, when he suddenly spoke again.
He said, ‘You won’t get her back until you meet my terms.’
‘Anything you want,’ she said swiftly, relief flooding through her. Obviously, he did have Adele.
‘Joint custody, for starters,’ Mark intoned.
‘The solicitors will work all that out. But you can have the house in Hampstead, the cars, a financial settlement, as you wanted.’
‘Joint custody,’ he repeated, icy cold.
Jack’s cell phone began to ring and he switched it on, walked closer to the window, speaking into it as he did.
Tessa’s eyes followed Jack; she said into the phone, ‘The solicitors will have to get together to work things out.’ She took a deep breath and against her better judgement added, ‘If not joint custody then certainly a lot of access.’
Suddenly Jack was hurrying towards her across the library, a grim smile on his face. He took the receiver from her unceremoniously, and said, ‘Jack Figg here. I’ve just been speaking to the North Yorkshire police on the other line. They are on their way to pick you up. We know you are at the Spa Hotel in Ripon with Adele. Registered under the name of William Stone.’
Jack paused when he heard the surprised intake of breath at the other end of the phone. ‘If you leave now you can be here at Pennistone Royal in half an hour, and deal with me. Or you can wait for the police to pick you up within the next fifteen minutes. Your choice, mate.’
‘I’m leaving now,’ Mark said abruptly, the bluster gone from his voice all of a sudden.
‘With Adele?’
‘Yes, I’m bringing her,’ Mark mumbled and clicked off.
Jack replaced the receiver and looked at Tessa, a triumphant gleam in his light-grey eyes. ‘That was one of my operatives on my mobile a moment ago. When he discovered that a man with a little girl was staying at the Spa in Ripon he double-checked with a contact he has there. The name William Stone didn’t ring a bell with Pete, but he thought he’d better tell me, and of course I knew it was Mark at once.’
‘Thank God!’ Tessa reached out, touched Jack’s arm. ‘I feel as though I’m going to faint with relief that she’s coming home. Thanks, Jack, thank you so much.’
In a sudden spontaneous gesture, Jack stepped closer, pulled her into his arms and hugged her to him. ‘Before you can say Jack Robinson you’ll have Adele back with you. Now, come on, we’ve quite a lot to do before he arrives.’
Tessa nodded and then promptly burst into tears, sobbing as if her heart would break. ‘It’s relief,’ he said to her gently, and led her over to the sofa. Looking at India he went on, ‘It’s a normal reaction, she’s been pent up with tension all day. Sit with her, look after her, she’ll be fine soon.’
Beckoning to Desmond and Emsie, Jack continued, ‘I need you two to do a couple of things for me.’
‘Yes, Jack!’ Desmond exclaimed, instantly jumping off the fender, rushing over to Jack, with Emsie following in his wake.
‘What do you need us to do?’ Emsie asked when they came to a stop near the Georgian desk. Her face was eager, her dark eyes bright with earnestness.
‘Desmond, please go and find Wiggs and tell him that Adele should be back within half an hour. But don’t say anything else, and don’t mention Mark. Okay?’
Desmond nodded, and then volunteered, ‘And Jack, when you talk to Mums, tell her we need to do something about security here. Anybody can come and go as they please.’
‘I’ve made a note to do that, Desmond. I’ve a plan for a proper security system in the works,’ Jack replied, and then looked at Emsie, smiled at her. ‘Go and tell Margaret and Joe that Adele is coming back soon, and please ask Margaret to bring in some ice and a tray of drinks. I certainly need a vodka and I’m sure everyone else wants something, too.’
The two youngsters hurried out, and Linnet walked across to Jack and hugged him. ‘Thanks Jack, thanks for everything you’ve done.’ Her face was ringed in smiles.
‘Thanks not necessary, Beauty.’ He stared at her intently, said in a low voice, ‘I pushed it a bit, but I felt I was doing the right thing. Thank God it worked out all right. Mark became scared when I said the police were on the way. It sobered him up.’
‘Why? Was he drunk?’ Linnet asked swiftly, raising a brow.
‘Just a manner of speaking.’
‘Had you called the North Yorkshire police, Jack, or were you bluffing?’
‘Bluffing, Beauty. But when Pete, my operative checking the local hotels, mentioned the name William Stone I remembered what you’d told me about Mark using that name as a pseudonym for his client Jonathan Ainsley.’
‘I’m glad I told you.’
He smiled, went to the desk, sat down, looked at the pad where he had made voluminous notes.
A moment later Evan was standing in front of the desk, and he glanced up, his eyes questioning.
‘Thanks for being such a calming influence, Jack. Would it be all right if I told Robin that Jonathan is in Hong Kong? He was wondering where his son was when I had lunch with him today. It will ease his mind knowing Jonathan’s not in the country.’
‘By all means. Be my guest, Evan.’
A moment later Linnet and Evan went to sit with Tessa and India, gently talking to Tessa, reassuring her that everything was going to be all right. She accepted their words, their kindness, their reassurances, and tried to smile, tried to bring herself back to a normal state. But the tension was deeply imbedded in her, and she was also aware that her life had been changed forever by the events of the day. She also knew that no easing of her pain would come until her child was safely by her side.
Gideon Harte sat at his desk in the offices of the Yorkshire Consolidated Newspaper Company, in South East London, not far from the famed Fleet Street of yesteryear. Although the renowned street of ink was still there, many of the great national daily newspapers had moved to quarters elsewhere as the Hartes’ newspaper company had.
Overlooking a portion of the Thames, Gideon’s office was spacious, light-filled and airy, with lots of plate-glass windows, shaded by silver metal-mesh panels. It was discreetly decorated in shades of white and grey, and there were lots of books banked in low-slung black-lacquered shelves that rode across a long back wall. His black-lacquered desk was empty, the way he liked it, with a few memos in simple black trays, a dictionary, a thesaurus, and antique crystal inkpots on a silver tray.
Pushing his chair back, Gideon lifted his feet to the desk and leaned back in the chair, watching the large modern clock on the wall straight ahead. Once the hands hit six forty-five
