скачать книгу бесплатно
‘But you didn’t actually see Adele in the car?’ Desmond asked.
‘No.’ Wiggs shook his head. ‘Still, what with the doll being there on the ground, well, I mean, I just thought she’d gone off in the car.’
Tessa took a deep breath, said in a worried voice, ‘Wiggs, please arrange for the grounds to be searched, and talk to Joe. He might know who was in the car. Maybe they’d been to see him about something – to do with the estate.’
‘I’ll get a search going, Miss Tessa, but there’s no way I can talk ter Joe. He’s gone ter East Witton. And I don’t think he’s coming back. Not just yet. But nobody coming ter see Joe would drive like that, not with all the notices we’ve got posted, warning everyone ter go slow because of the horses. No, whoever was in that black car, well, them there folk were proper strangers, not from these parts. Locals don’t go speeding around in cars when there’s horses all over the place.’
‘I agree,’ Desmond said. He dismounted, went to Tessa, put his arm around her shoulders, wanting to comfort her. He was as concerned about her as he was about the situation. And what ought they to do, aside from searching the grounds?
Emsie followed suit, expertly jumping down from her horse. Turning to Wiggs, she said, ‘Would you mind taking the horses to the stables, please? We’ll be there in a few minutes, Wiggs, to rub them down.’
‘Acourse I’ll tek ’em back, Emsie,’ he replied, accepting the reins from her, reaching for Desmond’s horse. ‘But the stable lads’ll look after ’em. You should both be with Tessa.’
Emsie smiled at him, a faltering smile, and he noticed that her face was as white as her half-sister’s. She looked frightened, as well. He patted the seventeen-year-old’s shoulder. ‘Try not to worry, lass. If she’s around here, we’ll find Adele.’
‘I hope she is just lost,’ Emsie murmured, biting her lip. ‘I hope that’s all it is.’
Wiggs hurried away with the horses, thinking that Mark Longden had most likely grabbed the child. The whole staff knew all about the upcoming divorce; there was a good bit of gossip about Longden. None of them liked him. He was the child’s father. Surely he wouldn’t harm her. But Longden was a bit of a bugger, so he’d heard. A boozer. Also on drugs. And a wife-beater. A man who struck a woman was a coward, a bully and a thug in his opinion.
Desmond and his sisters went into the house, and as they hurried through into the Stone Hall, he took hold of Tessa’s arm, and said, ‘Shall I get you a brandy? You look as if you’re about to pass out.’
‘No, thanks, Des. A cup of tea and an aspirin is what I want. I have a splitting headache. Let’s go to the kitchen.’
He nodded, and he and Emsie followed Tessa across the Stone Hall and down the corridor. Once inside the kitchen it was Emsie who filled the electric kettle with water, plugged it in, then found the brown teapot and three mugs in the cupboard.
Desmond and Tessa seated themselves at the round table in the bay window, and Desmond took hold of Tessa’s hand, hoping to reassure her. He started to speak but stopped, noting the preoccupied look on her face. He had always been sensitive to her moods, and he understood that at this moment she was trying to think things through.
At fifteen Desmond O’Neill was mature for his age, and looked older than his years. He was tall, over six feet, and powerfully built, a strapping young man with his father’s height, broad chest and wide shoulders; he also had Shane’s glamorous good looks. Hair and eyes the colour of jet stamped him Black Irish, and those in the know said that he was the spitting image of his great-grandfather Blackie O’Neill, long since dead, but well-remembered by many of the locals, friends and certain members of the three clans.
No one spoke. Emsie was busy making the tea, and Desmond was waiting for Tessa to relax, to say something. Only when Adele was found would his sister be at ease. She was a doting mother.
Tessa’s mind was racing, and she felt sick, anxiety-ridden for her child. She did not know what to do at this moment. How could she just sit and wait until Wiggs and the others searched the estate? That could take ages. And wasn’t time of the essence? If Adele was lost she would soon become frightened, and she might have an accident, could easily hurt herself. She wondered if she should go and join in the hunt for Adele? Could she have been grabbed by Mark? Did he have her? Or was Jonathan Ainsley behind this? She instantly pushed that thought to one side. The idea of Jonathan Ainsley being involved frightened her. If Mark did have their daughter, wouldn’t he call Pennistone Royal to speak to her? Certainly he would never hurt Adele, he adored the child. But he wasn’t himself these days, was he? Tessa shivered involuntarily.
Desmond noticed this, and said swiftly, in his most reassuring tone, ‘I’m sure she was in that car, Tess. Wiggs might not have noticed. I don’t think Adele is here, on the estate, lost somewhere, because Emsie and I would have spotted her on our way back. The only way to get to the fields is down the lane.’
Tessa did not respond.
Desmond remained silent himself, knowing Tessa in the way he did. Although his half-sister had a reputation in the family for being difficult, bossy and a snob, he knew another, very different side of her. He loved Tessa, and she loved him, and they had always been good friends; she wasn’t really the ogre some of the family made her out to be. At least not in his eyes.
Rousing herself from her thoughts, Tessa suddenly said, ‘I can’t help thinking as you do she probably was in that car, Des. You’re right. And she’s so little, she couldn’t have got very far.’
‘Who would take her without telling you –’ he cut himself off. His eyes met hers. ‘Mark Longden. Of course! You think he’s got her, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘So do I. That’s the answer.’
Emsie carried the tray of mugs and the teapot over to the table and as she put it down she said, ‘There’s no one else to point a finger at. He might be trying to get his own back because of your nasty divorce, or to make trouble, hurt you.’
‘Unless someone else has –’ Desmond paused, took a deep breath, and finished, ‘kidnapped her. For a ransom. This family’s always been the perfect target for something like that.’
‘I’ve considered the same thing. A kidnapping.’ Tessa closed her eyes once more and sat very still, trying to control her trembling. ‘That’s why I’ve got to be here, near the phone.’
She was so white and her tension was so marked Desmond was convinced she was about to faint at any moment. He wished Linnet were here, she’d know what to do. But would Tessa listen to her? They were often at loggerheads.
Emsie looked across at her brother and her eyes caught his as she poured tea into his mug. These two had always been perfectly in tune with each other. At seventeen she was two years older than Desmond, yet it was he who was protective of her; they loved each other and were best friends. Like Desmond, Emsie was obviously Black Irish. She had inherited the striking O’Neill colouring – glossy dark hair and eyes as black and shiny as coal.
Silently, she mouthed, ‘Linnet. We need Linnet.’
Desmond nodded, looked across at Tessa, waiting.
Despite her fragile appearance and her delicate beauty, Tessa Fairley Longden had a great deal of inner strength and an enormous amount of resilience. As she often said, she was not Emma Harte’s great-granddaughter for nothing; there was a certain toughness about her and she had a fair amount of determination.
Pulling herself together finally, she opened her eyes and sat up a little straighter in the chair. ‘Thanks for the tea, Emsie,’ she murmured and took a long swallow of the brew. After a moment’s thought, she glanced at the wall clock, continued, ‘It’s almost eleven here. Six o’clock in the morning in New York. No use phoning Mummy and Shane –’
Emsie cut in somewhat peremptorily: ‘They’ll still be asleep. What about talking to your solicitor?’
‘No, no!’ Tessa exclaimed, and gave Emsie a hard stare. ‘You know very well what the family rules are. We deal with everything ourselves, for as long as possible, and with the help of the other clans if necessary. But no outsiders can be involved. Unless we have no other choice.’
‘You ought to call Linnet immediately,’ Desmond suggested, glancing quickly at Emsie, hoping Tessa wouldn’t bite his head off. The strained relationship between his sisters often presented problems. Both wanted to run Harte’s one day. But Linnet was the smartest in the family, other than his parents; he believed she was the best person to take charge in the absence of their mother and father.
Surprisingly, Tessa was not upset by his suggestion. Jumping up, she hurried over to the phone on the counter. ‘I think I’d better do that, Desmond. Right away.’
Tessa was aware that Linnet had planned to come up to Pennistone Royal either today or tomorrow, and so instead of ringing Harte’s in London she dialled her sister on her mobile; Linnet was probably on the road already, driving to Yorkshire. It was answered almost at once with a crisp, ‘Linnet O’Neill.’
‘It’s Tessa. I’ve got a problem here.’
‘At the Harrogate store?’ Linnet sounded surprised.
‘No. At home. At Pennistone Royal.’
‘A problem there! What’s happened?’
‘It’s Adele. She’s vanished. I can’t find her, and I’m frantic. I think it could be Mark’s doing.’ Tessa’s voice trembled and she swallowed hard.
‘If you think it’s Mark then it is,’ Linnet exclaimed. ‘Stay calm, I’m about an hour away. Don’t call the police yet. We can deal with this ourselves.’
‘I know the rules. Listen, Desmond thinks it could be a genuine kidnapping. For a ransom.’
‘Oh my God! Let’s hope not. Tell me exactly what happened.’
Tessa did as her sister asked.
When Tessa finished, Linnet said, ‘The phone calls were to distract you. It’s Mark who’s behind this, I’m absolutely positive. You’re right about that. Still, I’m glad Wiggs is searching the grounds. She could have strayed away from the house, but she couldn’t have gone far. Who’s there with you?’
‘Just Desmond and Emsie. It’s Elvira’s day off, and Margaret went out shopping. And Joe’s gone to East Witton.’
‘Desmond’s pretty reliable and responsible. So is Emsie. I’m glad they’re there. Where’s Evan?’
‘I don’t know. I saw her drive off several hours ago.’
‘I’m sure she’ll soon return. Now, stay there by the phone and if Mark calls tell him to bring Adele back immediately. Be firm with him but civil. Try not to have a row.’
‘What if he wants to bargain with me? What if he wants something?’
‘Promise him anything. Just get that child back in your arms. Mark can be dealt with later.’
‘All right. But what if it’s not Mark? What if it really is a kidnapping, and they call, making demands?’
‘Listen to them. Agree to their demands, but explain it’s going to take you a while to get money together. Because I’m sure they’ll be asking for money … that’s what most kidnappings are about.’
‘I understand.’
‘Tessa?’
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing’s going to happen to Adele.’
‘But –’
‘I promise,’ Linnet cut in. ‘Don’t go into the grounds. You must be there to answer the phone. See you soon.’ With that she clicked off her mobile.
As soon as she saw a lay-by Linnet O’Neill pulled over and parked. She sat for a moment thinking about her sister’s phone call and Adele’s disappearance. She was filled with dismay, and extremely angry. I always knew that bastard wouldn’t go quietly, she thought, her mind zeroing in on Mark Longden. She had never liked him, had always believed him to be avaricious, ambitious, self-promoting. Years ago she had characterized him as a gold-digger who was after Tessa’s money, not to mention her prestige as a Harte; she had never quite understood why such a beautiful and clever young woman as her sister had married him. And he wasn’t a very good architect in her opinion, whatever others thought.
Their mother had told her recently that Mark Longden had physically and mentally abused Tessa, and much to her astonishment she had discovered she hadn’t been in the least bit surprised. She had always been aware that underneath his smarmy, phoney charm he was a nasty piece of work.
Linnet sat thinking about Adele’s sudden disappearance, and she realized she did not believe for one moment that the child had been kidnapped by strangers for ransom. She felt, deep within herself, that it was Mark Longden who had snatched his own child. Her gut instinct told her that it was a form of blackmail. He wanted something from the Hartes, and he was using his little daughter as a bargaining tool. The bastard, she muttered again, and cursed him under her breath.
‘“Everybody has a price and it isn’t always money,” that’s what Emma used to say to me,’ her mother had once told her, and Linnet had never forgotten those words. They were absolutely true. When it came right down to it, everybody had some kind of vulnerability, something they wanted to protect at any price, and very often money never came into play at all. There were other currencies for dealing.
From remarks her mother had made recently, Linnet knew that Mark Longden was not only drinking very heavily these days, but was also on drugs. It had troubled her then; it was certainly more worrying now. A man under the influence could easily become irresponsible, even erratic, and quite possibly violent – and therefore dangerous. She was fairly certain that Mark wouldn’t intentionally hurt his only child. But what if something went wrong with him, or others, and in the process Adele got hurt, albeit inadvertently?
It suddenly struck Linnet that thoughts of a similar nature must have occurred to Tessa. Never before had she heard her sister sound so vulnerable, nervous, and at such a loss about what to do than she had a few minutes ago. It seemed to her that the child’s abduction, because that was what it was, had rendered Tessa helpless.
Normally Tessa was a take-charge person who wanted to be top dog, so that she could run everything and boss everyone around. And very often, because of Tessa’s ambition to be their mother’s heir-apparent, the Dauphine as she called herself, Tessa and she had locked horns. But there was a family rule that went all the way back to Emma Harte and her brothers, and it had never been broken. No matter what the circumstances, a Harte was always loyal to a Harte. They had been brought up to stand strong and steady together in a fight, to defend each other against the world. To kill for each other, to take the bullet for each other, if necessary. Linnet knew all the Harte rules by heart and lived by them.
The child was Tessa’s vulnerable spot; Linnet was well aware of her sister’s deep and unwavering love for her child. The entire family loved Adele. The three-year-old girl was like a Botticelli angel, with her silver-gilt hair, silvery-grey eyes, and her exquisite little face. Beautiful and endearing, with genuine sweetness, she had touched them all in different ways. Linnet thought of Adele as one of those rare golden children, unique, almost spiritual. God forbid anything happened to her.
How to solve this dilemma? What to do? Linnet asked herself. And where to begin? Start driving for one thing, she decided, rousing herself from her myriad thoughts, releasing the brake and slowly pulling out onto the motorway.
Linnet knew she had to handle this. The very fact that Tessa had turned to her made her truly understand that her sister accepted that she herself was far too emotional to cope with the situation. I’ve got to deal with it fast, Linnet thought. Very fast. Today. It can’t be allowed to drag on. I’ve got to find Mark. Find that child. Immediately. Before anything goes wrong.
There really was only her. Her parents were in New York with Aunt Emily and Uncle Winston, which meant the four senior and most powerful members of the Harte family were out of action for the moment.
Gideon Harte? She thought of her cousin, her best friend, for a moment. He could be extremely helpful. He ran the Harte newspapers, was brilliant and street-wise, and he had every kind of resource at his disposal. Owning and running an international newspaper chain spelled one thing. Power. Immense power. Yes, she might have to pull Gideon into this, but right now what she really needed was an expert. A genuine professional. A policeman who wasn’t actually a policeman.
Jack Figg.
The name leapt into her mind at once. Harte’s security adviser, he was considered a member of the family. She had known him since childhood, thought of him as a pal. And so the moment she saw another lay-by ahead, Linnet pulled in and parked. Reaching for her hold-all, she groped around in it for her address book, and quickly found his name.
A few seconds later she was dialling Jack’s mobile number.
‘Figg here,’ he answered almost at once.
‘It’s Linnet, Jack.’
‘Hello, Beauty. What do you need?’
‘You, Jack. Please.’
‘I’m yours,’ he laughed, ‘anytime you want me.’
‘Remember what you said at Shane’s birthday party in June – that I could count on you in an emergency?’
‘I do. And you can.’
‘Thanks, Jack. There’s an emergency.’
‘Tell me everything I need to know.’
She did so, and gave him her own thoughts about what had happened.
‘The phone calls were meant to distract her, keep her busy. Where are you now, Linnet?’
‘Parked in a lay-by, about an hour away from Pennistone Royal. Are you in Robin Hood’s Bay?’
‘No, I’m outside York Minster with a friend. If I leave York now I’ll probably arrive at the house the same time as you. I’ll meet you there. But please tell Tessa you’ve asked me to help. Just in case I arrive before you.’
‘I will. And thanks, Jack.’
‘Anything for you, Beauty.’
He was gone, and she was back on the motorway, picking up speed as she gunned the car forward, streaking along the empty road. There was hardly any traffic at the moment, and that was something in her favour at least.
Linnet concentrated on driving for the next twenty minutes or so, and then, slowing down, she phoned Tessa at Pennistone Royal. Her sister said there was nothing new, and no sign of Adele. Wiggs and his search party were still looking. Linnet told her about Jack Figg, and his imminent arrival, and fortunately met no resistance from Tessa.
A few seconds later she punched in Evan’s mobile number, but it was turned off. No doubt Evan was with Uncle Robin, whom she had been wanting to talk to for several weeks. Linnet thought suddenly of her cousin India Standish. India had gone up to Leeds from London very early that morning, to start working on plans for revamping the store. Linnet was close to her cousin. In fact everyone in the family loved India. She had an understanding heart, was kind, with a loving nature. Many thought she was delicate, even frail, but her elegant aristocratic looks inherited from the Fairleys belied her character.
Linnet knew she was practical, down to earth, strong physically, and that, like their great-grandmother Emma Harte, she was absolutely fearless. India worked with her in the fashion department of Harte’s in London, and they had been close friends since childhood. India had grown up on her father’s estate Clonloughlin in Ireland, but she had spent every summer at Pennistone Royal. And Linnet loved to boast of some of India’s brave deeds as a child … like the time she rushed out into the backyard at Pennistone Royal wearing huge oven gloves in order to separate two dogs fighting over the dead body of a rabbit. Or the day Linnet’s little sister Emsie had climbed into the big oak and got stuck in the upper branches. Undeterred by Linnet’s warning that they would both fall out of the tree, India had climbed up it, had sat with Emsie, stopped her wailing and held her tightly until Linnet had come back with Joe, the estate-manager, carrying a tall orchard ladder.
Yes, Linnet decided, India would be helpful in this situation, and she got on well with the sometimes difficult Tessa.
India would be staying at Pennistone Royal for the next few days, as she usually did. I’d better warn her about the situation there, Linnet thought, tell her what’s happened, before she goes over there later. She dialled her cousin, and waited patiently as the mobile rang and rang.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3dc2c249-327d-58b2-8ed0-6c1f8e731cde)
‘That’s your phone ringing, not mine,’ Russell ‘Dusty’ Rhodes said, looking across at India, who stood next to the window.
