Private London (Private 4)

‘What was the van like?’

Laura shrugged apologetically. ‘Just a black van. No windows. It looked quite new. A Ford, I guess.’

‘You didn’t get its number?’

Laura shook her head. ‘No. I don’t think there was a number plate.’ She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I can’t remember.’

An alarm went off from the next room. Shrill. Insistent. Laura looked across for a moment and then screamed.

Chapter 23

DI KIRSTY WEBB ran out of the room.

She was moved to the side and had to look through the window of the intensive-care room as the crash team went in.

The bed was disconnected from most of the monitoring equipment, turning it into a mobile gurney, and was wheeled out of the room.

Kirsty Webb looked at the unconscious woman who was in the bed. Half of her long dark hair had been shaved away and there was a thick padded bandage on the back of her skull.

Kirsty drew a sharp breath as the team hurried the woman towards theatre.

‘Shit!’ she said, not realising that she was speaking aloud.

‘What is it?’ the sergeant asked.

‘That girl …’

‘Boss?’

‘She’s not Chloe Wilson,’ she said simply and pulled out her mobile phone.

Chapter 24

I LOOKED AT the caller display on my mobile phone.

Whatever my ex-wife wanted to tell me it wasn’t going to be good news. I ignored the hostile glares from the other diners, then clicked the button.

‘Dan Carter,’ I said pretending not to know who was calling.

I listened to what Kirsty was saying for a moment and her words took a moment or two to register. I mumbled something or other thanking her for letting me know, and clicked the phone closed.

‘We have to leave,’ I said. I stood up, pulled out my wallet and chucked a bunch of fifty-pound notes on the table. Our main course hadn’t yet arrived but I had suddenly lost all appetite. I felt sick to my stomach. ‘Did you drive here?’ I asked Alison.

‘No. Strangely enough, I don’t usually order a bottle of champagne if I’m driving,’ she said dryly. ‘What’s going on?’

I shook my head and slipped my jacket on. ‘I need to get a taxi,’ I said simply.

Alison hurried after me and slid her arm through mine. ‘What’s wrong, Dan?’ she pressed, the concern clear in her voice.

‘Everything,’ I replied.

Chapter 25

I CURSED AS the taxi pulled to a stop at yet another traffic light.

I leaned back, closing my eyes. Willing my heart to beat slower. Thinking of the young girl I had fetched across the Atlantic to London.

The worst possible thing had happened. She’d been kidnapped on our watch. Taken by violent men. Had her cover been compromised? Was it a random attack?