Deception on His Mind (Inspector Lynley, #9)(218)

“What do you …?” Belinda clearly was looking for direction.

“I'll see to him,” Emily snapped.

Barbara followed her. They took the corridor and the stairs at a trot. On the ground floor, Taymullah Azhar paced the reception cubicle.

“Barbara!” he cried as he caught sight of their approach. All effort at obfuscation dissolved in a moment of what was clearly panic. His face was frantic. “Barbara, she's gone. He's taken Hadiyyah.”

? ? ?


“CHRIST,” BARBARA SAID, and she meant it as a prayer. “Azhar, what? Jesus. Are you sure?”

“I went back to the hotel. I'd finished here. Mr. Treves told me. Mrs. Porter was with her. She remembered him from the other night. She'd seen us together. You remember. In the bar. She thought it was all arranged …” He was two steps away from hyperventilating.

Impulsively, Barbara put an arm round his shoulders. “We'll get her,” she said, squeezing him hard. “Azhar, we'll get her. I swear it. I promise you we'll get her back.”

“What the hell is going on?” Emily demanded.

“Hadiyyah's his daughter. She's eight years old. Muhannad's taken her. Obviously, she thought it was okay to go with him.”

“She knows never to go,” Azhar said. “A stranger. She knows that. Never. Never,”

“Except Muhannad isn't a stranger to her,” Barbara reminded him. “Not any longer. She told him she wanted to meet his wife and his children. Remember, Azhar? You heard her when she said it. So did I. And you had no reason to think …” She felt the agitated need to absolve him of the guilt that she knew he was feeling. But she couldn't do it. This was his child.

“What the hell is this?” Emily demanded once again.

“I told you. Hadiyyah—”

“I don't give a f*ck for Hadiyyah, whoever she is. D'you know these people, Sergeant Havers? And if so, exactly how many of them do you know?”

Barbara saw her error. It lay in her arm that still encompassed Azhar's shoulders. It lay in the knowledge which she'd just revealed herself to possess. Frantically, she cast through her mind for something to say, but there was nothing but the truth to offer and no time to explain it.

Azhar spoke again. “He asked her if she liked the sea. Mrs. Porter heard that much. ‘D'you like the sea? Shall we have ourselves a sea adventure?’ He said that as they were walking off. Mrs. Porter heard. Barbara, he's taken—”

“Good Christ. A boat.” Barbara's glance flew to Emily. There was no time either to explain or to placate. She knew where Muhannad Malik had gone. She knew what he planned. “He's taken a boat from the Balford Marina. From East Essex Boat Hire, just like before. Hadiyyah thinks it's a day cruise on the North Sea. But he's heading for the continent. He has to be. It's crazy. It's too far. But that's what he's doing. Because of Hamburg. Because of Reuchlein. And Hadiyyah's his insurance that we don't stop him. We need the Coast Guard after him, Em.”

Emily Barlow didn't reply in words. But her answer was written upon her features, and what her features were saying had nothing to do with tracking a killer across the sea. The realisation of Barbara's deception was playing over her face, thinning her lips and tightening her jaw.

“Em,” Barbara said, frantic to get them past the moment. “I know them from London. Azhar. Hadiyyah. That's it. That's all. For God's sake, Em—”

“I can't believe it.” Emily's eyes seemed to burn into hers. “You of all people.”

“Barbara …” Azhar's voice was anguished.

“I didn't know you were in charge of the case until I got to Balford,” Barbara said.

“You were out of line no matter who was in charge.”

“Okay. I know it. I was out of line.” In agitation, Barbara sought something to move the DCI into action. “Em, I wanted to keep them out of trouble. I was worried about them.”

“And I played into your hands, didn't I?”

“What I did was wrong. I should have told you. You can make a report to my super if you want. But later. Later.”

“Please.” Azhar spoke the word like a prayer.

“So f*cking unprofessional, Havers.” It was as if the DCI hadn't heard a word.

“Yes. All right,” Barbara said. “Unprofessional. Unprofessional as hell. But the way I did my job's not the point. We need the Coast Guard if we want to nab Muhannad. Now, Em. We need the Coast Guard now.”

No response from the DCI.

“Jesus, Em,” Barbara finally cried. “Is this about murder, or is this about you?”

The final remark was manipulative and rotten, and Barbara despised herself the moment she said it. But the implied judgement achieved the response that Barbara sought.

Emily shot a look at Azhar, then another at Barbara. Then she took up the reins of the case.

“The Coast Guard's no good to us.” And without further explanation, she spun round and strode towards the back of the station.

Barbara said, “Come on,” and grabbed Azhar's arm.

Emily paused at the door of a room filled with computers and communication equipment. She said tersely, “Get on to PC Fogarty. Send the ARV to Balford Marina. Our man's on the sea, and he's taken a hostage. Tell Fogarty I want a Glock 17 and an MP5.”