Private London

Chapter 79

Chloe, Laura and Hannah all shared a three-bed apartment in a student-accommodation block.

I nodded at the security guard we’d had placed at the entrance to the building. She wasn’t in uniform and I was discreet about it. The authorities still didn’t know that we had Hannah back safe and we wanted to keep it that way. Time enough for explanations and recriminations later.

Priority one was getting Harlan Shapiro back. His daughter’s rooms were on the ground floor. I keyed in the entrance code at the door and walked into a brightly lit warm corridor with rugs on the floor, flowers on a side table and modern artwork on either wall between the doors to the student apartments. To the right as I walked in was the students’ kitchen. Far fancier than the one I remembered from my student days.

Sitting at the table was Suzy, drinking a cup of tea, and Sam Riddel doing likewise. Herbal for him, no doubt.

I threw Suzy a slightly critical look. ‘I thought I said to stay with Hannah?’

‘She had a visitor.’

‘Laura?’

‘No.’

I knew they hadn’t let Chloe out. I had the hospital on speed-dial. With Chloe things were going well. They were talking of moving her out of intensive care. Which was good. But no way were they letting her home yet. Which was bad.

I snapped back to the present. ‘So who?’

‘Her tutor. Professor Kidman.’

I smiled, briefly. Not like Suzy to be jealous. But then I realised she wasn’t being jealous. It was a good call – the professor did look like the actress.

‘Annabelle,’ I said.

‘Annabelle?’

‘How did she know?’

‘I guess Hannah called her.’

‘You let her use the phone?’

‘Didn’t say not to,’ Sam joined in.

They were right. I hadn’t. ‘Could make things complicated, word gets out,’ I said.

Suzy smiled, but her eyes were deadpan. ‘Maybe you could have a word with Annabelle? Buy us some time.’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

I knocked on the door and, after a pause, walked in. Hannah was dressed in a bathrobe. Her hair was wet.

She was being hugged by Professor Weston who smiled gratefully at me as I entered. Hannah didn’t move for a while, her head nestled against the older woman’s shoulder.

Annabelle gave her back a reassuring pat. Like a surrogate mother, which I guess she was in some ways. Apart from her age. A surrogate older sister, maybe.

‘Thanks for bringing her back to us,’ Annabelle said.

‘De nada,’ I replied. And I was right, it was nothing. All I’d achieved was to swap one hostage for another and pay the kidnappers five million pounds for the privilege.

Hannah straightened herself and moved away from the professor. ‘Thank you, Mister Carter,’ she said.

‘I told you, it’s Dan. And you can thank me when I get your dad back home.’

Hannah nodded and, although her face had been scrubbed clean and glowed once more with the innocence of youth, there was still a deep sadness in her eyes.

‘So, what brings you here, Mister Carter?’ asked the professor.

‘I think we have a lead.’

‘Really?’

‘A witness.’