Dead Centre - Andy McNab [56]
There was more waffle. He sounded as calm as if he was ordering a takeaway from the boys with the white trainers. Then he passed the phone across to me. ‘It’s a message for you, Nick. Don’t talk, just listen.’
I put it to my ear. The line was terrible. In among the crackling I could hear birds sing. A vehicle rumbled past. Then I heard a woman’s voice. ‘Yes – yes, of course I will …’
There was a rustling sound, and then a sniff. ‘In here?’
I couldn’t help myself. ‘Tracy, it’s Nick …’
Nadif waved a hand. ‘She cannot hear you, Nick. You are listening to a message.’
Her voice was flat and dull. It was obvious she was reading. ‘Help me. I am very sick. My health is deteriorating markedly due to fever and dysentery. I need to see a doctor. They will not give any of us the medicine. I have a toothache. My tooth is badly broken and very infected and abscessed. I need help immediately. Please.’
It sounded like one of those Nigerian email scams.
She didn’t stop there. ‘My son has severe stomach problems. There is no one to take care of him. I don’t want him to die here. Please do not let my son die here. I’m so afraid I will die of diseases if I don’t get help soon. I don’t know how much longer we can bear this. Someone, please help us. Please.’
Her voice quavered. ‘The men who hold us are very serious and they say that, if the ransom is not paid, they will kill all three of us. But I’m telling you, our conditions are very serious right now and we could very seriously die of an illness. My son, Stefan, might die. Justin might die. We’re very sick people.’
There were a few mumbles from whoever was holding the mike and I could hear the rustling as it was taken away from her. There was a click, and Nadif held out his hand. ‘Please, Nick. Thank you.’
They exchanged a few more words and the line went dead. He put the phone down and sighed theatrically. He looked at me like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. ‘Nick, these are dangerous people. I can help you, but you must get the money. Somehow, please.’ He put his hands together again, as if he was praying. ‘My friend, I have done my part. I will make sure that you get to talk to her tomorrow. I will organize this. Are you now going to show some more good faith, Nick? I am helping you. Now you have got to help me. They must be paid so your loved ones are free.’
He stood up and rummaged in a pocket for a business card. Like Frank’s, the only thing on it was a mobile number. Unlike Frank’s, you could help yourself to twenty of these for two quid at your local motorway service station.
‘I can help you, Nick. But you have to help me to stop those crazy people from hurting your loved ones. Go home and call me tomorrow at midday. I will have some good news, I promise.’
19
I FOUND THE number for a minicab firm outside the railway station. Fifty minutes later I was rattling round the ring road in the 911, following signs for the bridge. I hit the Bluetooth and synched up the iPhone, checking the occasional set of headlights in the rear-view.
I rehearsed tomorrow’s speech to Nadif in my head. I’d be phoning with good news. I could raise maybe thirty thousand dollars within the next couple of days. How was that for good faith? Very soon, my very small flat would go on the market, even though I’d only just bought it.
I’d be able to make some money, I’d tell him, but I had a mortgage of just over £100K to repay. I should be able to clear another £45K, but the way the market was, it would take time. Maybe I could try to remortgage. Janet and Justin’s families were working hard to raise money. I was showing trust; I was showing commitment. I would get the money together, come what may.
In the meantime, I really needed Nadif to keep them alive. I needed him to let me speak to them. A man with his influence must be able to help me do those things.
My Breitling had me coming out of the city and onto the motorway at just past five a.m. I dialled Frank, expecting him to be engaged. Ant and Dec would be phoning about now to say I was heading back towards