The Devil's Feather - Minette Walters [59]
Dan spoke for me. “Give her a break, Chas. She’s told you all she can. The men who took her from the taxi wore ski masks, and she was duct-taped and hooded from the off. When I found her, she’d been in darkness so long she couldn’t open her eyes…and that was less than four hours ago. Be grateful she agreed to talk at all. If I’d had my way, she’d have been on the first plane out and you’d have been asking London for information.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I don’t think you do. You heard the doc. He suggested a twenty-four-hour recuperation period before she answered questions, so letting London do the honours would have made more sense. You’d still have got your information…but the delay would have reduced its value. Connie understood that, which is why she’s here.”
“I do appreciate that, Dan, but, unfortunately, Connie hasn’t been able to tell us anything.” He shifted his attention to me. “Do you know if a video was made of you? The home movie seems to be the hostage-takers’ trademark…they want their fifteen minutes of fame just like Westerners do. Do you remember hearing a camera going?”
I managed to say “no,” and smile while I did it, but my heart was going like a hammer. The whole concept was too devastating to deal with. I could have maintained a pretence of dignity if there’d been no record of what I did. He took close-ups—“show you’re enjoying it, feather”—so there’d be an identifiable human face, even with taped eyes, on the obedient, rag-doll body.
What was he planning to do with the tape? How many people would see it? Was I recognizable as Connie Burns? Would Dan see it? My parents? My friends? My colleagues? All other invasions seemed trivial compared to a public unveiling in the Baghdad bazaars, or, worse, through al-Jazeera TV or the Internet. Is life worth living when you’ve had to beg for it? How do you function without self-esteem? How do you find the courage to go out?
“Why do you think you were released so rapidly, Connie? Dan’s told us he wasn’t involved in any negotiations because he didn’t know who was holding you. Nor did we…nor did any of the religious groups. So why did they let you go?”
“I don’t know.”
“The current average is two weeks. At the end of that time, depending on how much pressure has been brought to bear, hostages are either released or beheaded. We think most are being taken to Fallujah—or one of the other no-go areas—but you appear to have been held in Baghdad…then released after three days without any active intervention. It doesn’t fit the patterns we’ve seen, Connie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not blaming you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m trying to demonstrate why we need as much information as you can give us. Our only lead was your driver—and he’s vanished—so we’ve no idea what we’re dealing with here. It may be the beginning of a new pattern…or the emergence of a new group, whose only saving grace is that they haven’t learnt to kill yet.” He watched my eyes grow wider as Dan gave my shoulder a clumsy squeeze in solidarity. “Do you want someone else to suffer your fate, Connie?”
I couldn’t have spoken even if I’d wanted to.
“What sort of a question’s that?” asked Dan angrily. “You know damn well your chance of catching these bastards is zero. Zarqawi’s got a ten-million bounty on his head…and no one’s turned him in. If you increase it to twenty-five million, they still won’t. What can Connie tell you that’s going to change that?”
“Nothing, as far as Zarqawi’s concerned. I’m willing to accept she was taken for onward sale, but in that case why didn’t he buy her?” He held my gaze for a moment, then turned back to Dan. “There