Whiteout - Ken Follett [139]
Elton brought Ned and Tom into the kitchen at gunpoint. Ned was bleeding from several places on his face, and Tom was bruised and crying, but they were walking steadily, Ned holding Tom’s hand.
Kit reckoned up who was still at large. Sophie had run away, and Craig would not be far from her. Caroline was probably still asleep in the barn. Then there was Toni Gallo. Four people, three of them children—surely it could not take long to capture them? But time was running out. Kit and the gang had less than two hours to get to the airfield with the virus. Their customer would not wait very long, Kit guessed. If something seemed wrong he would fear a trap and leave.
Elton threw Miranda’s phone onto the kitchen table. “Found it in a handbag in the cottage,” he said. “The guy doesn’t seem to have one.” The phone landed beside the perfume spray. Kit longed for the moment when the bottle would be handed over, never to be seen again, and he would get his money.
He was hoping that the major roads would be cleared of snow by the end of today. He planned to drive to London and check into a small hotel, paying cash. He would lie low for a couple of weeks, then catch a train to Paris with fifty thousand pounds in his pocket. From there he would make his leisurely way across Europe, changing small amounts of money as he needed it, and end up in Lucca.
But first, they had to account for everyone here at Steepfall, in order to delay pursuit. And it was proving absurdly difficult.
Elton made Ned lie on the floor, then tied him up. Ned was quiet but watchful. Nigel tied Tom, who was still sniveling. When Elton opened the pantry door to put them inside, Kit saw to his surprise that the prisoners had managed to remove their gags.
Olga spoke first. “Please, let Hugo out of here,” she said. “He’s badly injured and he’s so cold. I’m afraid he’ll die. Just let him lie on the floor in the kitchen, where it’s warm.”
Kit shook his head in amazement. Olga’s loyalty to her unfaithful husband was incomprehensible.
Nigel said, “He shouldn’t have punched me in the face.”
Elton pushed Ned and Tom into the pantry with the others.
Olga said, “Please, I’m begging you!”
Elton closed the door.
Kit put Hugo out of his mind. “We’ve got to find Toni Gallo, she’s the dangerous one.”
Nigel said, “Where do you think she is?”
“Well, she’s not in the house, not in the cottage because Elton’s just searched it, and not in the garage because Daisy’s just been there. So either she’s out of doors, where she won’t last long without a coat, or she’s in the barn.”
“All right,” Elton said. “I’ll go to the barn.”
***
TONI was looking out of the barn window.
She had now identified three of the four people who had raided the Kremlin. One was Kit, of course. He would have been the planner, the one who told them how to defeat the security system. There was the woman whom Kit had called Daisy—an ironic nickname, presumably, for someone whose appearance would give a vampire a fright. A few minutes ago, in the prelude to the fracas in the courtyard, Daisy had addressed the young black man as Elton, which might be a first name or a surname. Toni had not yet seen the fourth, but she knew that his name was Nigel, for Kit had shouted to him in the hall.
She was half-scared and half-thrilled. Scared, because they were clearly tough professional criminals who would kill her if necessary, and because they had the virus. Thrilled, because she was tough, too, and she had a chance to redeem herself by catching them.
But how? The best plan would be to get help, but she had no phone and no car. The house phones had been cut off, presumably by the gang. No doubt they had also grabbed any mobile phones lying around. What about cars? Toni had seen two parked in front of the house, and there must be at least one more in the garage, but she had no idea where the keys were.
That meant she had to capture the