The Bombmaker by Stephen Leather Read Free Book Online Page B

Martin. 'It won't be much longer, I'm sure.
    They must want to get this over with as quickly as we do.'
    'Oh God, I hope so.'
    'Try to get some sleep, okay?'
    'I'll try.' She sniffed again. 'I wonder how they're treating Katie. She'll be so scared.'
    'I'm sure they'll be taking good care of her. They won't hurt her. Everything they're doing depends on us getting her back safely. Try not to worry. I know that's an impossible thing to ask,
    but try.'
    'I'll try. I have to check out at nine. I'll try to call you later in the day.'
    Martin said goodbye and replaced the receiver. A van? What the hell did they want her to get into a van for? Martin had been doing his best to keep his wife's spirits up, but he knew that she was right. This was about more than money. But what?
    Egan replayed the tape of the conversation between Andrea Hayes and her husband. He frowned as he listened, but by the time he had played it through to the end he was smiling to himself. Andrea had said nothing that could jeopardise the operation. If anything, the conversation would make the Hayes woman more compliant. Her husband had been reassuring.
    Soothing, even.
    Egan had half expected the Hayes woman to call her husband. At this stage, he wanted their full co-operation, and that meant keeping their stress levels as low as possible. If the notes had insisted that there be no contact, there was a chance that one or the other might panic and call in the police. The phone call also gave Egan an insight into how they were thinking. They were scared for their daughter, but it was clear that they were going to do everything that was asked of them.
    They still believed that the kidnapping was money-motivated.
    By the time they realised what was really going on, it would be too late.
    43

The Bombmaker
    DAY THREE
    Andy stood in the middle of the hotel room, looking around.
    She had to do something. She had to let Martin know what was happening. She'd wanted to say more to him on the phone the previous night, but couldn't take the risk that someone had been listening in. But now she was preparing to check out of the hotel, and she realised that it might be the last opportunity she had to get a message to her husband. She had to let him know where she was going, because if anything went wrong it might be the only way he could find out where Katie was. She thought of leaving a message in the room, but even if she addressed it to Martin the chambermaid might open it, and if she realised its significance she'd probably pass it on to the police. And there was a possibility that the people who had kidnapped Katie might be preparing to search her room after she checked out. If they found a letter, there was no saying what they might do to Katie.
    Above the writing desk was a framed watercolour of a gondola on a canal, the colours all hazy as if viewed through a mist. Andy stared at the picture. There had to be something she could do to let Martin know where she was going. Suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do. She sat down at the desk and opened the leather writing folder that was embossed with the hotel's name. There were several sheets of writing paper, and a .;3> ballpoint pen. She began to write furiously.
    ;?£ It was just after nine when she walked up to the cashier's desk. A blonde receptionist with shocking-pink lipstick and 45 STEPHEN LEATHER matching nail varnish took her credit card and printed o.ut a copy of the bill. 'Anything from the mini-bar?' she asked, and Andy shook her head. She pretended to check the print-out while she had a quick look around to see if anyone was looking at her. An old couple were sitting on a sofa close to the door, and half a dozen Japanese tourists were pulling brochures off a rack. A businessman in a dark blue suit was checking in, his briefcase at his feet like an attentive Labrador, and a woman in a fur coat was using one of the house phones. No one appeared to be paying Andy any attention. She slid an envelope from