Romanian stood on the pavement, flanked by two burly minders, as he answered the reporters’ questions.
Adam’s boss, DCI Mike Dunlop, stood to one side preparing to make a statement on behalf of the NCA, in which he would no doubt express profound disappointment.
Adam slipped away from Dunlop and the rest of the police team and crossed the road where he sparked up a fag and tried to suppress the rage that was bubbling up inside him.
He regarded what had just happened as a travesty of justice, and it was going to take him a while to get over it. The thought that Rosetti would now go away and continue to ply his illicit trade made his blood boil.
He watched as the bastard finished answering questions. Then a black Mercedes pulled up to the kerb and he climbed in with his minders. The reporters immediately turned their attention to Dunlop. The Mercedes then pulled away, but instead of driving straight off, it shot across the road and parked next to where Adam was standing.
The rear window was lowered and Rosetti’s face appeared.
‘Cheer up, Boyd,’ he said. ‘You win some, you lose some.’
Adam felt the bile rise in his throat. ‘We may have lost the battle, scumbag,’ he said. ‘But not the war. It won’t be long before I collar you for something you won’t be able to wriggle out of.’
‘Don’t waste taxpayers’ money,’ Rosetti said. ‘It will never happen. Besides, I should be the least of your worries.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Rosetti grinned, showing a set of yellow teeth. ‘You’ll find out soon enough – word is, you’re in for a nasty surprise.’
Adam took a step forward, but Rosetti tapped the driver’s shoulder and the Mercedes drove off, tyres squealing.
Adam stared after it, cursing under his breath. It wasn’t the veiled threat that infuriated him – he’d received so many over the years that he no longer took them seriously. No, it was the fact that he knew that getting Rosetti into the dock again was going to be hellishly difficult, if not impossible.
He dropped what remained of his cigarette and ground it into the pavement with the heel of his shoe. Then just as he was about to cross back over the road he felt his phone vibrate again with another message.
This time he whipped it out of his pocket and saw that both messages had come from DCI Dave Brennan, who was asking him to call as a matter of urgency. Brennan was his ex-wife’s boss and it was a long time since he’d heard from the guy.
Adam arched his brow and called the number. He had no idea, of course, that the bad day he was having was about to turn into his worst nightmare.
Sarah
I was in Mrs Loyd’s back garden puffing on a cigarette while praying that my daughter hadn’t been lost to me forever. But it was impossible to keep the negative thoughts at bay. They taunted me, each one a loud, desperate scream inside my head.
Two hours had passed since Brennan and I had arrived at my parents’ house and a lot had happened in that time. My mother had been taken to hospital to be checked over, a police car had been dispatched to pick my father up from his allotment and take him there too, and I’d been sick twice – once on the kitchen floor and once in her downstairs toilet. Luckily I’d known my mother’s neighbour Mrs Loyd for years and she told me not to worry, that she would clean it up.
I was still in a state of raw shock, only half aware of what was going on around me.
A PC was with me in the garden. Her name was Penny and we knew each other fairly well. She kept telling me that everything would be all right and I would soon be reunited with Molly. But, of course, she couldn’t possibly know that and was just saying it to make me feel better.
But words alone were not going to relieve the emotional turmoil that was raging inside me. I needed to find my baby, to see her smile, hear her laugh, hold her in my arms.
I was clutching my mobile phone in my free hand, willing it to ring, for the kidnapper to make contact. If he called to demand a ransom then I’d willingly pay it, no matter how much it was. I’d move heaven and earth to get Molly back, sell my flat if need be, borrow the rest. That wouldn’t be a problem. And I was sure to get all the help I needed from Adam and my parents.
The sun was beating down as I paced up and down the garden, Penny watching from the patio with her arms folded across her chest.
For some reason that made me angry. Why didn’t she appear upset? Why was her face so expressionless? Didn’t she realise how bad this was and how hard it was for me to keep from screaming?
But then it hit me. She was just being professional, doing her job. In the same way I’d done mine for years. Only this time the tables had turned on me and I was the victim, along with Molly and my mother. It was a new and terrifying experience.
Next door in my parents’ garden several uniformed officers were carrying out a search. They were checking to see if there was any evidence to suggest that the kidnapper had taken Molly out the back way.
There was a small patch of woodland on the other side of the fence at the bottom of the garden. Beyond that was a road that wasn’t overlooked by houses or flats. Brennan had already raised the possibility that the kidnapper had parked a car or van out there. He’d also told me in the last half hour that none of the neighbours had seen or heard anything.
Mrs Lloyd had been in her bathroom when the kidnapping took place and hadn’t become aware of what had happened until the police called on her.
I wanted to do something, to join the search, put my police skills to good use, but right now I was in no fit state to be of any use. My body was numb, my mind in utter disarray, and I felt smothered by a dark blanket of despair.
When Brennan suddenly stepped out onto the patio, my stomach leapt. I assumed straight away that it was bad news.
‘Don’t panic,’ he said quickly. ‘There’s been no change. I’ve come to tell you that Molly’s father has arrived. If you pop back in I can update you both at the same time.’
My legs threatened to collapse under me as I walked towards the house, and I could feel a fresh batch of tears building behind my eyes.
When I entered the kitchen and saw Adam standing there next to Brennan, I totally lost control and broke down. Adam rushed over and put an arm around me, and I sobbed into his shoulder. We were used to seeing each other during his frequent visits to the flat to pick Molly up, but this was the first time we’d had physical contact since the divorce.
He spoke in a soothing voice, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I was just glad he was there and the scent of him filled every intake of breath.
When I eventually stopped crying, Brennan handed me a tissue and I used it to dry my eyes. Then I stepped back out of Adam’s embrace and looked up at him.
At six feet he was a good four inches taller than me and was wearing a dark suit and white open-neck shirt. His familiar face was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. But his expression was totally unfamiliar, a mixture of fear and incredulity. Sweat had gathered in the creases of his brow and his lips were drawn into a tight line.
‘I’ve been told what’s happened, Sarah,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘I can’t believe it. Why would anyone take Molly, for God’s sake?’
I had a sudden, violent urge to vomit again. Brennan must have sensed it because he quickly pulled over a chair and told me to sit down.
Adam came and stood in front of me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I could feel the tension in his fingers.
He held out his other hand and