Unbroken Love

  “Money. Money! He needs more time. You have to understand, it’s not possible to withdraw, in cash, more than fifty-thousand pounds or dollars or even reais, without a contract or a deed. It’s forbidden by law. Not here, not in the United States, not even in Brazil—”

  He slapped her with the back of his hand with so much force she thought he would break her neck. Her teeth cut her bottom lip and blood flowed down her chin and neck.

  Fisting her hair, he hissed with his foul breath, “Lying bitch. He is fucking rich. He has a fucking bank. He has access to many accounts. He can withdraw money from the clients’ accounts.”

  Oh, God! How stupid can he be! “Having a bank only makes things worse, can’t you see? Please, one more day,” she implored. “This is a civilized country. People have to justify such huge withdrawals. Even if he could withdraw the minimum from all the accounts, the many withdrawals necessary would call attention. Besides, money sometimes is virtual. It’s not as easy as you think.”

  “Ah, yeah. You’re a fucking intelligent bitch, ain’t you?” His eyes squinted and his face contorted in an evil smile. He turned to one of his men. “I know where we are going to start.”

  Stupid move, Sophia! “Time. He needs time.” Panic took charge of Sophia and she started to shake uncontrollably. She closed her eyes and begged, “Please, please, please!”

  “I’ve waited enough. I’m sending a little warning.” Uó’s knife pierced the hollow of her neck.

  Sophia flashed her eyes wide, too scared even to scream, even to breathe, as she felt another rivulet of blood run down her body.

  “I’m going to enjoy cutting you up piece by piece, till I receive my full fifty-million.” His raucous laugh filled the cavernous room and he turned to another one of his accomplices. “You ready to film?”

  The man nodded.

  Uó circled the chair twice, slowly, and stopped behind Sophia’s chair, fisting her hair in one hand. “Better stay still, you cunt. You don’t want me to do this wrong. Start begging.”

  “Hello, Alistair Connor.” The first sob broke from Sophia’s body when she felt the knife touch her skin again.

  Oh, Alistair Connor, please, come quickly.

  Chapter 27

  The City of London Bank Headquarters

  Alistair’s Office

  4:30 p.m.

  With a brief knock on the doorjamb, Tavish entered Alistair’s office.

  Alistair turned his head and looked at his brother’s face with weary eyes before turning back to the Thames. He took a deep breath as his gaze automatically slid over the distance as if it could find Sophia.

  “I take it there is no news?” Tavish asked softly. He knew the answer. He’d read it on Alistair’s disheartened face.

  “No’ yet,” Alistair answered. “Munro has the chopper, MacDouglas has the G6, and even Ashford has his plane available, so we won’t call too much attention or concentrate all the money in one place. Everything is ready…but that telephone number doesn’t answer anymore.”

  “Ye have the money! How?”

  “I was going to Andorra,” to pick up the money personally, “but I remembered our moves are being monitored and the plane could be searched when we landed here again. So, Father and I met Ashford for lunch and we set a plan. As Father didn’t oppose, I asked him to sell Mother’s most beautiful diamond set to a dealer Ashford knew. It was a bargain, as things this rushed are,” he said in a small, ashamed voice. But worth it compared to Sophia’s life.

  “That was canny, Alistair Connor. And very noble of Ashford to be helping.” Admiration showed in Tavish’s voice as he paused by his brother’s side. “I’m sure Mother would approve. Where was the money going?”

  “Who knows? Somewhere in the Amazon Forest, maybe?” Alistair shrugged. “To a waste bin in Rio de Janeiro? What I doona understand is why Alberto is doing this. He doesn’t need the money. And how the fucking hell did he find Emma?”

  Tavish had no answers for his brother so he just stood with him in silence.

  They didn’t know what was worse: waiting for bad news or not knowing when, how or what would happen.

  Ashford Steel Industries

  Ethan’s Office

  5:00 p.m.

  Ethan had thought he was a man well-acquainted with hurt. But to know Sophia had been kidnapped, could be killed at any moment, and he could do nothing but wait, was excruciating. This is true pain.

  He had called Alistair immediately upon hearing of Sophia’s disappearance and offered to help. He had even attempted to dissuade the government from impeding the ransom from being paid; he had used and pushed his influence as far as he could, but the government was being irreducible so far, saying they would never negotiate with organized criminals or allow it to be done privately. It didn’t matter who the captor or the captive was.

  Focus, Ashford. What can you do? He had been calling every one he knew who could possibly help. But as always, everyone was occupied with more important matters and wouldn’t involve themselves with other people’s messy problems.

  Early that morning, he had gone to Craigdale Castle and informed Lachlann that his accounts weren’t blocked so he would pay for the ransom himself. Lachlann didn’t accept and called Alistair. They met in Lachlann’s private apartments and Alistair explained his doubts and fears.

  It was then that they had engendered the idea of selling Alistair’s mother’s jewels. He had returned to London full of hope, but after Alistair had called him saying the kidnapper’s line was disconnected, the pain had returned with renewed force.

  He put his head in his hands, waiting for news, when Scott’s voice came through the intercom.

  “Sir, I need to talk to you.”

  Scott’s voice was firm and vibrant, diametrically opposed to Ethan’s feelings, and not as smooth as usual.

  “Come in, then,” he answered, dispirited.

  5:30 p.m.

  “How did you discover all this, Scott?” Ethan was flabbergasted. Not to mention scared. Who will believe I had nothing to do with it?

  “Well, when I saw Mrs. MacCraig’s car exploding, I thought—I decided to do a clean-up and see if I could recall anything that might help with the investigation. I spent Saturday afternoon and Sunday here. As usual, I did my routine procedure of checking on your houses, Mr. Ashford. On Sunday morning, while I was monitoring the CCTV videos I noticed that the shadows at Altreck Caisteal were…repeating. Strangely, they were the same ones I had seen on weekdays. It seemed too quiet, too empty for a house that had been rented recently. I called a few times, but no one answered. As soon as I arrived today, the first thing I did was check on the footage from Altreck again for more than half an hour. The footage shows…or rather, it doesn’t. At no time do we see a single soul, from any angle or camera. It’s probably a twenty-four hour video, on a loop, done before anyone went there. I asked for the rental agreement. The name of the company that rented your castle is All Ltda. It’s a limited Brazilian company. I checked it too. The founder is A-L-L, Alberto Luiz Leibowitz, Sophia’s father-in-law from her first husband. I started putting the pieces together. It could just be an enormous coincidence, but I think this is where she’s being kept.”

  Jesus. Ethan stayed silent for a long moment, weighing the pros and cons. In the end, it could all culminate into one of those unforeseen tragedies where the one who started the butterfly effect wished to redo everything to save everyone from their ill-fate.

  Ethan knew such things were only possible in books and films. I can be sentenced to life in prison. He choked on his own spit. But throwing caution to the wind, he ordered, “Call MacCraig and Davidoff. I’ll call the police.” I’m a grown man. I’m responsible. I can make a difference.

  6:30 p.m.

  “So she could be there?” Alistair paced the room, raking his fingers through his hair nervously.

  “Probably.” Ethan was equally tense, but he sat controlled on the chair. “If she is, I can break in.”

  “T
he police, you mean,” Isabel corrected him. Part of her team was scanning the video footage of the castle and others were studying the floor plan of Altreck. “Civilians aren’t allowed—”

  I have to convince them. “No. I meant me. The underground passages are confusing and dangerous. There is no map, no floor plan. These passages were built by the first laird of the castle. There is an opening here,” with his pen, Ethan pointed to a beach on the map, “and it spreads to countless iron doors and passages. A few lead to a dead end after hours and hours of walking; another to an abyss; another to the loch; and the worst to a labyrinth. There’s only one that can reach the dungeon, and from there the whole castle. Many have died trying to invade the castle during wars. It’s a fortress. The underground passages are the easiest way in but only for those who know how to navigate them. There is no natural or artificial light. The air is stale because—”

  “So, how are you so sure she is there?” Isabel asked again. She squinted her eyes at him.

  Jesus! “I’m not!” Ethan exclaimed, exasperated. He knew what she must be thinking. “This might just be a coincidence, but it can save her life.”

  “Coincidence?” Isabel looked astonished at Ethan. She hadn’t been able to figure out what Ethan’s part in Sophia’s kidnapping was. She had solved too many crimes in her life to believe in such coincidences. “Mr. Ashford, this is not a coincidence. A chain of events may—”

  “Detective, we’re wasting Sophia’s time with this discussion. Why don’t you let him finish his explanation? About the lights, Ashford?”

  “When you reach the dungeon from within the castle you can turn on the lights. From the outside, there is only one way if you reach the right tunnel. There is a tall, thick arched wooden door with a knob. Here lies your worst nightmare. It looks absolutely normal, but it’s a trick. If you try to open it, or if you turn the knob, it instantly locks itself and sets off a complex mechanism that will lower another door in the middle of the passage you have come through. You think it will just entomb you alive, until…” Ethan made a small pause, considering if he should tell the rest.

  “Until?” asked Alistair.

  Yeah, a little fear will make them take me. “Until the passage starts to flood with the loch water and the door that has fallen is pulled by the mechanism. You die, either of drowning or by being crushed. After the water washes the dead bodies away from the passage, the mechanism is set in place again. Extremely clever. I don’t really know why, detective, but I’ve always kept it oiled and functioning.” Maybe I’m crazy.

  “How do you know how to reach this door and open it without killing us?” she asked, staring at him not knowing if she should believe his story, but being from an old British family, Isabel knew many old castles had strange underground passages and mechanisms.

  “One of the descendants of Lord Grey McKintosh was an employee of my grandfather. He taught me the trick. I used to play there when I was a kid.” Hiding from my visiting parents. “Your team will have to follow me.” Ethan exhaled. “Let’s just hope the criminals inside aren’t expecting us.”

  Are you still in love with her? Alistair was baffled. “You would put your life at risk to save her?”

  Ethan looked down for a moment, before fixing his azure gaze on Alistair. “She’s my best friend. Wouldn’t you risk your life for her?”

  “I’m her husband. I love her,” he said, raising an eyebrow. She’s the light of my life. The mother of my children.

  I owe her that much. Ethan shrugged and didn’t answer, left speechless by a second thought that hit him like a wrecking-ball. I owe myself that much.

  7.00 p.m.

  “The local police have already been informed. We have identified the bullets that killed the hacker, Mr. MacCraig,” Isabel said, ending the phone call. “The gun is Brazilian made. The .454 cartridge has been used to hunt animals as large as an African elephant. Unfortunately, it’s an affordable gun. The City Airport is on stand-by, waiting for us. I’ve already sent our team up to the Highlands for back-up by plane. Shall we?”

  They stood up and halted mid-way when Tavish’s cell phone rang at the same time as Alistair’s.

  They looked at each other and took out their phones. On Tavish’s screen appeared Edward’s private number and on Alistair’s just an email banner, which didn’t seem important. They exchanged mobiles.

  “It’s MacCraig, Davidoff. Tell me,” Alistair answered and listened to a brief explanation. He blanched and finished the call, thanking Edward.

  Everyone was paying attention to Alistair and didn’t see Tavish putting Alistair’s phone on mute and holding the edge of the table with so much force his knuckles became white.

  “LO just received a quick call from a public phone, detective. There’s a white backpack on the corner of Fleet Street, near the Royal Courts. It has my name written on it. You’d better check—”

  “Jesus! Nae!” Tavish’s horrified exclamation interrupted Alistair, who whipped his head to see what had made his calm brother despair.

  Alistair’s hand shot out and he tried to take the phone from Tavish.

  Immediately, Tavish thrust Alistair’s phone into his inner jacket pocket, stopping him from seeing the email.

  Without thinking, Alistair flung himself onto his brother and it took detectives and officers to break the two big men apart.

  Isabel inserted herself between them, trying to reason with an inflexible Tavish, and trying to calm a desperate Alistair. “Lieutenant-Colonel, he’s the husband, he has the right to see—”

  “TAVISH UILLEAM!” Alistair, secured by two officers, roared over Isabel’s voice. “This is about Sophia.” My love. My life. Mine. “Show me the message. NOW!”

  Tavish knew Alistair and Isabel had no idea how shocking the content of the email was. “I’m sorry, Brother, but there is absolutely no way I’m letting ye see this. Ashford, take me tae another room. I’ll show it tae the detective and her team can start tracing the email.”

  Ethan stared at Tavish. The huge man, with medical and military training, was pale and his eyes were even more turbulent than ever. Whatever it is, it’s bad.

  They moved into another room and turned the lights down. Ethan noticed Tavish collapsing into the comfortable armchair and leaning his head back, with an arm over his eyes.

  “Hello, Alistair Connor,” Sophia’s sob echoed loudly in the room and they could see a big, glimmering steely knife touching her skin. “I’m alive. A little dirty as you can see, but I’m okay.”

  “I don’t think so, cunt,” said the male voice. “Beg!”

  Sophia’s frightened scream ripped the air as the knife slid up with precision near her ear.

  Ethan stumbled directly to the bathroom to throw up as Sophia’s cries and pleas reverberated in the room.

  7:30 p.m.

  There was so much fury in Alistair’s body that he thought he would kill Tavish at the first opportunity he had.

  “Detective Isabel?” A very young officer entered the meeting room where Alistair was pacing alone. “Where is detective Isabel?”

  “She should be here at any moment, officer.” Alistair approached the man, who was carrying the white backpack with Alistair’s full name written in black in Sophia’s unique handwriting. He stretched out his hand. “The backpack?”

  Despite asking, Alistair was not requesting, he was demanding to be given the bag.

  It was clear from the trembling handwriting that she had been nervous when writing it, but just the sight of it made his heart beat faster. She’s alive. She’s well.

  “It’s clear. No bombs or fingerprints, except your wife’s. It’s not toxic either. We’re already checking the nearest CCTV cameras. They haven’t been hacked. We’ll nail them now. It’s a matter of hours, Mr. MacCraig.”

  Hours? Who told you Sophia has hours? Alistair motioned his hand again and used his most persuasive voice. “Do you want to leave this for detective Martins?”

  “Yes, I was told to bring i
t here as we don’t know what she wants us to do.” The police officer stood there a bit unsure but finally relented. “Could you hand it to her, please?”

  “Of course. Thank you, officer.” I’ll give the detective the package. After I’ve seen it.

  Outside the lifts, Scott and the young police officer were startled as Alistair’s anguished bellows sounded throughout the whole floor.

  Scott ran to the meeting room, throwing the door open to find Alistair on his knees, crying and sobbing with his face burrowed in his hands, the white backpack thrown to the side.

  Scott blinked nervously and saw he was holding something in his hands. It looked like a piece of black silk. Then he realized it was not silk.

  What was overflowing from Alistair’s hands was Sophia’s long raven hair matted with blood and thin layers of skin.

  Scotland, Northern Highlands, Inchnadamph

  Altreck Caisteal

  8:30 p.m.

  “I have a full dossier on you. You deserve to be punished.”

  What? Sophia frantically looked around but couldn’t locate the voice in the darkness. Alberto? “Who is in here? Show yourself.”

  “I selected the ugliest and biggest ones just for you, you husband-murderer. Enjoy room 101.” He closed the door softly behind him and a key turned in the lock loudly as a strange sound filled her ears.

  Then she saw. The wings, flying toward her.

  “Nooo! Come back! Don’t leave me here.” She tried to run to the door, but she was frozen, only her eyes moved, accompanying the frantic movements of the moths’ wings as they closed in. “Help me, someone, help me!”

  Breathe in, breathe out. You are a grown woman, not a child anymore, Sophia. You can walk out of here at any moment. It is ridiculous to be afraid of these disgusting, enormous, flying creatures. They’re just flying insects. They can do me no harm.