Tap … tap …
‘Four, maybe five hours at the most,’ said Ross, lowering his arm and letting the sleeve of his tracksuit fall over his wrist.
Tap …
Tap . .
Tap.
‘We’re going to have to call in a specialist,’ said William turning to Juan, ‘if we’re to have any chance of getting him out before he suffocates.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ said Juan. ‘Se?ora Martinez obtained a court order that prevents anyone other than Faulkner or his lawyer from even touching it.’
‘Then get her on the line immediately,’ pressed William. ‘Explain exactly what has happened and the consequences if we can’t get the door open.’
‘But she won’t be in her office much before nine, and by then it will be too late,’ said Juan.
‘Collins will know her number,’ said William, looking around, but the butler was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where the hell’s he got to?’ said Ross as a red light began flashing on the phone on Faulkner’s desk.
‘One step ahead of us again,’ said Juan. ‘It’s just lucky that Faulkner doesn’t trust anyone,’ he added as he placed a finger to his lips and pressed the speaker button.
‘What do you mean by waking me up at this time of the morning, Collins?’ boomed a voice William immediately recognized.
‘I’m sorry to wake you, sir,’ said Collins, ‘but Mr Faulkner’s locked himself into the safe, and I don’t have any way of getting him out.’
‘Call Isobel Martinez immediately,’ said Booth Watson, suddenly wide awake. ‘She can get the court order lifted. Then ring the fire brigade. They’ll have the right equipment to drill a hole in the door so at least he can breathe, which will give us a little more time. But what the hell was he doing in there in the first place?’
‘Inspector Warwick, Lieutenant Sanchez and a third policeman turned up in the middle of the night.’
‘DI Hogan no doubt,’ said Booth Watson. ‘Se?ora Martinez will have to take care of them too. Tell her I’ll be on the first flight to Barcelona.’
‘I’ll have to go back to the study and look up her number in the boss’s contacts book,’ said Collins. ‘What do I tell Warwick if he—’
‘Tell him you’re calling your lawyer. They can’t stop you doing that,’ said Booth Watson as he slammed down the phone and clambered out of bed.
‘I can get him out of there,’ said Ross, looking at the door, ‘but I need Collins out of the way,’ he added without explanation, as the butler came back into the room and headed straight for Faulkner’s desk.
Sanchez immediately stepped into his path. ‘You’re under arrest, Mr Collins.’
‘On what charge?’
‘Preventing the police from carrying out their duties,’ said Sanchez, as two uniformed officers stepped forward and grabbed Collins by the arms. ‘Take him to the station and lock him up. Make sure he doesn’t speak to anyone before I get there.’
‘I’m entitled to phone my lawyer,’ protested Collins. ‘That’s the law.’
‘You already have,’ said Juan as the two officers bustled Collins out of the room.
William waited for the study door to close before saying, ‘So tell me Ross, how do you propose to open that door?’
‘All in good time,’ said Ross as he flicked through the telephone book on Faulkner’s desk. He found the name he was looking for and dialled a number.
‘Who is this?’ asked a sleepy voice.
‘I’m Mr Faulkner’s private secretary. He asked me to let you know there’s been a change of plan. He’s been taken ill, nothing serious, but he wants to get back to London as quickly as possible so he can see his own doctor. How soon can you have his plane ready for take-off?’
‘A couple of hours, three at the most,’ said a voice no longer asleep. ‘I’ll alert the crew immediately, but our departure time will depend on when we can get a landing slot in London.’
‘Tell them it’s an emergency,’ said Ross. ‘We’ll meet you at the airport.’
‘Understood,’ said the pilot, who was already out of bed before Ross had put the phone down.
‘It’s the watch, isn’t it?’ said William, remembering the anonymous black dial that had taken the place of Jo’s Rolex.
Ross smiled. ‘Now Collins is out of the way, I’ll get Faulkner out and we can take him to the airport and fly him back to London on his own plane.’