But Lukas had taken the trouble to check that Lina had actually arrived in Vilnius. Had he also checked that the person using her passport really was Lina and discovered that she was an imposter? And because Ned had pointed the finger at Hunter—by effectively telling Lukas that Hunter was the last person to see Lina alive—Lukas had had him killed.
So, who was Lukas? Lina was an orphan, but maybe he was a family friend, someone who’d looked out for Lina when she was orphaned—someone who would avenge her murder. It would explain why he’d had Hunter killed. Payback. Which meant that it wasn’t over yet. Lukas would come after Ned, and he would come after me; he would finish the job his gunman had failed to do.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
PRESENT
I’ve spent the last three days walking around the room in circles. It hadn’t taken me long to work it out, once I knew our abduction was about Lina. Lukas is behind our kidnapping. I had known he would come after us, but I didn’t think we’d be kidnapped. But maybe he had seen it as a way of extorting money from Jethro Hawthorpe before having us killed.
Exhausted from walking, I move to my mattress, wrap my blanket around me. The day I met Lukas, he said he was returning to Vilnius the next day. Is that where he is, masterminding our abduction from his home there, giving orders to the two men holding us?
Has Ned worked out that Lukas is behind our kidnapping? He must have, now that he knows this is about Lina. He will know, then, that he’ll never get out of here alive. Once the kidnappers have the money, they’ll kill him. They might spare me, but they’ll kill him.
There’s a noise from the basement.
“Wake up, Ned, the day has finally arrived. Your father has paid us, so we’re releasing you early.”
“What?” Ned’s voice is groggy with sleep. “Did you say you’re releasing me?”
“Yes, we’re letting you go. There’s a couple of hours before the agreed drop-off time, so you’ve got time to clean yourself up. We can’t let your father see you in such a disgusting state, can we?”
Ned makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Can I have a shower?” he asks. “Some clean clothes?”
“Absolutely. You can even have a coffee, if you like.” A pause. “There’s just one thing: if anyone asks you about your wife, you’ll tell them you don’t know what happened to her, that she was held apart from you. If you tell them that we killed her, we’ll tell them that you were the one who asked for her to be killed. And in case you’re wondering how we’d do that—well, we have the recording of you telling us to kill her. All we have to do is drop it off at a police station, or broadcast it on social media, for you to spend the rest of your life in prison, especially when we add in Lina’s murder. So, don’t forget, Ned. Nothing about your wife, and no pretending you were a hero.” Another pause. “Your wife tried to escape, did you know that? But you—nothing. You did nothing to try and help yourself.”
“Yeah, well, look where it got her,” Ned sneers.
“And that’s exactly what will happen to you if you say anything, or do anything, to displease us. We’ll be watching you, Ned, from all angles.” There’s the sound of the door opening. “Right, let’s get you into a shower.”
In the room upstairs, I’m trembling. It’s over. They’re releasing Ned, he isn’t going to be killed. But I’ll be safe, because he truly believes that I’m dead. My shooting wasn’t about playing a trick on him, as I’d feared.
My abductor has done what I asked.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
PAST
Ned was in my bedroom. He had brought me a supper tray. I refused to be scared of him, so I kept my eyes fixed on him as he put it down on the table. His face was a mess; he still had the marks from when I’d attacked him three days before, and I was glad.
“Make sure you eat it this time,” he said. “I don’t want you looking emaciated when we announce our separation.”
I didn’t answer, just kept on staring at him. There was something else on his face, a sort of wariness. It told me he was living in fear of his life, and I was glad about that too. Whatever he had coming to him, he deserved it.
There was a call on the intercom and he jumped so badly I nearly laughed out loud. He hurried from the bedroom, leaving the door open in his haste, and I imagined him hovering at the top of the stairs, waiting for his new security guard to open the front door below. I had heard the new guard’s voice in the hall the day after Lukas’s lunch, and I’d felt a rush of anger at the way Hunter had been replaced so quickly.