The Pleasures of Autumn (32 page)

The front door loomed ahead and she staggered towards it.

‘What the fuck? Grab her.’

After that, there was no contest. The blond one bared her arm and the prick of a needle told her she had been drugged again. Everything was spinning.

Spinning …

Roisin led Mr Takahashi out of the bathroom by the collar around his neck and pointed him at the bowls on the floor near the balcony.

Niall didn’t think he made a sound, but she spun around and frowned at him. ‘What is it? You look like you just tasted dog poop.’

Niall’s brain was still frozen. It wasn’t possible. Hall couldn’t have Sinead. But that had been her voice. And Sinead was one of the few people who could have given Hall his private number.

Sinead was in danger. The realization made his skin tighten and chill.

God damn it, he was reluctant to go up against Hall, even on a good day. The SEALS were among the most elite spec-ops forces in the world. Every single one of them was a one-man army. When a SEAL went bad, the way Hall had, he was a disaster waiting to happen. And he had Sinead.

His lungs seized at the idea of Sinead in Hall’s hands.
Hall was a hardened sadist, with the training to inflict heart-stopping amounts of pain without leaving a mark. He would break Sinead if Niall didn’t bring him the ruby.

Around him, the world slowed while he considered his options. His job was to find the stone. Roisin had it. If he didn’t deliver it, he would lose the contract, and likely the agency. But none of that mattered compared with knowing that Hall had Sinead.

There was no decision to make. It was simple. He loved Sinead. He had to get her back. No matter what it cost.

Niall turned his most commanding glare on Roisin. ‘Where is the stone? I need it.’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Like I’m going to give it to you. You have no idea how much I’ve gone through to get it. I’m keeping it.’

Her blue eyes were dismissive. She had no intention of helping him.

All his inhibitions about hurting women left him. Niall put his hand around her throat, not tight enough to stop her breathing, but more than enough to let her feel his strength, and forced her to look at him.

‘Let me put it this way,’ he said. ‘Right now your sister is in the hands of the meanest son of a bitch on the planet. If you don’t give me that stone, I’m going to do to you whatever that guy is doing to your sister.’

She continued to meet his eyes, but her breathing shortened. Still, she kept her voice even when she answered him. ‘Dad always told me that bullies were just lonely little boys in need of a hug.’

He stared down at her. ‘I don’t care what you call me.
Your sister has been kidnapped and the only way to get her back is with the Fire of Autumn.’

She said nothing while she processed that.

‘Tell me where it is,’ Niall insisted.

A stiffness in her spine alerted him. She had it with her. Made sense, she wouldn’t leave something like that behind her.

‘Never mind, I’ll find it myself.’ He dropped her and examined the room. It was a standard hotel room, if luxuriously appointed and decorated. There was an extravagant fruit basket, pink tea roses spilling their scent into the air. There were two dog bowls on the ground, one full of water, or possibly white wine, and the other full of sashimi. Niall raised his eyebrows. This was a puppy with expensive tastes.

But nowhere to hide a large ruby.

On the floor beside the couch lay a long bag, the sort used by hockey players to carry their stick. And by Dommes to carry their whips. He picked it up, ignoring Roisin’s protest, and spilled the contents on the couch.

A riding crop. A cane. A dressage whip. A heavy horsehair flogger. A light leather flogger. And a supple single-tail whip whose handle was encrusted with coloured stones. A large red stone finished the handle and glittered in the sunlight.

He didn’t need her instinctive grab at it to tell him he was looking at the Fire of Autumn. He lifted it up above her head, out of her reach. ‘I’m taking this.’

‘No, you’re not. I need it. It’s mine.’

Was she out of her mind? ‘Your sister is in danger and this is what will buy her safety.’

‘I need it more.’ The grim set of her mouth told him she wasn’t joking. ‘I’m not letting it out of my sight.’

Whatever was driving her wasn’t simple greed. Damn it, that was all he needed, a civilian getting in his way. He picked up his phone and briefed Andy on the situation. He promised to be over as soon as possible.

Then he called Hall back. ‘I have the stone, and I’m prepared to give it to you. On condition that Sinead is not hurt in any way. If there is so much as a scratch on her, all bets are off.’

Hall laughed. ‘Good boy. I do like a man who can obey orders.’ Niall fought to hold onto his temper. He knew the other man was deliberately trying to make him lose control. ‘Take it to the statue of the Virgin and Child in Notre Dame by 13.30. No police and no tricks, or you know what will happen.’ He hung up before Niall could answer.

He glanced at his watch. Damn, this was cutting it tight. He shoved the whip into his pocket and headed for the door.

‘Come back,’ Roisin yelled. He ignored her.

‘Wait for me.’ She grabbed a pale macintosh from the back of the couch and pulled it on. Then she was beside him, holding his arm and refusing to let go. Damn it, he didn’t have the time to deal with this.

‘Woof,’ said Mr Takahashi, in a questioning bark.

Niall ignored him. He headed for the lift, moving at a pace just short of a run with Roisin holding on tightly.

As the high-speed lift headed for the foyer, he considered his options. The timing was too tight to take chances.
‘You might want to let go now,’ he told Roisin. ‘I’m going on foot and I’ll be running.’

Her grip on his arm didn’t loosen. ‘Do I look like a cripple? I can run.’ Beneath the mac, her thigh-high boots were covered with spikes and her figure-hugging catsuit was eye catching, but they were both serviceable.

‘Not the way I do.’ As soon as they were outside the hotel, he set off, heading for Notre Dame. He dodged through traffic to get across roads and wove his way through pedestrians on the footpath. His shadow kept pace with him. As they got closer, the crowds of tourists got thicker. He headed for a gap in a group and almost ran over two children feeding the pigeons grain from their hands.

‘Sorry,’ he said, and kept going.

Roisin grabbed a handful of grain as she went past and scattered it. The pigeons dived for the bounty and the grain seller shouted angrily at her.

‘You’re a damned trouble-maker,’ Niall told her.

She grinned. ‘More trouble than you can handle, that’s for sure.’

He had to fight his way through a group of Americans clustered around a tour guide outside the cathedral. ‘Remember this is a church, people will be praying. Be respectful and quiet and no photographs.’

Inside, his eyes took a couple of seconds to adjust to the dimness. He didn’t have time to appreciate the soaring ceilings and incense-scented air. He had to find the statue where Hall was waiting. At the other end of the building, a choir was singing in plain chant. A priest was lighting candles on the main altar. It was a world away from stolen
gems and threats of violence. Niall checked his watch. He had two minutes to spare.

He jogged around the perimeter of the church, checking the statues around the outside of the central space. Finally he saw the one he wanted.

The chapel it was in was deserted. There was no sign of Hall or Sinead. Wiping sweat off his forehead, he brought his breath under control and waited to see who would come. Two elderly American tourists stood, debating whether to tip the priest, and that was all.

He phoned Hall. There was no reply, but seconds later he got a text. ‘Good boy, you’re doing well, but you didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you? Be on the third floor of the Eiffel tower at 14.15.’

Niall knew exactly what Hall was doing. He would make him run all over the city, preventing him from setting up any sort of trap. And he had no choice but to go along with it.

‘I hope you’re in good shape, Red,’ he said. ‘We have more running to do.’

Outside, a row of bikes caught his eye. That would be faster. He keyed in the details and grabbed one. The saddle was too low, but he didn’t stop to adjust it, just plunged into the maelstrom of Paris traffic, and headed straight for the Eiffel tower. He ignored the signs for one way streets and traffic lights and concentrated on getting there as quickly as possible.

On the way, he called Andy and told him to meet him there. Behind him, Roisin followed. She was on a bike, but it wasn’t a Vélib’. He was pretty sure that she had stolen it.

From close up, the tower stood impossibly high, and the queue for the lifts snaked around the entire base. There must be close to a thousand people there. Damn it, he didn’t have authority to get in ahead of the crowd, and couldn’t afford to wait.

He dropped the bike and headed for the ticket booth on the South tower. Andy was there, holding two foot tickets. ‘Way ahead of you, boss,’ he said, grinning, then did a double take when he saw Roisin. She grabbed Andy’s
ticket and followed Niall right up the stairs. Behind him, Andy cursed a blue streak and headed back to the ticket booth to buy another one.

The stairs went on forever. Niall ran up them, his lungs heaving. They went in groups of twenty-five. Landing, twenty-five steps. Landing, twenty-five. Landing, twenty-five. Landing, twenty-five. Turn and up the next side of the tower. He pushed past tourists pretending to admire the view while trying to catch their breath. Roisin and Andy were at his back when he reached the first landing. He kept going, building a rhythm of stairs, landing, stairs, turn.

At the second landing, the stairs stopped. He had to go onto the platform and dodge workmen setting up an ice-skating rink. He followed a group of children clutching green Eiffel tower lollipops and found the closed-off stairs that led up to the third floor. He hopped over the gate and climbed.

He was wet with sweat and his breath laboured. 1,600 steps done and at least another hundred to go. He didn’t have time to rest. He only had three minutes to get to the next floor. He forced his legs to move faster.

The third landing was cold and windy and he could feel the entire tower swaying. The lift stopped, disgorging twenty tourists, all chattering in different languages. Some compared the dramatic landscape visible from here to the maps in their hands. Two teenagers carried glass figurines of the tower that flashed different colours when they were switched on. A man and woman with Irish accents clutched the hand of four red-haired children, and the mother wore a sling across her chest. Another red head peered out with huge baby eyes.

None of them looked like Hall or his henchmen. Damn it.

Niall’s phone beeped as a text arrived. ‘Good boy. I admire punctuality. Now go to Place Denfert-Rochereau and be there by 16.00. And bring the stone. Red is not feeling too well.’

Fuck. Niall leaned against the railing, allowing the cold metal to echo the chill in his guts. Hall did have someone watching him.

Andy and Roisin appeared on the landing, wheezing with the effort of the climb. ‘It’s another dead end. He’s going to run us all around the city. We have to go now.’ He headed for the stairs, ready to go down. Andy grabbed his arm.

‘We can get the lift down without a ticket.’

As the lift dropped down the shaft, Niall closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer. Please don’t let him be too late.

… Spinning.

The camp was a blur as Dada spun her around and around. His red hair flew out around his head when he laughed up at her.

‘Me now, Dada. It’s my turn now.’ Roro tugged at his leg.

It wasn’t fair. Dada was taking Roro with him on the boat while she had to stay at home with Mammy. The other children in the camp were smelly; she didn’t like playing with them.

‘Give your sister a chance, Roisin. It’s nearly time for us to go.’ He set her down on the grass and she swayed, tumbling in a dizzy heap amongst the daisies.

‘Big kiss goodbye and we’ll be off. I promise I’ll bring you back a nice birthday present for looking after your mammy.’

Her sister’s mouth was wet and sticky.

‘Ugh,’ Sinead pushed her away and they both giggled. ‘Bye, Roro.’

She stood with her mammy watching the van go down the country lane. It went very fast. She pulled a dandelion from the grass beside the stony road and blew. The seeds caught on the wind and flew into the air. They mixed with the smoke from the back of Dada’s van.

Her mammy rubbed her belly. Dada said that they would be getting a new baby. When Roro said she wanted a black one, Mammy had laughed.

‘Go and play, Sinead. Mammy has a pain and needs to lie down for a while.’

Sinead nodded. She knew Mammy had a pain because she was very cross and her face was red all morning. She had slapped Roro on the leg when she said there was blue stuff on the bread again.

Sinead pushed through the gate into the back garden and walked through the high grass until she reached the swing. She pushed off from the ground and swung her legs. She threw her head back. She could see the blue in the sky. The blue went on forever. The wind made her hair fly around.

When she swung her legs up really high, she could see a hole in her sock. Mammy would be cross again. There was no money for socks. There was never any money. That was why Dada was gone in the van with Roro. To get some.

Her tummy growled. It sounded just like the puppies that slept in the broken greenhouse where they grew the special plants. She giggled. That was funny. Sinead climbed off the swing and made her way to the rhubarb patch at the end of the garden. The leaves were tall,
almost as tall as she was. Sometimes she hid here with Roro. Sinead picked a stem and bit into it. The sour taste filled her mouth and she spat it into the grass. She needed sugar.

She carried the rhubarb into the caravan. Mammy wasn’t there. She must have gone to see Myra the fortune lady in the next caravan. She climbed on a chair so that she could reach the shelf. The sugar bowl was orange and shiny. With careful hands, she lifted it from the shelf and put it on the table. Then she climbed from the chair. She dunked the rhubarb into the sugar and licked. It was nice.

She sat on the chair. Swinging her legs, she dunked and ate until the stem was gone.

She was still hungry.

Her hands were sticky as she carried the bowl of sugar outside and made her way to the end of the garden. She pulled up another pink stem and sat beneath the canopy of leaves.

She heard a loud noise outside and she froze. It was the police coming. Dada had warned them about the police. He said they were pigs. All Dada’s friends hated the police too. If they came, she and Roro had to hide. She raced down the path, past the broken cars, towards the woods.

The sirens grew louder and then suddenly stopped. In the distance a man was shouting. ‘Leave her alone, she’s fine.’

‘Ah, shut up, Murphy. She’s needs to go to hospital.’ It sounded like Myra.

Sinead kept running.

She ran until she found the hide and crawled inside, pulling the leaves and branches into place so no one would find her. Her tummy hurt. She shouldn’t have eaten the green stuff, only the red. Mammy would be cross. She felt sleepy. She let her eyes close.

A large drop of rain hitting her nose woke her. She was shivering. She stood up and pushed the branches aside to watch the drops.
She hated the rain. It made scary noises on the roof of the caravan at night. Sometimes she thought it was monsters trying to get inside. Roro said that was silly.

When the rain stopped, she crawled out and went back up the path. As she passed the greenhouses she heard crying. The puppies.

One yellow bundle of fur sat outside the greenhouse. He was crying extra loud. Poor puppy. She called him, but he ran into the woods. She didn’t follow him. She kept going. When Sinead climbed through the gap in the hedge, all of the vans were gone and all the people. All of the other caravans were gone, apart from the old one that had no wheels, and the one she lived in.

Three brown hens raced across the open space. Their wire run was broken and the cockerel was loose. She didn’t like the big black bird, so she ran.

She saw that the door to their caravan was open. Sinead climbed the steps and went inside. ‘Mammy,’ she shouted. ‘Where are you, Mammy?’

Mammy wasn’t there. She pushed open the door to the room where she slept with Dada. It was empty. The drawers were all open and their stuff was on the floor. Yucky big flies buzzed in her face and she hit them away. The smell made her tummy ache. She closed the door behind her.

Where was everyone? Maybe the policemen took them away.

‘Mammy,’ she shouted, but she could only hear her own voice. Sinead went outside again, shouting louder this time. ‘Mammy. Mammy. Mammy.’

But no one was there. Mammy was gone. Everyone was gone.

The next morning she waited for ages, but no one came back. There was a big black rat in Mammy’s room. She couldn’t go inside to get clean clothes so she wore the same ones again. Mammy said not to ever touch the cooker, so she didn’t. She had cornflakes for
breakfast and for lunch, but they were almost gone. All day she wandered around, but it was no fun without Roro. She played with the puppies for a while. They were cuddly. At teatime she went to the allotment and ate some berries. The hens were in the vegetable garden. The black cockerel made noises at her every time she passed.

It got dark again and still no one came back. The rustling of the wind in the trees was scary. She sat on the couch eating the cornflakes. She shook out the box and ate the crumbs too. She fell asleep.

The next morning she woke when she heard a car outside. Then she heard voices. A man was saying, ‘It’s something my mam wanted to do. Thank you for bringing us.’ And then another one said, ‘I’m sorry we can’t find out more about what happened. But everyone from the site has gone.’

Sinead wiped her hands on her legs and got off the couch to open the door. It was a big blue policeman. Like the ones her daddy called the ‘pigs’ and ‘bastards’. He must have come to take her away. Like everyone else. At least she would see her mammy again.

A woman in a red cardigan came past the blue man. ‘Jesus Mary and Joseph, there’s a child here. What’s your name, child?’

Sinead twisted the hem of her dress between her fingers, wishing they would stop staring at her. ‘Sh-Sh-Sinead O’Sullivan,’ she replied.

The woman lifted her up and burst into tears.

Sinead stayed as still as she could for a moment and then wriggled. She wanted to get away. But the woman held on tight.

The blue man and another man went into the caravan. She watched them from the woman’s arms. Her blanket was on the floor beside the empty cornflakes box. The rat from Mammy’s room was eating the crumbs on the couch.

‘Sweet mother of Jesus,’ the other man shouted. ‘How in the name of Christ could they leave a child in a place like this?’

The man had eyes just like Mammy’s.

The blue man took out a notebook. ‘Mrs O’Sullivan, are you a relative of this child?’

The woman tightened her arms around her. She kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes. ‘I’m your grandmother, child, and this is your Uncle Tim,’ she said. ‘You’re coming home with us.’

Sinead’s head jerked as the second slap to her cheek brought her abruptly out of her dream.

‘I think she’s coming round now, boss. I told you that you gave her too much of that stuff.’

‘Get her up and ready. We leave in thirty minutes.’

Rough hands pulled her to her feet and she swayed unsteadily. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. She needed water. The dream had been so real, so vivid. Roro, her mother and the squalid little caravan in Mayo where she had spent the first four years of her life.

‘Bathroom?’ she croaked.

A muscular blond propelled her forwards to the landing and pointed to a brown door. The smell of his cologne triggered a memory. This must be the Max who had carried her out of the van when she had been taken from Gabriel’s home.

The room had seen better days. The mirror was cracked and the tiny sink was stained brown with watermarks. She used the facilities and splashed cold water on her face. She was pale and hollow-eyed. Her hair was a tangled mess. If Niall saw her looking like this, he would probably give her back to the kidnappers.

A thud came on the door. ‘Hurry up. We’re leaving.’

She opened the door and he stood back to allow her to
precede him down the stairs to where another man was waiting in an old-fashioned sitting room. He flashed his teeth in a tight smile that didn’t meet his eyes. How could a man who was so handsome have eyes so cold, Sinead wondered.