Page 123 of The Black Trilogy

But the bundle of cash was of little comfort as the driver pulled up a little way from the shopping centre with five minutes to spare. Luke would walk the last part alone with Nick as his shadow.

As he exited the car, he felt giddy, dazed almost, and he couldn’t help thinking of the disaster in the woods. What would happen if he messed up this time? Would he receive Tia’s hand? Her foot?

“Careful, buddy,” Nick said, pressing down on Luke’s head in time to stop him hitting it on top of the doorframe.

“Thanks,” Luke muttered, preoccupied with thoughts of his sister. What if they couldn’t get her back?

Outside the car, Nick patted Luke on the back. “Good luck.”

He melted into the darkness before Luke had a chance to reply.

Luke walked slowly along the pavement, his eyes darting from side to side. Where was the kidnapper? A door slammed, and he jumped sideways, splashing dirty water up his legs as he landed in a puddle. Why had he agreed to this? Why did he turn down the offer of a decoy? Shabby homes gave way to derelict buildings, and his hand trembled as he gripped the handle of the bag tighter. Nick and his people may have been in the surrounding shadows, but Luke had never felt more alone in his life.

He’d always thought he could look after himself, but recent events had shaken him. First, his misjudgement of Ash, then his injury in the woods, and finally his inability to get Tia back all left him racked with self-doubt.

What if he failed?

No, don’t think like that.

At the appointed time, Luke stood beside the entrance to the shopping centre, desperately trying to look more in control than he felt. Nick had returned his phone to him in the car, fully charged, and at one minute past six, it vibrated with a message.

Unknown: Follow road to left of shopping centre two hundred metres. Self-storage unit on left. Key at desk in name of Johnson.

Luke relayed the instructions to Nick over the radio, keeping his voice to a whisper in case the kidnapper was nearby.

Nick’s voice came back through his earpiece. “Copy. I’m right behind you, and I’ll send a couple of teams ahead to the storage place.”

Luke increased his pace as he walked, anxious to get the drop over with. A hundred yards to go, then fifty. Could Nick hear his heart hammering over the airwaves?

Ah, there was the storage place, a neon sign out front proclaiming “ elf S ore.” Like the surrounding area, it had seen better days, but possibly not this century.

In the faded lobby, an old lady sat at a desk with the remains of a cheese sandwich on a cracked plate in front of her, cackling at an episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show. She squinted up at Luke through rheumy eyes and attempted a toothless smile.

“Do you have a key for Johnson?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, your brother said you’d be by. Look just like him, you do.”

Really? He looked like the guy? That thought gave Luke the creeps, but he made a mental note to mention it to Nick in case it provided a clue. And what about the name Johnson? Did that mean anything?

Following the old lady’s directions, Luke took the stairs to the first floor, where he found himself outside a shabby wooden door secured by a hasp and a shiny padlock. Was anybody watching? He looked both ways along the corridor, squinting into the gloom at the far end. Nothing, at least, nothing that he could see. The key felt cool in his palm. Should he open the door? What if it was a trap?

His voice shook so much, it took three attempts to speak.

“What do you think?” Luke asked after he’d finally explained the situation. “Should I go in?”

“Not sure you’ve got a choice. Just go slowly and carefully, and stop if you feel any resistance.”

“All right.” Luke slid the key in the lock. “I’m not sure if it means anything, but the old lady on the desk reckoned I look like the man who rented this storage unit. Does that help? Maybe we have the same colour hair?”

“We’ll bear that in mind. Now, try the door.”

The padlock was well oiled, and the door swung open smoothly. A single, bare bulb lit the small space, swinging in a hint of a draught. Ahead of him, Luke saw a bag, a pile of clothes, a cheap mobile phone, and a note.

He picked up the note first.

Swap the money and the software into the bag on the floor. Strip off all your clothes and shoes and put on the ones next to the bag. Don’t even think of keeping any electronics on you other than the phone supplied, or your sister dies. And smile, you’re on camera.

In the far corner above Luke’s head, the red light of a CCTV camera blinked among the cobwebs. Great. He didn’t dare speak to Nick—he wasn’t a ventriloquist, after all. And what if the camera also had a microphone?

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