Chapter 87
Poe’s immediate reaction was to issue a torrent of unhinged threats.
To tell the triad he was going to burn down his house, that there wasn’t a hole deep enough for him to hide in.
He didn’t. Issuing threats like that would make him feel better, but it would be like trying to blow away the wind. It wouldn’t help get Esmerée back.
Instead, he said, ‘Put her on.’
‘I don’t think so, Mr Ex-Policeman.’
Poe took a deep breath.
Then he hung up.
He looked at Bradshaw. She glanced up from one of the two laptops she had open and nodded in approval. ‘I’ve backdoored into all the town-centre CCTV cameras,’ she said, ‘and I have a live ANPR feed open. When he calls back, try to get something I can work with.’
It had been a long time since Poe had completed his hostage negotiation course, but he remembered some of the basic principles.
Allow heated emotions to dissipate through the passage of time.
Understand the hostage-taker’s motivations.
Collaborate on solving their short-term problems. Help them save face when you came out ahead.
He didn’t think any of that was relevant here.
He’d hurt the Red Chamber guy in the Szechuan Palace.
Twisted his balls, humiliated him. But that wasn’t why Esmerée had been abducted.
The Red Chamber had survived for as long as they had by being rational.
By avoiding rash decisions. That meant they wanted something.
The phone rang. Poe hit the speakerphone button.
‘I’m not talking to you until I know she’s alive,’ he said.
‘Ask me a question, Mr Ex-Policeman,’ Dongyang Dong said.
‘Why can’t you put her on?’
Silence.
Poe knew enough not to play games, not when it didn’t gain him anything.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Ask her what she was getting me from Greggs.’
The phone went dead.
‘I’m calling Alastor Locke,’ Bradshaw said.
Poe shook his head. ‘Estelle first.’
‘Of course! I’ll do it now, Poe.’
Poe only half listened to Bradshaw’s whispered one-sided conversation with Estelle, but he got the gist of it. His wife was dropping everything and driving straight over. Poe was glad.
The phone rang again.
‘Your padawan was getting you a bag of dicks, Mr Ex-Policeman,’ Dongyang Dong said without preamble. ‘I assume she was being American.’
Poe paused a moment. ‘Well, it certainly sounds like her.’
Bradshaw nodded. ‘It’s definitely her, Poe.’
‘Each time we speak, I’ll ask a different question. And I will get an answer.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘I’ll go on television and tell the world what the Red Chamber do. What they really do. You try recruiting girls when they know that all that’s waiting for them at the end of their twenty-year contract is a bullet to the head and a skinned foot.’
The man didn’t respond.
‘Now, tell me what you want,’ Poe said.
‘That’s simple, Mr Ex-Policeman,’ Dong said. ‘We want the mother. We want Océane Blue.’
Poe closed his eyes. That was what he’d been afraid of. That the Red Chamber was going to ask for something he didn’t have. Something he couldn’t get.
‘Then what happens?’
‘We swap. You get the girl; we get the mother.’
‘Fine,’ Poe said. ‘How long do I have?’
‘Forty-eight hours.’
He bit down a sarcastic response. ‘That’s not long enough.’
‘But it’s all the time you have. And the clock’s already started. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.’
‘What if I can’t get her to you in time?’
‘Then you can stop looking.’
The phone went dead.
‘OK then,’ Poe said, his voice flat, his face monstrously calm.