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Chapter 7

The office was crowded, but no one looked at them. Strike had his fold up stick with him, but he would only use it if he had to. Barclay was with him. He had wanted to come. Strike didn't really know why, but he didn't argue.

"That them?" Barclay nodded towards Wardle's small office. The Ellacotts were there, standing together talking.

"Yeah, that's them. You didn't need to come."

"I'm your back up."

"You're what?" Strike started to laugh.

"They have it out for you. I'm your back up. Let's go."

Without waiting for an answer, Barclay walked to the door and knocked. Wardle was opening it by the time Strike had limped over.

"Wardle. You've met Barclay?"

"Yeah, we've met. Come in."

Strike had to give it to him, Barclay strode in and sat at the table. Not a care in the world. The Ellacotts stood looking at him. But he didn't take any notice, just pulling out the chair next to him, motioning for Strike to sit. Which he did.

"The ransom came in early this morning... £100,000." Barclay whistled. "We've been filled in, whoever is behind this... they seem to have their wires crossed. There's no money."

"What d'you mean?"

"We're comfortable... but not that comfortable."

"Whoever it was must have planned it enough to know where you were and where she would be. They must have thought you had the money." Strike looked at Wardle as he spoke, not letting his eyes go to Linda, who was making a show of ignoring him.

"Well, either way," Wardle massaged his forehead, "the ransom is due tonight at six."

"That soon? Fuck." Strike saw Linda look at Barclay was he spoke. She didn't know what to make of him.

"There's no money." Michaels' voice broke as he said it. Strike felt he had to speak.

"We'll find it. I promise."

oOo

He had the money. Wardle was shocked, but stopped asking when told. It was almost six. He was in a taxi to the cemetery. That's where they wanted to exchange the money for Robin.

"Don't even think about it."

"I'm going Eric. I'm not leaving her."

"I know. I'm not asking you to do that. But you need to wait on us. You can't do it alone." But Strike hung up, redialling straight away. "Barclay?"

"You got it?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way to the drop now. It's close to the office... well closer than to the Met. You still ok being my back up?"

"Hell yes. I'm on my-"

"Wait. Go upstairs – key is in my desk drawer. There's - a gun. Under the bed. You might be better-"

"Got ya, see you soon." He hung up.

oOo

The air was warm. He felt the heaviness of his warm jacket in the heat. The sweat on his face. But he didn't slow down. They wanted to meet at the furthest corner, up the hill, beside the biggest tree. Strike looked upward, groaning. The hill was steeper than he thought it would be. His knee aching with each step. But the adrenaline coursing through his body kept him going.

As the ground started to flatten, the air was cooler as the shadow of the tree reached him. Then he saw them. Well, he saw Robin first. She was sitting back on her calves, head bowed, chest heaving. A large man on either side of her. Another guy stood with his back to Strike, but turned sharply as Strike stood on fallen, crunchy leaves. He narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not who he had expected.

But Strike didn't notice. When he had made the noise, her head had snapped up, her eyes looking terrified. She hadn't expected him either. He looked at her and smiled. She had a bruise around her left eye and a split in her lip. She was wearing a pale grey jogging suit. She had changed her clothing. Strike saw red, the polaroid's from the night before flashing in his head.

"What the fuck have you done to her?!" He dropped the heavy bag as he stepped forward. The guys beside her stepped forward too. Strike didn't care. But Robin seemed to.

"Nothing! Cormoron, nothing! They didn't..."

"Shut up!" This was obviously the guy in charge. He turned back towards Strike "So, you have my money?" Strike had to pull his eyes from Robin to answer.

"Yeah, I've got it."

"Give it to me."

Walking closer to him was not what Strike had in mind. But he wanted Robin, so he picked up the bag and walked over. As soon as he felt the guy grab the strap, Strike knew it had been a mistake. The bag was pulled sharply, Strike pitching forward, feeling the hand grab his arm, pulling him forward and pushing him to the ground. He felt someone kick his torso, then his chest, then finally his sore knee. This is when he yelled out. He heard Robin scream.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!"

"I told you to shut up!" He guy turned to his men, "Get him up, get him over there."

Strike felt himself be pulled semi-upright, being dragged to the base of the tree. He was standing, but only because he wanted to seem stronger than he was. He felt something around his neck. Robin had been hauled to her feet, being forced away from him, struggling to get closer. Her eyes widened when she saw what was around his neck. It was a noose.

"What's the plan here?" Strike looked at the guy in charge, trying to keep him talking long enough, waiting for Wardle.

"We're leaving. You're waiting here. You'll just be hanging around," he laughed at his own joke.

"And her?" Silence. The guy walked up to him, whispering in his ear.

"She's coming with us. To a place where no one will find her, a place no one will hear her scream. We can do what we want to her. Strip her down... tie her up... each get our turn. I want that to be the last thing you think about. The filthy things we will do to her – and you can't do anything to stop it."

Strike tried to not let it show how much this threat hit home. He felt the bile in his throat and couldn't help but picture everything described. He stared ahead, right at Robin, glad she couldn't hear what he did. The guy stepped back, smirked, and nodded at one of his guys, who had walked beside the tree. Strike suddenly felt the rope tighten around his neck, but not lifting from the ground, he was too heavy. The other guy came to help pull him up, Robin taking the chance and running up to Strike, trying to prise the rope from his neck, his hands grabbing her, "I won't leave you. I won't..." He felt her being pulled away.

"No! Stop! Please... I'll do anything, anything you want. Just let him go, please!"

"Aww that's nice... you hear that? She's practically begging for it."

But Strike didn't hear anymore, he felt his feet leave the ground, he scratched at his throat, but the noose kept tightening. He stopped moving upwards, they hadn't been able to lift him far. They were tying the rope, holding him in place. He couldn't breathe, his head pounding, feeling like it would explode. He couldn't swallow, couldn't see. He was dying. As he finally closed his eyes, all he saw was Robin. Tied up and screaming in pain.