Kidnapped

The ringing intruded harshly into Janet Crowe's subconscious dreams, getting louder by the second. Reaching out to thump the alarm clock, she knocked it off the bedside table sending it crashing onto the unforgiving tiled floor.
Groaning irritably, she sat up and then saw it was the phone ringing not her alarm clock.  Her anger evaporated a little when she saw what the time was; the hands of the clock now pointing permanently towards six thirty a.m. Reaching over, she grabbed the receiver.
"Hello?"

"Good morning, Mrs Crow, sorry to disturb your sleep, but we thought you would like to know that we have your husband." Janet had to hold the phone closer to her ear as the speaker's voice was so soft.

"Well, bully for you!" she replied sarcastically. So he had got to his precious meeting. Why did he think I was interested? She remembered him telling her he would be leaving early this morning. A meeting, or some such thing, in London, he'd said last night during one of the few rare moments they now spoke civilly to each other.

Their arguments, more frequent lately, and harsher. She grimaced, remembering the spiteful words they had slung at each other after the social event they'd been to last Saturday.

The softly spoken voice continued, "No, it's not bully for me.  It's more like -- if you want to see him again -- alive, you will do exactly what I tell you to." The voice stopped to let her words sink in for a moment. Satisfied that she had Janet's whole attention now, she carried on.

"First, you will be at the bank as soon as it opens and order one million, five hundred thousand pounds in used mixed notes. It will take about twenty four hours for the bank to get this amount and clear it. When you have done that, you will return home and wait for further instructions."

Janet rolled her eyes towards the heavens, livid now she realised a first-class prat had woken her.
"Don't be so bloody ridiculous!" Slamming down the phone, she grabbed her pillow and began thumping it. Before she finished venting her anger, the phone rang again. "What?" She shouted again down the phone, "Whoever you are, grow up!"

"You hang up again, Janet, and you will be very sorry."
The quiet composure of her voice intimidated Janet. She now realised this, 'prat' was deadly serious.  Furthermore, she knew her Christian name, and of course she had her phone number; it didn't take much to work out the caller would also know where she lived.

"Who the hell are you? If you do have my husband, which I very much doubt, and if you are seriously asking me for that absurd amount of money, I should tell you now, even if I sold everything we own I still wouldn't have nearly enough." Janet was surprised to hear herself speaking so calmly.  She certainly was not feeling it.

There followed a deliberate sigh, "Look, perhaps you don't know your husband won the lottery. That's your problem, not ours. Just follow your instructions then you and family will be left alone. Do you understand what I'm saying?" 

Janet held the phone away from her and stared. Had she heard right?

"Did you hear me, Janet?"

"Yes," Janet cringed at the way her voice betrayed her surprise.  "Look," she hedged, "if there was the slightest possibility that he'd won this...this vast amount of money, and if, as you suggested, he hadn't told me, I would have thought he would put it into an account that I knew nothing about. The fact is we both have separate accounts with different pin numbers. I don't know his."

She felt a little smile creep over her face. Yay! You didn't expect that did you? Now what will you do? Ha! Her triumph was short lived though.

"If you think I am going to fall for that one..."

"It's the truth!" Janet cut in abruptly. "We do have one joint account which is for the bills, and we do both know the password and pin number of that one. I have a personal savings account, and so has Peter, but I am sure he doesn't have that sort of money, and I know my account hasn't much in it, certainly not the amount you are asking for...Are you sure you've kidnapped the right man? I can't believe he would be capable of keeping that sort of win a secret. Why would he hide it from me?"
She paused, yes, why would he hide it from me? Unless... "If he does have that amount then the only way I can access it is...is if you can get him to give you his password and pin number." Janet finished in a rush.

The silence that followed was deafening, Janet held her breath, waiting for her to say she was right, they had made a mistake this time. Then she heard a mumbling on the line, an argument? Moments later, she surprised Janet by giving her the information she needed.

"Go to the bank today; I will phone back later. Be ready...and don't even think of calling the police, or I can promise you the only way you will see your husband again is in a body-bag." With that, she hung up.

Janet tried to check the number by pressing the last call button, but was told the number had been withheld.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
No longer tired, Janet swung her long legs out from under the covers and got up. Pacing up and down, she then left her bedroom and walked down the corridor to Peter's room. It looked exactly as it always did, immaculate, just the way he liked everything in his life, immaculate! Everything had a place and should be kept there, even me! Her eyes hardened as she looked at his slippers placed in regimental order by his bed. A smile hovered on her lips as she looked at them, then with a childish satisfaction, she went and kicked them under his bed! Laughing, she collapsed on his bed. "Grow up, I told her...and now look at me!"

A few minutes later she sat up and deliberated on what her husband's kidnapper had told her to do. She had no choice, but to believe what she'd said regarding the safety of Peter and, of course, there was the lottery win he was 'alleged' to have won. Going back into her own bedroom, she stood there looking at the phone. Crazy thoughts began to formulate, each one unhindered, questions: What if...? Would he...? Could I...? dismissing each one as they came. They were mad ideas...and yet...

For the past two years Peter and Janet led separate lives and no longer slept together. It started when Peter came home in the early hours of the morning after being kept late at conferences. At that time he'd thoughtfully told her he didn't want to disturb her sleep, but gradually he stopped coming to the master-bedroom altogether even when he came home at a normal time.

Janet reached for her dressing gown hanging on the back of the bedroom door.  Flicking her unruly mass of dark, slightly greying curly hair out from inside the collar, she wrapped the gown around her tightly and began pacing again, up and down, for a still thinking, still trying to decide, and still trying to take it in. One and a half million pounds! That's impossible... isn't it?
Finally, she made up her mind and made two calls, one private and one to the police.

Living on the outskirts of town, but not too far from the police station. It didn't take long before two police officers and Detective Hugh Riley arrived. Janet opened the door and ushered them in.

"You were right to call us," Hugh told her solemnly after Janet had, again, repeated her conversation with the kidnapper. "Some don't - with disastrous consequences."

"That was what I thought. I just hope we're right, Detective Riley."

"Hugh...Please." He smiled warmly -- reassuring her. "We don't like giving in to the demands of kidnappers, and I doubt very much the bank will give you the money just like that." The detective sat down at the dining table, and then took out his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a card. He stared at it thoughtfully. "Now, you say your husband has never mentioned this, 'alleged' lottery win, and you had no idea there was another account in his name?"

"No...to both questions, not the tiniest inkling." Janet shifted her weight onto her left hip and folded her arms, trying very hard to keep the frustration at bay. "We both have our own passwords for our own accounts, but if this woman is right and the details she has given me are true, then Peter has an account that I don't know about. We will see when I go to the bank."

Hugh frowned and tapped the card on the table for a moment, then stood up and walked over to her.
"I think we will play her little game and see what develops when you're there," he told her. "This number will transfer any call from the station to my mobile phone; tell the bank manager that the police are involved and any questions he has, to ring this number, OK?"

She nodded, taking the card from his hand.

"I've arranged for an officer to put a trace on your phone," Hugh told her. "He will be here directly to set it up and then Conner and Turner will track any calls you receive. When you do get the next phone call, just speak naturally, we don't want them to know you've brought us in."
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Janet moved on automatic pilot, not listening any more to what was being said. Her thoughts were now very clear and coldly rational. If he has all that money in the bank and didn't tell me...Well, we will have to see if it's true...if it is, then... Suddenly everything began to make sense; it hit her like a cricket ball after being struck for a six.  Anger took over as suddenly all the rows, the late nights, the trips to London, everything became clear.

"I think we had better get started, I'll just slip into some clothes. I won't be long."

Janet ran lightly up the stairs and went into her bedroom closing the door behind her. In the en-suite bathroom, she leant against the sink and turned the tap on to splash her face with cold water. She looked in the mirror and tried to take stock of her life. She wasn't bad looking, not young, but certainly not old. In her prime, she liked to tell herself. Her figure was slim with highly toned muscle everywhere, proof of all the hours she spends in the gym.
Her married life, well, that was a different story. There had been many heated arguments followed by cold silences. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, "What a stupid bloody fool I've been!"
Janet went through the motions of getting herself dressed and brushing her hair, she looked at her watch, Nine thirty, already. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, noting with grim satisfaction that she looked calm, then opened the door and went back downstairs to face the police.

"I'm ready." She gave a determined smile and walked across the room. "It's the bank on the corner of Brad Street...Lloyds."

Janet reached for her car keys, hanging up on a hook behind the hallway cupboard, then went through the adjoining door from her utility room to the garage and climbed into her car. The garage door opened once she had pressed the remote control button.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
The bank was already busy when she stepped inside to join the queue. Janet looked around, casually looking at the people without being obvious. She saw Hugh sitting at a desk supposedly filling out a form.  She ignored him, covertly eyeing up the people around her. Everyone looks so 'normal' if that meant anything. The kidnapper could be here right now! A plan, I need a plan. I really should have taken more notice of the 007 films. She suddenly giggled at the thought of her being a spy, 006 and a half. She giggled again, and the man in front of her turned and gave her a puzzled look.

At last, it was her turn.  Janet smiled at the reaction her request brought her when she told the bank teller she wanted to order one and a half million pounds from her husband's account. But, when Janet went on to add that she wanted the money in used notes, it really brought a look of alarm to the girl's face. Standing up, the girl told her she would have to get the manager, Mr Radcliffe, as it was such a large amount of money. Janet just nodded as the girl got up from her seat and went away.

When the girl came back, she asked Janet to follow her, and led her to the Manager's office.
"Good morning, Mrs Crowe," Mr Radcliffe, stood up extending his hand to shake hers. "Please...sit down." He pointed to the chair opposite him. "Now, I understand you want to draw out a substantial amount of money, and you want it by tomorrow?"

"That's right," she replied, nodding, already opening her handbag, "I also asked for it to be in used notes."

Mr Radcliffe just nodded. "I see you want to draw it from your husband's account. I'm afraid without your husband's written authorization, it will not be possible...Can I ask why you would want such a large amount of money so quickly?"

"It is a large amount of money, and we anticipated your refusal." She took the card from her handbag that Detective Riley had given her, and handed it to the Manager. "I think it would be better if you rang this number," Janet told him.

Mr Radcliffe took the card and read it. When his left eyebrow shot up, Janet nearly laughed aloud, but managed to cough instead!

"The police?" he looked at her vacantly.

Janet just nodded.

After a brief conversation with Detective Riley, Mr Radcliffe put the phone back in its cradle.
"I see. I am really sorry, Mrs Crowe. If I can help with anything else, just ask."

"You are very kind," Janet bowed her head, really wanting to laugh now.

What is wrong with me? She opened her handbag again, took out a tissue, and held it by her eyes. When she lifted her face again, Mr Radcliffe was watching her, his eyes full of concern.

"Now don't you worry yourself, Mrs Crowe, leave it in my hands. I will have to talk to my superiors, but I am sure there won't be a problem under these dreadful circumstances. I shall make sure the money is here for you by three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

Janet left the bank looking ahead, unaware of the young bank teller watching her. Back in her car, she looked at her hands placed firmly on the steering wheel. She was surprised to find they weren't shaking.

Janet drove her car into the garage and with the remote control, closed the garage door. In the kitchen, she threw her handbag and car keys on the kitchen table and then put the kettle on. She stood and looked around, not sure what should happen now.

Detective Riley and the two officers came in a few minutes later. "You did well," Hugh smiled. "It will soon be over, and I'm confident that we will have your husband home and this woman in jail where she belongs." Both officers nodded in agreement.

Janet gave a small smile back. "I've put the kettle on, would you like coffee or tea?" she asked as she took her coat off and laid it over the back of the sofa. "And a sandwich? Its lunch time and I really want to keep busy."

"That's a good idea. I think we could all do with some refreshment...if you are sure," replied Detective Riley, and the two officers nodded their thanks.

With lunch out of the way, and the dishes in the dishwasher, they were now all looking at the phone sitting ominously in its cradle. Janet's thoughts went back again to the night before when they'd had that argument. It had been a real humdinger, worse than any they'd had before. She'd heard him when he took his shower earlier and hadn't bothered to get up, and he hadn't come into her room before he'd left, but there was nothing different about that; only the slamming of the front door had told her he'd gone. It seemed so long ago now, and she tried hard to remember what the argument had been about. Something trivial as usual, she decided.

The room was quiet, no-one spoke; the only sound was the ticking from her old grandfather clock. The loud tick-tock tick-tock, was hypnotic, she felt her body swaying to its rhythm.

When the phone did ring, they all jumped. Detective Riley put his headphones on to listen in and, Conner and Turner put theirs on, when they were ready, Hugh looked at Janet and nodded towards the phone.

Her hand lifted and hesitated. She took a deep breath and grabbed the phone and slowly brought it up to her ear.

"Hello?" She coughed, clearing her throat, and repeated, "Hello?"

"Hi honey, what are you up to? Could you do lunch tomorrow, instead of Saturday? It's my turn to pay this time, remember."

"Oh, hi Mum. I'm in the middle of something right now, can I ring you back later?" Janet kept her voice as calm as she could--she didn't want her mother here or even to know what was happening, she had always thought the sun shone out of Peter's backside!  "I'll call you later, promise."

She hung up and sat back in her chair again. Everyone in the room appeared to slump. With nerves all on edge, it was hardly surprising. A few more minutes passed, and then the phone rang again. This time Janet grabbed at the phone and almost shouted down the line.
"Hello?"

"How did you get on?" Janet was getting used to her soft deliberate voice now, and took a deep breath before answering.

"The money will be ready for me to pick up tomorrow at three o'clock."

"OK. Then you will go back to the bank tomorrow just before three o'clock taking a small hand luggage flight bag with you into which you will put the cash. Once you have the money, take the tube to Heathrow Airport, and leave it under the second seat in the second carriage. You will then walk away and get off at the next stop. Have you got all that?"

"Yes...the second carriage...second seat...to Heathrow Airport. What if someone else picks it up?"

"They won't." The call ended.

Janet stood there for a moment, just looking at the phone. Then Detective Riley broke into her thoughts and said gently, "We didn't have enough time to make the trace...I'm sorry."

"What? Oh! No, not your fault..." she was still staring at the phone in her hand. Slowly, she bent and put it down. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while. I just need time..."

"Of course. I will have a man outside at all times and, if you need anything, just holler."
As Detective Riley ushered his men out the room, he turned once more to look at Janet. "You're sure you're OK?"

"Yes...and...thank you. She smiled distractedly. Then she was on her own.

Running up two flights of stairs, Janet opened the door to her attic and switched the light on, seeing what she wanted was right in front of her, she smiled and collected everything up and took them downstairs into her utility room.
The bags were covered in dust and needed a good clean, inside and out.

"Not a problem," she muttered quietly.  It didn't take her long, and soon they were as good as new. An hour later, after clearing away all the mess she'd made, Janet went out the utility door into the adjoining garage. She checked out her car.  Petrol tank was full. She'd only filled it two days ago.  Next, she opened the boot and put one bag under the blanket, and then took the other one to lay on the floor by the passenger seat. Satisfied she had everything ready for the next day, she had enough time to have a nice soak in the bath and relax. It had been a long, harrowing, and tiring day.

The following morning dawned bright and sunny, and Janet went downstairs to the kitchen to put the coffee on. She looked outside and another officer, she hadn't met, was sitting in his car across the road.

"Coffee?" she mouthed, miming a cup in her hand and bringing it to her mouth. He smiled back and nodded.

"Were you out there all night?" Janet asked him, as he stretched and cracked his bones.

"No, I took over from Conner at four this morning. Not too bad really." He smiled and gratefully accepted the steaming cup of coffee. "You look rested," he added.

"I took a sleeping tablet," she told him, "I knew if I didn't sleep I would feel like nothing on earth this morning, and I need to be able to focus today."

They finished their coffee and the toast she had made, buttered with marmalade spread on top, then she began to prepare for the days event.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Janet spotted Hugh in his car further down the road but didn't acknowledge him, instead turned into the road and straight drove past. He had put a tracer on the undercarriage of her car, so they wouldn't be noticed when they followed her. Parking in the banks own car park, Janet took the case from the passenger side floor and stepped out of the car. She felt surprisingly calm, not nervous, and certainly not stressed at all. Locking the door, she walked slowly round to the front of the bank and went inside.

They were waiting for her. The Manager, Mr Radcliffe, was in the foyer, and nodded encouragingly to Janet as she came through the door. Janet noticed there were more security officers around, armed. She ignored them and walked straight up to the Manager.

"We have everything ready, Mrs Crowe, if you would like to come into my office we will go through it with you."

"Thank you," Janet gave him a small but very nervous smile; now the time had come she was really feeling nervous. Cupping her elbow in his hand, he led her to his office. She could feel eyes on her from all sides of the bank; her breathing was becoming rapid, her legs felt leaden and heavy. Once in his office, Janet sank gratefully into the first chair.

"Are you alright?" Mr Radcliffe asked her in a fatherly fashion, "You don't look it. Do you think you can do this?"

"I have to." Janet slumped back in the chair. "If I don't...Well..." she faltered, lowering her eyes.

"Yes...of course. You will be fine. You have support all around you, nothing bad will happen. Let's get this money packed into your bag." He went round to the front of his desk and pressed a buzzer. Within seconds, the door opened and two burly security men came in with a white, heavy coarse-looking sacking bag and put it on the manager's desk.

"OK, let's get it in your case." Mr Radcliffe nodded to the men, and watched as they opened the bag.

"Will it all fit?" gasped Janet, staring at all the money in amazement. "There is a lot there." She cast doubtful eyes at the flight bag she had brought with her.

"Your husband's kidnappers knew what they were doing, my dear, it will hold it perfectly. Why don't you just sit back and let us sort it out."

Janet watched. Intrigued as bundle by bundle, the notes went into the case. When they had finished, the money was level with the top of the bag, not another note could go in it.

"All done." The security men stood back, waiting.

"These officers will escort you to your car, Mrs Crowe, once you are in it, make sure you lock all the doors and don't stop for anything but the traffic lights." Mr Radcliffe helped Janet to her feet and looked closely into her eyes. "Is there anything...anything else I can do?"

"Thank you, but no. I have to do this on my own.  Those were the instructions. Thank you, Mr Radcliffe; you have been so very kind."

At the car, Janet unlocked the boot and put the bag inside then closed it, making sure it was securely closed. The security officers watched her as she climbed into the driver's seat and locked the doors then gave a brave smile in thanks to the two men. Deep breath, and then she started the engine and drove out of the car park, knowing the police and Detective Riley would be somewhere behind her.

The road to Piccadilly Circus underground tube station was busy at this time of day, but so far, Janet had had a clear run through. She parked up as close as she could, took the case out of the boot, then walked the last few yards into the station.

The tube to Heathrow Airport 5 was due in; Janet hurried down to the platform just in time to see the tube come to a stop. Going through the sliding doors Janet then made her way to carriage 2 and was stunned to find the second seat was empty. She moved down the aisle and was about to sit down when the tube lurched forward making Janet grab hold of the hand rail to stop herself from falling. Once she was seated, she clutched the bag to her chest and nervously looked around.

She's here. I know it, she's watching me, I can feel her eyes on me. Janet put the bag on the floor by her feet then opened her handbag and took out a hand mirror and lipstick. Pretending to repair her make-up, she slowly used her feet to gently push the bag under her seat. All done, she put her make-up away and closed her bag.

The tube slowed as it came into the next station and Janet got up and walked to the nearest door. Just before getting off, she turned round; there was a woman already sitting in her seat appearing to read, her face down so Janet couldn't get a clear look at her. Janet frowned; there was something about her...something very familiar...

Stepping off the train, Janet was bustled along with the rest of the commuters to the exit gates where she hailed a taxi to take her back to Piccadilly Circus and her car. Back home in the safety of her garage, Janet checked the boot of her car, and smiled.
Hugh turned up three hours later with the news that they had caught the woman.

"It was Sonia!" Janet told him, "Peter's secretary. I knew as soon as I saw her hair. It baffled me for a moment.  She seemed so familiar, yet I couldn't understand why until I saw the crown of her hair.  it has a very distinctive 'v' shape.  She hated it.  It didn't matter what she did. She could never hide the two partings."

"Feisty little thing too!" Hugh laughed. "Turner was there waiting for her at the next station in case she got off there. Conner stayed on the train and followed her when she got off at that stop. When Turner collared her, she gave him a hell of a blow to his nose, blood everywhere. Not only that, but in the time it took for her to get from the train to the exit, the case had gone!"

"So she did pass it to someone.  You said she might." Janet looked amazed, "How could you have known?"

"We are used to these types, so we can mostly prepare ourselves for these events. Not always, though, sometimes we end up with egg on our faces."

"So where is Peter?" Janet asked.

"Apparently, scuba diving somewhere off the coast of Mexico. The third person was Sonia's brother. He will probably be on a plane to Mexico as we speak; he certainly did not wait for his sister.

"When Peter won the lottery, he, Sonia, and her brother, got together and worked out a way that they could keep all the money and prevent you having any of it. If you had known about it, he would have had to share it with you if,or when, the marriage failed. To prevent this, they hatched up this little plan.

"If he was kidnapped and the ransom paid, they would just disappear. You would never have heard from him again, and Sonia and Peter would have lived happily ever after. Of course, he never gave it a thought that you would not pay the ransom; that was his downfall. As the money was legally his, it would not be classed as theft, but the waste of police time would have put him in prison for a while."

Hugh stopped smiling and looked seriously at Janet. He put his large hands on her shoulders, and said, "No regrets?"

"None, not the tiniest little bit!" she replied, looking lovingly into Hugh's warm, crinkly eyes.

"I would love to be there when he opens the bag in front of Peter." Hugh grinned, taking Janet in his arms. "He can't say anything, and he certainly won't come back, and if he does, who will believe him?"

Janet laughed, "So where are the bags?"

"In my car...with your hand luggage as well. Shall we then?"

"Yes, I understand that the Bahamas are wonderful at this time of the year!"