Little Criminals by Gene Kerrigan

Author:Gene Kerrigan [Kerrigan, Gene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781409015772
Publisher: Vintage (UK)
Published: 2005-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

It was noon on Saturday, sixty hours after the kidnap started, before Justin Kennedy got the call. There were no preliminaries, just a terse, ‘Have you got the money yet?’

‘You were supposed to ring after forty-eight hours. Is—’

‘Have you got the money?’

When the call came it was to the house phone. Detective Inspector John Grace was in the kitchen along with one other detective, two technicians and Justin Kennedy. Superintendent Hogg had gone home at two o’clock in the morning. Grace slept in a spare room, close to Kennedy’s bedroom. Kennedy undressed and climbed into bed, for the first time since this began, and fell instantly asleep, his phones close by.

This morning he sat in the kitchen, ignoring the coffee one of the policemen put in front of him. On the counter, over beside the microwave, there were two large, heavy-duty holdalls, supplied by the bank. Half a million in each, in fifties. The presence of a million in cash in his kitchen would in any other circumstances have aroused in Justin Kennedy at least a measure of curiosity. He hadn’t bothered to open the holdalls to look at the cash. He knew from Daragh O’Suilleabhain that everything was in order. The money was of no more interest than the holdalls it was in.

He knew that when the fuckers called the chances were slim that he’d get to say more than a few words to Angela. He’d spent some time deciding what was most important, rejecting words and phrases until he had honed a single reassuring sentence. We all love you very much, the money is on the way, this will soon be over.

There were several phone calls that morning, all casual, family or business. Each time the phone rang, John Grace donned a pair of headphones, a technician started a tape running, Grace nodded and Justin Kennedy picked up the phone. By the time the call came from the kidnappers, just after noon, Kennedy was compulsively rubbing his cheeks, fidgeting in his seat.

‘Have you got the money yet?’

‘You were supposed to ring after forty-eight hours. Is—’

‘Have you got the money?’

‘I need to know if everything is OK with Angela.’

‘Are the cops listening in?’

Kennedy looked up towards Grace, then quickly said what had been agreed. “Yes, you said it would be OK to contact them. Is Angela all right? Can I speak to her?’

‘About the ransom.’

‘Can I speak to Angela? How do I know—’

The voice took on an edge. ‘About the ransom.’

‘I’ve got it, it took a while, but it’s ready. How do you want to do this?’

‘Two million.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Two million, fifties.’

‘You can’t—’

‘The Bryton Bank fuck-up kind of threw me, but I’ve been thinking. No need to go cut-price. Anyone can do the one can do the two.’

‘Now, wait a—’

‘Two million. Another forty-eight hours. I’ll be in touch.’

He rang off.

There was an hysterical edge to Justin Kennedy’s voice when he roared ‘Wait!’

One of the technicians was shaking his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said. John Grace took off the headphones. ‘Did the voice sound familiar, sir?’

‘It sounded like, yes, it was the gang leader.

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