III

The latest GPS transmission had come from a wooded hill off the Ilakaka road. Knox passed a likely track but didn’t stop at once, lest it was being watched. Then he saw wisps of smoke rising from the hillside and had a sudden dread that he was already too late, so he turned around and drove back, hid his bike in the trees and continued on foot, keeping to the verges so that he could take cover should anyone—

Rebecca came charging out of the trees to his left, yelling and swinging a rock. He put up his arms to protect himself, but she’d already recognised him. ‘You!’ she said. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ But then she saw the GPS handset and her question answered itself. ‘I left that for Therese!’ she protested.

‘For God’s sake,’ he said. ‘You can’t take on this kind of thing alone. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘They told me not to.’ Her eyes filled with dismay. ‘They’ve got Adam and Emilia. They said they’d kill them if I told anyone at all.’

‘They’re alive? You’re sure?’

‘I spoke to my father. He said “we’re both well”. He said “we”.’

‘That’s fantastic!’ said Knox.

‘But I’m late,’ she said. ‘I’m so late.’

‘Then let’s get moving, eh?’ He took the holdall from her, led her down to the motorbike, pulled it out of the trees. ‘Where to?’ he asked.

‘They said to turn right after an orange roadside stall. There was a stall. It looked sort of orange.’ She started breathing fast, fighting down panic. ‘I must have got it wrong.’

He could see how close to the edge she was. He put his hand to her cheek. ‘Listen to me, Rebecca,’ he said. ‘Kidnappers have strong nerves. They have to, by definition; they wouldn’t be in the business otherwise. They’re greedy too. Five hundred million ariary is a ton of money. So this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You understand?’

She nodded, covered his hand with her own. ‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said. ‘Things got on top of me.’

‘It was my fault,’ he told her. ‘I should have told you the truth about myself that first night. I had good reasons not to, I swear, but even so I should have—’

‘It’s okay,’ she said. She gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Explanations can wait. Right now we need to get going.’

He nodded, straddled the bike, balanced the holdall on his lap. Rebecca climbed on behind, anchored herself to him with her right arm. He drove to the main road, turned towards Ilakaka. It was about ten minutes before they reached a vividly orange roadside stall with a thinly grassed avenue on the right just after it. He didn’t look around, lest she take it as reproach, just swung right down the track, followed it to a bright glade with an ancient tamarind at its centre. He circled it once, idled to a stop, waited for Rebecca to get off, then rocked the bike up on to its stands.

‘There should be a bag,’ she said. ‘A yellow bag.’

‘They must have been back already. Write a note. Explain what happened. Assure them you have the money and want to give it to them. Give them a way to contact you.’

She nodded and took a pen from her bag, uncapped it with her teeth, was scribbling her note when she hesitated and looked around. ‘There’s no mobile signal in Eden,’ she said.

‘So we’ll stay in Tulear tonight.’

‘What was the name of that hotel?’

He told her. She wrote it down, pinned the note with a stone at the base of the tamarind. He couldn’t help but notice that she was doing everything with her right hand. ‘What’s up with your left arm?’ he frowned, as she walked back to the bike.

‘My shoulder,’ she told him. ‘I dislocated it when I crashed the Jeep.’

‘For fuck’s sake! Why didn’t you say?’

‘It’s okay. I put it back.’

‘You what?’

‘It’s no big deal,’ she assured him, as she climbed back astride the bike. ‘You just slam it against the nearest tree.’