Night Over Water by Ken Follett Page B

pregnant. Flying was all right for a single man, but he was not going to spend his life away from his wife and children. He had been saving money and he had almost enough to start a business of his own. He had an option on a site near Bangor, Maine, that would make a perfect airfield. He would service planes and sell fuel, and eventually have an aircraft for charter. Secretly he dreamed that one day he might have an airline of his own, like the pioneering Juan Trippe, founder of Pan American.
    He entered the grounds of the Langdown Lawn Hotel. It was a piece of luck for Pan American crews that there was such a pleasant hotel a mile or so from the Imperial Airways complex. The place was a typical English country house, run by a gracious couple who charmed everyone and served tea on the lawn on sunny afternoons.
    He went inside. In the hall he ran into his assistant engineer, Desmond Finn—known, inevitably, as Mickey. Mickey reminded Eddie of the Jimmy Olsen character in the Superman comics: he was a happy-go-lucky type with a big toothy grin and a propensity to hero-worship Eddie, who found such adoration embarrassing. He was speaking into the telephone, and now when he saw Eddie he said: “Oh, wait. You’re lucky. He just walked in.” He handed the earpiece to Eddie and said: “A phone call for you.” Then he went upstairs, politely leaving Eddie alone.
    Eddie spoke into the phone. “Hello?”
    “Is this Edward Deakin?”
    Eddie frowned. The voice was unfamiliar, and nobody called him Edward. He said: “Yes, I’m Eddie Deakin. Who are you?”
    “Wait. I have your wife on the line, ”
    Eddie’s heart lurched. Why was Carol-Ann calling him from the States? Something was wrong.
    A moment later he heard her voice. “Eddie?”
    “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
    She burst into tears.
    A whole series of awful explanations came to mind: the house had burned down, someone had died, she had hurt herself in some kind of accident, she had suffered a miscarriage—
    “Carol-Ann, calm down. Are you all right?”
    She spoke through sobs. “I’m ... not ... hurt—”
    “What, then?” he said fearfully. “What’s happened? Try to tell me, babe.”
    “These men... came to the house.”
    Eddie went cold with dread. “What men? What did they do?”
    “They made me get into a car.”
    “Jesus God, who are they?” The anger was like a pain in his chest and he had to fight for breath. “Did they hurt you?”
    “I’m all right ... but, Eddie, I’m so scared.”
    He did not know what to say next. Too many questions came to his lips. Men had gone to his house and forced Carol-Ann to get into a car! What was happening? Finally he said: “But why?”
    “They won’t tell me.”
    “What did they say?”
    “Eddie, you have to do what they want—that’s all I know.”
    Even in his anger and fear, Eddie heard Pop say Never sign a blank check. All the same he did not hesitate. “I’ll do it, but what—”
    “Promise! ”
    “I promise!”
    “Thank God.”
    “When did this happen?”
    “A couple of hours ago.”
    “Where are you now?”
    “We’re in a house not far—Her speech turned into a shocked cry.
    “Carol-Ann! What’s happening? Are you okay?”
    There was no response. Furious, frightened and impotent, Eddie squeezed the phone until his knuckles turned white.
    Then the original male voice returned. “Listen to me very carefully, Edward. ”
    “No, you listen to me, shitheel,” Eddie raged. “If you hurt her I’ll kill you, I swear to God, I’ll track you down if it takes as long as I live, and when I find you, you punk, I’ll tear your head off your neck with my hands. Now do you read me loud and clear?”
    There was a moment’s hesitation, as if the man at the other end of the line had not expected such a tirade. Then he said: “Don’t act tough. You’re too far away.” He sounded a little shaken, but he was right: Eddie could do nothing. The man went on: “Just pay attention.”
    Eddie held