Ben Hope. Scott Mariani
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for sheer buzz and hubbub. Seafood merchants were pulling in scrums of customers for fresh crab and clams and shrimp. There were handicrafts and tourist trinkets and clothes and more exotic varieties of fruit and vegetables than Ben could identify. They passed cafés and small restaurants and musicians and stalls selling mountains of chillies and okra and nuts and teas, all adding to the sensory overload of smells, sounds and colours.
Brooke’s fair skin and auburn hair were drawing a lot of looks from men. Hence the shawl that covered her shoulders and protected her from more prying eyes. Ben threw back a few warning glances at the oglers, who quickly looked away. The white knight, protecting the damsel. Who, in this instance, was someone else’s damsel. Another painful reminder, but he only had himself to blame.
‘It happened down there.’ Brooke pointed down a narrow lane to their left, and turned off the main street away from the bustle. Ben followed. There were no stalls along here, and just enough space for a vehicle to squeeze between the crumbly buildings. She stopped and looked uncomfortably around her, then at Ben. ‘This is it. The restaurant we wanted to go to is at the bottom of this lane. Needless to say, we didn’t get that far.’
‘Pretty public spot to pull off a kidnapping,’ he commented.
‘It’s so much busier by day. There was hardly anyone around to witness what happened. And if anyone did, they soon disappeared.’
Ben stood in the middle of the lane and turned a slow three-sixty, scanning details and forming a scene in his mind. He pictured a couple walking. Not a happy pair, because of the troubles weighing on their minds. But things were about to get much worse for them.
He said, ‘Okay, describe it to me.’
Brooke said, ‘By the time we got here I was already regretting that I’d dragged him out of the house. We’d walked in silence for the last few minutes. I was annoyed that he wouldn’t tell me what Kabir had told him, and I could sense that he was feeling bad about the whole thing. I think he really wanted to share it with me. Maybe he would have, over dinner, or later that evening. But there was no later that evening.’
She turned to face back towards the lane entrance. ‘The van came from that direction. It turned into the lane, came right for us and screeched to a halt right here.’ She pointed at the ground. ‘You can still see the tyre marks.’
Ben had already clocked the black stains on the road. Nothing of any great forensic value to discern from those, except that a heavy vehicle had come to an abrupt stop and shed some rubber.
‘It happened so fast that neither of us reacted in time. We were caught like a couple of deer in the headlights. Totally defenceless.’
Ben said, ‘How many guys?’
‘Six, not counting the driver. He stayed behind the wheel while the rest of them jumped out. One from the front passenger seat, two from a sliding door on the side, and the other three from the back. They were all wearing ski masks. All about average height, average build, give or take, except for one who was kind of stumpy, built like a fireplug or a fire hydrant, one of those things. Solid. And very hairy.’
‘Hairy?’
‘Like an animal. He had tufts of it sticking out from under the neck of his ski mask, and more at the wrists.’
Small and hairy, like an animal. Ben made a mental note of it. Distinguishing features were a good thing to know about.
Brooke said, ‘And another of them was much bigger than the rest.’
‘How much bigger?’
‘A lot. Really big. Probably a foot taller than you. More, even.’
‘Come on. Seriously?’ Ben was a shade under six feet, not the tallest man in the world by any means, but there weren’t many men who towered over him by that kind of margin.
‘Seriously. And built super-wide, too. A real hulk. Probably pumped full of steroids.’
Ben made a mental note of that, too. A guy that large would be easy to spot. Maybe not so easy to neutralise, if it came to it. But he could worry about that if and when the situation arose. He said, ‘Okay. Go on.’
‘They were on us in seconds. Of course, I had no idea what was happening. I thought they were coming for both of us. Muggers, or a rape gang. Forty percent of all the rapes in India happen in Delhi. They beat up the men, hold them down at knifepoint and make them watch as they line up to go to work on the women.’ Brooke shuddered. ‘But then they made straight for Amal, and I realised that wasn’t what they wanted. He was just standing there, like paralysed. I suppose I was too. Two of them grabbed his arms and started dragging him towards the van. He turned to look at me. He was so terrified. He yelled at me to run, get away.’
Ben knew that Brooke wouldn’t have run, in that situation. She was one of the toughest, bravest women he’d ever met. In unarmed combat training sessions at Le Val she’d been able to hold her own against much stronger and heavier male sparring partners.
She went on, ‘Amal’s a gentle soul. He’s never so much as thrown a punch in his life. But I wasn’t about to stand there and let him be snatched off the street like that. I rushed in and collared one of the bastards.’
‘The stumpy, hairy one or the massive one?’
‘Neither,’ she said. ‘This one was about medium height, medium build. I punched him in the mouth, and when he went down I yanked his mask off.’
‘You saw his face?’
‘I can still see it now,’ she replied. ‘He’s an Indian, as you might expect given that we’re in India. Swarthy complexion, dark hair, mid-thirties. He was sat there dumped on the ground looking up at me with these big bulging eyes full of hate. He has a missing front tooth.’
Ben made another mental note. Bulging eyes, missing tooth. ‘Was it already missing, or did you knock it out when you hit him?’
‘It was lying on the pavement. I didn’t notice it until afterwards. And his mouth was bleeding. So I’d say it was me.’
Ben had to smile in satisfaction at the visual image. He added bruised lip to his mental note. That was, assuming he caught up with the kidnappers before the bruising had time to go down. Which he had every intention of doing.
‘I picked up the tooth and gave it to the police,’ Brooke said. ‘They’ve still got it, far as I know. I was hoping it’d help to find the guy. Can they DNA teeth?’
Ben nodded. ‘Tooth enamel’s one of the best sources for DNA samples. But the police in India are known for being way behind on the technology. They don’t have any kind of database to match samples with. So I’d be surprised if they turn up anything there, but it was good thinking on your part.’
She gave a sour grunt. ‘Fabulous.’
‘What happened next?’
Brooke continued the account, glancing here and there as though she was reliving the action all over again. ‘Meanwhile the rest of them were dragging Amal closer to the van, right there. He was struggling, but couldn’t do a thing. I was screaming at the top of my voice. I could see a few people hanging around, but nobody came to help. I went to grab another of the bastards and pull him off Amal. Then the big hulk I told you about, he lunged towards me and caught me by the arm. Very, very quick for a guy his size. His hand was like a pincer. I tried to put him in a wrist lock, the way you showed me once. Nambudo?’
‘Aikido.’
‘But he was too strong. He held onto me like he was going to stuff me into the van, too. For a second I was certain they were going to take both of us.’
‘You got away?’
‘No, they let me go. One seemed