Page 43 of Savage Protector
Jack shakes his head. “We generally prefer the police to give Caraksay a wide berth. We find that suits everyone.”
“But, if you want to stay out of it, I could tell them I have no idea who rescued me or where they lived.”
“It’s obvious the video was taken from somewhere. Any IT boffin could work out where.”
Leila falls silent, then, “This is about protecting Zayn, isn’t it? He injured my uncle, put him in a wheelchair.”
“That, too, though there’s no evidence linking any of us to that unfortunate incident.”
“But there must be. My uncle…”
Jack shakes his head. “No, there isn’t. You see, Ms Mansour, we are very, very good at what we do. Your uncle deserved what happened to him, leave it at that. So, no police. You can rely on us to make sure your cousins don’t bother you again, and in the meantime, you’ll remain here. Is that all?”
He waits. Even Faith is silent suddenly. “Well? Are we clear?”
Leila manages a brief but obviously reluctant nod. “Very well. It seems I have no choice.”
Jack’s lip quirks in the most fleeting of smiles. “So, we’re done here. Zee?”
“With you in a sec.” I give Leila a wink and what I hope is an encouraging smile. “You’ll be okay with Ruth. I’ll see you later.”
“But—”
“Come on, we’ll start downstairs. You need to know where the kitchen is, and the spa.” Ruth links arms with Leila and tugs her towards the house. “I hear you’re a medical student. Sounds like hard work…”
“So, these two jokers?”Upstairs in his office, Jack lifts Faith onto his lap and offers her half a chocolate finger biscuit from the stash he keeps in the drawer of his desk for just such occasions. “What are your thoughts?”
“They were warned,” I reply. “I told Abdul there would be no more chances.”
“Fair enough. It’s obvious they’re slow learners, so no more warnings. What do you know about them? Their habits? Their movements?”
“Fuck all. Yet. I was thinking I’d get Frankie on it.”
“He’s back at uni right now, but Casey is at Caraksay.”
“Even better. I’ll give her a ring.” What Casey Savage doesn’t know about online surveillance would fit on the back of a stamp and still leave space forayat al-kursiand a dozen more passages from the Quran.
“Do that. Come up with a plan, then come back and tell me what you intend to do. If you need backup…”
“Understood. Thanks, boss.” I leave him to negotiate with a determined two-year-old about the appropriate number of chocolate fingers to consume at one sitting when she hasn’t had her tea yet. Rather him than me.
Leila
Caernsbro Ghyll is huge.And imposing. My new friend, Ruth, provides a potted history as we wander around.
“The first and second floors are converted into apartments. There are twelve altogether, and six guest rooms.”
“I see. So, a lot of people live here?”
“About thirty, including partners and children. The kitchen is this way.”
We find ourselves in what must be the largest kitchen I’ve ever seen. Three of those classy pot sinks line one wall, and as well as what I’m told is an Aga on the wall opposite, there are three microwaves in a row on one of the granite worktops.
“Jenna, that’s Tony’s wife, occasionally cooks for everyone, but mostly we just look after ourselves. The larder is through there.” She indicates a door in a corner. “Just help yourself and make a note of what you had. We send in a grocery order every two weeks and Tesco delivers. Same with the fridge and freezers. They’re through there, in the utility.”
She leads me over to another door and opens it to reveal the customary three washing machines and a massive dryer, along with a walk-in fridge and massive chest freezer.
“Most of the men have their own microwave and kettle in their apartments, probably small fridges, too. But generally, we all come down here. It’s more sociable, but it does get busy, especially with kids all over the place.”
