Chapter 5

 

Things didn’t go as planned. While Patricia was eating, a porter delivered a large manila envelope. An envelope addressed to Patricia Matthews—the woman who had been out of jail for less than two hours. The woman whom no one should have known was staying in the hotel.

“The guy doesn’t know who it’s from,” Joe told them once the door was closed. “He says it was left at reception and they were told it was urgent.”

Everyone looked at Patricia. She pushed her plate away, even though it was still half full.

“Do you know anything about this?” Joe said.

“Yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “I was passed a message after Alice went missing. It told me to get out of jail as fast as possible and wait to be contacted. I assumed it was about Alice.” She suddenly looked closer to her age. “I thought the same as Julia, that someone was holding Alice for ransom. It’s a South American thing, isn’t it? Hold wealthy tourists for ransom.”

“I think that’s Colombia, gran.” Julia leaned over to pat her gran’s hand.

“Anyway”—Patricia pointed at the envelope in Joe’s hand—“I think that’s them contacting me. I really hope they haven’t sent me Alice’s ear.”

“Gran, don’t say things like that. That sort of thing only happens in movies.”

Joe didn’t bother shattering her delusions. Kidnappers cut off ears and a whole lot more besides. And all of it was stuff Julia was better off not knowing.

“Only one way to find out what’s in it.” Joe ripped open the envelope.

“Joe!” Julia rushed to his side. “There could have been something dangerous in there. Like a letter bomb or something. You should have been more careful.”

Joe was insanely pleased that she was worried about his safety. It showed progress. And considering she’d barely looked at him since she’d gotten up that morning, he could do with some progress. He’d been too hasty pushing her the night before, but what were his options? If he let things progress at Julia’s pace, they might be dead before they ever found out if this thing between them was real. Baby steps, he told himself. He still had to take baby steps.

Baby steps sucked.

He upended the envelope over the table, and a cheap prepaid cell phone dropped out.

“Guess you’re about to get a call, Patricia.” Joe shared a worried look with Ed. They had no time to set up a call trace, or even to check out the phone.

The phone buzzed, making everyone in the room jump. Patricia shot to her feet as though ready to run and answer it. Joe held up a hand to stop her.

“It’s a text.” He hit the button and read the message. “It’s an IP address.”

“What does that mean?” Patricia said.

“It’s an internet destination. They want you to go there.” Julia pulled out her iPad, then rooted around in her messenger bag. She came out with a cable. “I’ll connect the iPad to the TV. That way we can all watch what Gran sees when she goes online. We could crowd around the screen on my tablet, but it’s probably not a good idea to let everyone know we’re with her—just in case they want her to enable the camera. Plus, the screen is a little small.”

“If this is a two-way connection,” Joe said, “it’s best if the other end only see Patricia.”

Julia rushed over to the large TV and connected it to her iPad. Ed was shaking his head at the mystery that was Julia, while Patricia looked on proudly.

“We’ll be with you every step of the way,” Joe told Patricia. “If they expect you to communicate with them, don’t agree to anything without consulting me first. I want to keep you safe, and I need your help to do that.”

Patricia nodded as Julia sat beside her at the small dining table. The women put their heads together, studying the screen while Julia typed in the IP address. A few seconds passed before a live feed of a nondescript room appeared on the screen. There was the sound of a scuffle, and a woman was pushed into the room.

“Alice!” Patricia gasped.

Unlike Patricia, Alice looked like someone’s gran. She wore beige cotton pants and a blue button-down shirt. Her feet were clad in loafers and her grey hair was cut short, in a feathered cap over her head. She looked rumpled and tired. She stared at the screen a little vaguely, and Joe wondered if she’d been drugged.

“Is it on?” she said, and Patricia made a little mewling sound.

Alice looked around, smiled vaguely at someone off camera and then waved. “Is it on? Am I live? Hello? Is anybody out there?”

“Oh no,” Julia and Patricia said at the same time.

“What?” Joe snapped.

Julia looked resigned. “I’m sorry,” she said. “My whole family are like this, even the honorary members.”

“Watch your mouth,” Patricia said. “I’m nothing like this.”

“Helloooo,” Alice sang. “Hellooooo.”

“I’ve told her not to do this,” Patricia said to Julia. “Haven’t I told her?”

“Do what?” Joe almost shouted.

“She’s pretending to have dementia.” Julia put her palm to her brow, in a gesture that screamed long-suffering. “She thinks it makes her seem like a harmless little old lady. The problem is, Alice is the world’s worst actress.”

“I’ve told her a million times that she needs to leave acting to the professionals. There’s a reason the woman’s career was behind the camera.”

“Okey-dokey.” Alice’s face filled the screen, and she smiled maniacally. “The nice man told me that the green light means I’m on TV.” She waved again. “Patricia, darling, I hope you’re watching. Marcus, Marcus, love, are you there? I told you I’d make a great actress, and now I have my own show.” She looked off camera. “I told Marcus all about my acting plans. He’s such a good listener and always full of ideas to help my career. Just wait until he hears that I’m on live TV. With my own show! What’s it called again?”

Julia and Patricia shared a look of bewilderment, before focusing their attention back on the screen.

There were mumbled voices, and Alice smiled back at the camera. “It’s called the Alice Show. Isn’t that perfect?” She clapped her hands in delight. “Although I shall have to talk to my agent about getting a better set. This one is rather basic. And don’t even get me started on the food.” She spoke off camera again. “We need a new food truck.” She looked back into the lens. “Jorge said if I do a good job I’ll get ice cream.” She beamed, looking a little demented.

Patricia threw her hands up and glared at the iPad. “Can I talk to her through this thing? I need to tell her that nobody’s buying her act. A two-year-old could do a better job. Hell, Liz Hurley could do a better job, and her acting is no better than a puppet show. Wooden. Totally wooden.” She poked Julia’s shoulder. “Where’s the mic button?”

“You can’t talk to her. It’s a one-way feed.”

“This is embarrassing,” Patricia said as she watched Alice wax lyrical about her favourite ice cream. “People with dementia don’t behave like that. She should be nominated for a Razzie Award.”

“Patricia!” Joe barked. “Quiet!”

“The nice producer says I have to tell you about mummy.” Alice frowned with exaggerated confusion. “Do you mean my mummy? I think she’s dead.”

Patricia groaned loudly, and Joe shot her another glare. “I will gag you.”

She made a zipping motion over her lips.

“Jorge says he wants his mummy back.” Alice made a sad face that reminded Joe of a mime performance. “That’s heart-breaking; he misses his mummy. What did you say, Jorge? I couldn’t hear you because I’m talking to Patricia.”

There was silence while Alice focused on her kidnapper.

She nodded. “Jorge says you have to bring his mummy to him or I won’t get to come home.” She looked slightly panicked, but smiled widely. “Don’t worry about that. I like it here. I’m going to be a star! Do you hear me, Marcus? This is where I told you I’d end up. I’m going to be a star!” She waved her hands above her head, and the feed cut out.

The screen went blank and there was silence. Until the cell phone rang.

Patricia shot to her feet, her eyes went straight to Joe. “What do I say?”

“Tell them the truth. Tell them you don’t have the mummy and you need time to get it.”

“I don’t even know where it is! It was gone by the time we broke into the house.” Her voice rose with the beginnings of hysteria.

“Tell them that. Ask for more time.” Joe lifted the phone and walked to Patricia. “It’s important that you get more time. Make them believe you can find the mummy. Got it?”

“Got it.” She didn’t look like she did, but Joe had no other option than to hand over the ringing phone.

“Hello?” Patricia said in a tremulous voice.

She listened while everyone in the room leaned in towards her.

“I don’t have it. Someone had already taken it by the time we got there.” As she listened, Patricia paled. “No! No. I can find it. I just need some time. I’m sure I can find it.” She stared into space, agony on her face. “I n-need more time than that.”

The caller said something else, and then Patricia’s hand fell to her side, still clutching the phone. “He says we have three days. If he doesn’t have the mummy by Friday, Alice will lose her usefulness.”

A grim silence enveloped the room.

“I really need wine.” Patricia headed for the minibar, placing the phone carefully on the table when she passed. It was her only lifeline to Alice.

Joe looked at Julia, whose face was a mask of fear and worry. “Julia, if they plan to keep using the phone, maybe Elle can get something from it that will help us?”

“I’ll email the details to her now.” Julia looked less terrified now that she had a task to keep her mind occupied.

“In the meantime, we need a starting place. We need to know everything you know about this mummy, Patricia. Including why these guys are so hot to trade your friend for a corpse that wouldn’t sell for as much as a cheap used car. I get the feeling there’s something about this particular mummy that isn’t showing up in our research on it. Something you obviously know.”

Patricia ducked her head as her cheeks turned pink. Oh yeah, she knew exactly what was going on, and it was time she shared. If there was one thing Joe hated, it was being kept in the dark. Especially when there were lives on the line.

“And Gran?” Julia looked up from her tablet. “Who is Marcus and why was Alice talking about him?”

Joe’s eyes snapped to Julia. “I thought that was her husband.”

“No.” Patricia sighed. “Her husband was called Jonathan, and he was a film director who is probably turning in his grave at his widow’s terrible performance. Marcus is something else entirely. I think mentioning him might be Alice’s idea of talking in code. I’m fairly certain she was trying to give me a message.”

“What message?” Julia stopped emailing Elle.

“That Marcus is up to his neck in this mess. After Alice’s over-the-top declarations of love for Marcus, I get the horrible feeling that the woman I call my lifelong best friend may have had sex with my ex-lover. Honestly, I told her the man was rubbish in bed. What was she thinking?”

“Gran!” Both of Julia’s hands shot up to cover her open mouth.

Patricia rolled her eyes. “We’re old. Not dead.”

“But the same man?”

“Not at the same time! Who knows what the crazy woman meant. It could all be part of her daft act.”

Julia clapped her hands over her ears. “I didn’t hear that. I can’t hear you talk about your boyfriends. It didn’t happen.”

Patricia’s eye roll was much more dramatic than anything Alice had managed during her broadcast. “You and I are going to have a talk, missy.” She pointed at Julia. “A woman doesn’t stop having needs just because she ages. And Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend. I’m in my sixties. I don’t have boyfriends. I have lovers. Your feminist education is sorely lacking.”

“This isn’t about being a feminist.” Julia’s voice rose, and Joe realised she wasn’t shy when it came to family. It gave him hope that, one day, she’d feel comfortable enough to shout at him too. “It’s about being a granddaughter,” Julia shouted.

“Enough!” Joe held up his hands for silence and hid his shock when he got it. “Your sex life isn’t interesting to anybody but you,” he told the pouting Patricia. “What we need to talk about is this guy Marcus and why everybody is so damned interested in a worthless mummy.”

“I’ll tell you everything. But first I need a drink.” Patricia looked over her shoulder at them. “I suggest you get one too.”