parents, you won't be able to tell the police what I look like.' Canning crouched down so that his head was on a level with hers. 'Look, I'm sorry if I scared you. But you have to do as we say, okay? You have to stay down here for a few days, then you can go home.'
'You promise?'
Canning made the sign of the cross on his chest. 'Swear to die.'
Andy Hayes put down the phone. 'They'll hold the ticket for me at the airport,' she said.
Martin nodded. 'I'll drive you.'
'You can't,' she said. 'You have to carry on as normal, that's what the letter said. You have to go to work.' She looked at her watch.
'I think I should stay by the phone. They might call.'
Andy shook her head fiercely. 'They said you had to carry out your normal routine. That means going to work, Martin.
We mustn't do anything that makes them think we're not cooperating.'
Martin shrugged. 'I guess so.'
Andy's face hardened. 'No, there's no I-guess-so about this. I want you to promise me that you won't call the police.'
'Oh, come on, do you think I'd do anything that would put Katie in danger?'
'Promise me, Martin. Promise me that you won't do anything out of the ordinary.'
Martin took her in his arms and kissed her hair. 'I promise.'
She hugged him tightly. 'I'll call you from London. They didn't say that I couldn't do that.'
Martin stroked the back of her neck. 'It's going to be all right, Andy. I promise.'
McEvoy put on his ski mask and picked up the tray. On it was a paper plate of spaghetti hoops, a slice of bread, and a plastic fork.
'I'll take it,' said Canning. He was sitting at the table working on the crossword in the Irish Times. Like McEvoy he'd changed out of his track suit and was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.
'That's all right, Mick. I'll handle it. Where are the scissors?'
Canning gestured with his chin. 'By the sink. You should give her some milk.'
'Milk?'
'To drink. She'll need something to drink.'
McEvoy put the tray down. He picked up the scissors and slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans.
'You haven't got kids, have you, George?' said Canning,
looking up from his crossword.
'Not that I know of,' said McEvoy. 'Your point being?'
He chuckled, went over to the fridge, opened it and took out a carton of milk. He poured some into a plastic cup and then put the carton back in the fridge. 'Anything else I should take her ladyship?' he asked.
Canning ignored him and concentrated on the crossword.
McEvoy went over to the door that led to the basement and juggled the tray as he slipped the bolts. He eased the door open with his foot and peered down the stairs. Katie was sitting on the camp bed, her Garfield in her lap. She looked up and watched him walk down the stairs. He put the tray on the bed next to her and she looked at it disdainfully. 'Spaghetti hoops?'
'Leave it if you don't want it,' said McEvoy curtly.
'What else is there to eat?'
'Nothing. It's spaghetti hoops or nothing.'
Katie sniffed and rested her head on top of Garfield,
McEvoy took the scissors from his back pocket. Katie looked at him fearfully.
'Please don't,' said Katie, clasping Garfield tightly.
'It won't hurt if you don't move,' said McEvoy.
Andy opened the suitcase and stared at its interior. What was she supposed to pack? She didn't even know how long she was going to be away. She closed the suitcase again and went over to the wardrobe. The front was mirrored and she stared at her reflection. Fly to London and wait, the letter said. Wait for further instructions. Did that mean they would send her somewhere else? Or would she collect Katie in London?
Should she pack for Katie, too? She opened the wardrobe and ran a hand along the dresses and jackets hanging there.
Maybe she shouldn't take anything with her. If anyone saw her leaving the house with a suitcase, they'd wonder where she was going. What would she say? That she was going away for a holiday? On her own? What if she met anyone she knew at the airport?
She heard Martin