Free Sky Lights by Barclay Baker Page A

swaying conifers and stopped in front of the garage. He checked the time on the dashboard - 6:40, switched off the engine and got out. Wendy should’ve been back by now. He was sorry she had missed his big day, but it was not his fault. He made his way to the front door. He wasn’t worried…yet. Wendy had any number of friends she might have gone home with. It was what young girls did, although, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why they would want to spend more time with each other when they had been at school in the same class all day.
    ‘Oh Dad, you just don’t understand.’ Wendy would say.
    Yet it was not like her to go off without letting him know where she was. His own life might be a bit chaotic, but Wendy was not like him. She was thoughtful, disciplined and a credit to her mother. He thought again of his decision to take more pride in his appearance and to pay more attention to his daughter. He had been consumed by his work in the run up to the press conference, but now he would do something about it. Starting tonight.
    As he turned the key in the lock he was struck by the silence in the house. No music blaring. No TV. Before he even put on the light, he saw the large sheet of yellowed paper on the hall carpet. He read the message written in thick black felt tip pen. It chilled him to the bone.
    Professor Dante
    Your daughter is in our custody, and will remain so until you have given us what we want. Do not contact the police if you want to see her alive again. Meet us at your laboratory at 8 o’clock tonight.
    Remember no police.
    His heart sank. He was shocked at the threats in the note. He made his way to the back of the house, to the dining room, which doubled as an office. His hand hovered over the phone. Should he call the police? What if the threats were serious? Could he take a chance? Was he gambling with Wendy’s life?
    He put down his briefcase and switched on the desk lamp. He re-read the note and dropped it on to the table. He emptied his brief case, piling papers, pens and diaries next to it. He snatched up his mobile phone and speed dialled Wendy’s number. No answer. Hadn’t Maggie said the same? How many hours ago was that? Had Wendy been missing all that time?
    There was no doubt in his mind. No point trying to reach her friends. She wouldn’t be there. No sense in worrying them. Someone had kidnapped Wendy and they wanted something from him. It wasn’t money. They hadn’t asked for a ransom to be paid. It had to be something to do with his work at Roslyn. It didn’t take much brain power to work that out. Was it industrial spies forcing him to meet back at the institute? Were they planning to steal his ideas? News agency people were given advance notice of forthcoming announcements. He wondered who else had known about his statement. James Croll’s family certainly knew.
    The professor made up his mind. Wendy’s life was in danger. He would do whatever they asked. He only hoped that he could succeed. He stuffed some of his most recent research papers back into the brief case. He switched off the light, grabbed his car keys and let himself out of the patio doors. He ran to his car leaving the doors swinging open. His house was of no importance compared to the threat to Wendy.
    Throwing the brief case into the car, he started the engine. The gravel spurted up as the car turned in the driveway, wheels spinning. He drove at speed out into the street. Time was short. He had to reach Roslyn by 8 o’clock. His instinct was to drive increasingly faster but he forced himself to stick to thirty miles an hour. It wouldn’t help Wendy if he was arrested for breaking the speed limit. In good time, he reached the car park of the Roslyn Institute, switched off the lights and waited to see what would happen next.
    A dark van glided into the space next to him. His heart was thumping. He heard the door slide open and saw two men jump out and approach his car. The taller figure was over