The Passenger Daniel Hurst (books for men to read .TXT) 📖

says, and I turn back to see him shrugging. ‘All I have to do is give the word and she will be dead within a minute.’

Several passengers hurry past me on their way home as I stand on the platform, trying to decide what to do. I thought I had a chance to stop this, but now I see that I don’t. He is right. Even if I do make it to the police officer and tell him what is happening, and even if they apprehend this man on the train, they will be too late to stop James at my flat. I might save my money, but I could lose Louise.

Then again, I could lose Louise if I give up the code and they discover what else is in my safe alongside that money.

With everybody here having disembarked, the train is preparing to leave again, and I see the conductor on the platform glance up and down the body of the vehicle before putting the whistle to his lips. As soon as he blows that, the doors will close and the train will leave this station. If that happens, the man will be gone, and I’ll be powerless to stop him or his partner harming my daughter then.

‘It’s now or never, Amanda,’ he says from the open doorway, the phone still pressed to his ear.

I take one last look down the platform at the police officer.

Then I get back on the train.

12

STRANGER

I walk behind Amanda as she makes her way back to our table, ignoring the puzzled looks from the passengers who have remained on this train. They are presumably wondering why we just made a mad rush for the exit only to be retaking our seats again, but I don’t care what they think. I’m just glad I stopped Amanda before she did anything stupid. While it would have been no trouble for me to call James and tell him to punish Louise for her mother’s mistake, I’d much rather we stick to the plan that ends up with me getting my share of the £20,000 in the flat in Brighton.

As we retake our seats and the train pulls away from the platform, we are back on track, literally.

‘Do you feel better for getting that out of your system?’ I ask Amanda as I check my watch for the time. That little charade only wasted a couple of minutes, but I’m growing impatient now, and I imagine James is too.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Amanda asks, sulking in her seat.

‘It’s not personal. Just bad luck, I guess.’

‘You don’t have to do it.’

‘I’m afraid we do. You see, we need the money.’

‘I need that money!’

‘But you need your daughter more.’

Amanda can’t really argue with that.

‘Look, if it’s any consolation, I’m very impressed that you were able to save up such a good sum of cash,’ I say. ‘And if you can do it once, I’m sure you can do it again.’

‘How? I don’t have a job after this week!’

‘Keep your voice down,’ I remind her as a couple of passengers look in our direction again.

I wonder if they think we are having some kind of lovers’ tiff. If only they really knew what was happening. It would certainly give them something to talk about in the office tomorrow.

I look back at Amanda to see her staring despondently out of the window, and it is a little difficult not to feel some sympathy for her. But sympathy never got anybody paid.

‘Look, let me make this as clear as I can for you,’ I say as I lean forward in my seat and rest my arms on the table between us. ‘You will give me that code to your safe, or your daughter will die. And we’re not messing about. Either you pay or your daughter will. It’s as simple as that.’

I sit back in my seat when I’ve made my point, and I expect that to be the end of it. But Amanda still seems reluctant.

‘How did you do all this?’

‘All of what?’

‘This. How did you know where I’d be? Which train I get? Which table I would sit at?’

I smile because that’s easy to answer.

‘Like most people, Amanda, you are a creature of habit. As soon as James told me about the money in your flat, I began to follow you. You wouldn’t have noticed me, but I have been watching you for several days. I watched you leave your flat in Brighton and catch the 07:40 service into London every weekday morning. I watched you walk to your office. I’ve watched you take your lunch break. And I’ve watched you go home again on the 17:35.’

Amanda stares at me in disbelief.

‘I followed you everywhere you went. The more I followed you, the more I noticed that you didn’t deviate from your routine once. Same trains. Same walk to the office. Even the same pricey salad bar for your lunch, which I was surprised about because I thought you were trying to save money, but I guess you have to allow yourself little luxuries somewhere.’

‘I don’t believe this.’

‘You’d better believe it,’ I say, nodding my head. ‘The sad thing is that you made this so easy. By being so predictable, you removed all risk for me. Take this table, for example. I’ve watched you sit here every night on your way home. Not the table behind. Not the table in front. This table. You enter the carriage by the same doors, and you sit in the same seat. So much routine. No wonder you are desperate to escape this life. I’d go crazy too if this were my existence.’

From the look on her face, I’m not sure whether Amanda wants to scream in frustration or burst into tears, but now she knows. That daily grind she hates so much has ended up being one of the things that has led to her downfall.

‘And Louise?’ she asks me.

‘We know she is at home all day, so