Chasing Innocence (38 page)

When Brian eventually sat up Baldur returned. ‘That was from my brother, you will spend time with him soon. Although of course you must know your friend has already met with a very painful death. A shame really, I cannot see he was here for any reason other than chance. Although a noble effort on your part to get him to safety.’

He had no idea what had happened to Adam but thought the boast unlikely, not without some morale-sapping memento on show. Either way there was little he could do about it now. ‘Are we moving on to bedtime stories soon? Your TV accent is really making me sleepy.’

Baldur wordlessly propped the wood against the wall and scooted Brian’s chair around 180 degrees, to face a gnarled old workbench. To one side was Brian’s kit bag and laid across the surface were the tools he had packed into the bag.

‘Did you think you would be fighting an army, Brian? We are spoilt for choice here. Would you like me to cut you with this knife or yours, or maybe I should hit you with these on my hand.’ Baldur ran his fingers over a set of worn knuckle dusters, the knuckles filed to points. ‘Or this little bat here. Or this rubber baton, maybe this chain. These sharp things you have welded into it, they are razor blades?’

‘Wilkinson, they stay sharp longer,’ answered Brian.

‘But whatever for?’

‘You wouldn’t understand, a nonce like you, only brave with children and tied up people.’

Baldur smiled at him. ‘Humour me.

So Brian did. ‘You run out of bullets, the guys you’re shooting don’t wait for you to get more. So you improvise.’ He let his eyes fall on the hilt of his knife on the bench. ‘How about you cut these plastic ties. Then we can get to seeing whose side God is on.’

This earned him a jolly laugh. ‘Very good Brian. I’m obviously in far better shape than you, younger, and I do not drink. I have never smoked. It would be a poor match and besides, why trouble myself when you’re quite obviously going nowhere.’

Baldur’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He walked back into the other room and talked in hushed tones that became urgent before returning. He looked at his watch and moved Brian’s chair back around.

‘I think we shall have some fun with your tools when I get back, but I have to see a man about a woman now. A busy night indeed!’

He retrieved the length of wood propped against the wall and turned to Brian.

‘My purpose, Brian, is to bring people before God and wash away the undeserving. I think you count as the latter. You now have time to think about your little girl and what will happen to her in the next months and years. That poor little body, passed from pillar to post, all those things that will be asked of her. All those tears and years wondering why her father betrayed her.’

Baldur weighed the wood in his hands. ‘And you incapable of doing anything for your child but die here.’

Brian watched Baldur’s arms swing around and the wood arc towards him, at the last second turning from the blow. It caught him across the face, rocking his head against the opposite shoulder, something breaking and dislodging inside his mouth.

Baldur threw the length of wood onto the floor and walked away. Brian used his tongue to search the inside of his mouth, moving his head carefully from side to side, spitting blood and broken teeth.

SEVENTY-TWO

It was ten when the taxi pulled away, leaving Adam standing on the pavement next to a deserted playground. He looked from the playground to the square of grass and to the shops. A brightly lit takeaway glowed in the darkness. It looked familiar, reminding him of where Sarah had grown up. He walked across the grass and directly into Eve Hill Way.

The house owned by Ragnorline looked empty. All the lights were off, no car on the driveway, a garage with an alley at the side. He walked across the road and down an alley diagonally opposite, watching the house while leaning against the wall in shadow. He hesitated, knowing what he had to do but trying to talk himself out of it.
Don’t think about it!
It was easier said than done. He took the battery from his phone, lest some random alarm shrill to life when he least needed it. Then with his heart beating fitfully he stepped from the shadows, walking purposefully across the street and down the alley beside the house.

The garage tapered on the left and became a fence and then a tall gate, an identical gate opposite it. He peered over the top and was rewarded with brilliant white light that he immediately stepped back from, turning to the gate he was interested in. He grasped the handle and pushed. It stuck. He put his shoulder against the gate and got ready to push and lift.

‘What’re you doing?’

The voice startled him, he jumped so hard a scream almost made it from his throat to his mouth.

‘Christ!’ he said, turning to see a girl. She was about twelve, slight in jeans and a short jacket, a fur lined hood pushed back from long dark hair. She had a pretty face. ‘You made me jump!’ was all he could think to say.

She studied him, her eyes appraising, her face earnest. She repeated the question, her tone firmer. ‘What are you doing?’

He stammered on an answer. ‘None of your business.’

‘It is my business and I know what you’re looking for.’

With a sudden sense of horror he thought she was about to proposition him, but realised she was working at an entirely different level. He turned to look at her properly. ‘Do you, what would that be?’

She answered confidently, ‘You’re looking for her. You’re just the sort of guy she’d be with. Although I thought you’d be a little, a bit more polished.’

Adam’s heart started beating afresh. ‘Her, who is her?’

‘The woman on TV, I saw her while making my tea. Knew straight away who she was. She was here the other day checking them houses.’ Her head indicated
them houses
were somewhere behind her. ‘Soon as I saw you from my bedroom I knew who you was.’

He breathed deep several times, trying to calm himself. Sarah had been here. ‘And I am?’

‘Her bloke, like I said.’ She nodded at the gate. ‘But you won’t find her in there, that’s Simon’s place. He’s cool.’ She paused as if realising something, ‘Unless, you know…’ She shifted her weight from foot to foot. ‘Unless she wants to be there.’

He shook his head. ‘This Simon, you know him?’

‘Of course, Simon’s a legend, everyone knows Simon. That’s how I know.’

‘Know what?’

‘That your misses ain’t in there less she wants to be. Wouldn’t blame her if she was. Anyway, you’re too late. He left already.’ For a flicker in the low light he saw sadness in her face.

‘When?’

‘About an hour ago, I saw the car. Had his suitcases although I knew already he was going. Only it was meant to be Wednesday, so I guess there’s something to do with the boat.’

‘The boat?’ Adam was still busy trying to process this new information, the conversation spinning way beyond his ability to put it all into context.

‘He sails boats for rich people. If he was going Wednesday and he’s gone today, it must be something with the boat.’ She looked at Adam as children do when they know something the adult does not.

And he sensed curiosity alone had not brought the girl there, she was protective of Simon. He looked at the closed gate. There was no way he was leaving without checking the house.

‘You didn’t see the girl then?’

‘What girl?’

‘The girl who was on the TV, at the same time as my wife.’

She shrugged. ‘Don’t know anything about no girl. Just that I’d seen the woman. Who’s the girl?’

‘It doesn’t matter if you haven’t seen her.’ He let his eyes settle on the gate and then back to the girl. ‘I know she’s here so you obviously don’t know Simon that well.’ He made ready to walk past her, not really sure what he was doing.

‘What do you mean, I know Simon better than anyone!’

‘You don’t or you’d know my wife was here.’

‘But she isn’t.’

‘Yes she is. Why else would I be here, it just goes to show.’

Her mouth worked and her eyes shifted between hurt and fierce. ‘She isn’t and I can prove it.’

He stopped. ‘How?’

‘I can get in, it’s easy.’

A thin sliver of dark moved inside him and a little guilt. ‘Don’t believe you. You’re just saying that because you want me to think he’s your friend.’

Her young face moved in on itself indignantly. ‘Simon’s cool, we’re good mates, better than anyone around here.’ She looked genuinely hurt. ‘He’s my friend. Get out of my way.’

She brushed passed him to the gate, pushing and lifting, stepping into the garden and disappearing inside. He heard her voice, calling ‘Come on!’

He stepped through and followed her. ‘But you can’t look about too much. Just to prove your misses ain’t here and that’s it.’

He followed and she turned impatiently. ‘You got that?’

‘Yes, of course. Just a quick look around and then I’ll know you’re right.’ He looked at the back of the house. He had no idea how she was going to get in. It had modern patio doors and double glazing at every window. He doubted Simon kept keys under pot plants.

‘Wait here,’ the girl directed. She put one foot on a shallow ledge protruding from a small greenhouse. She pushed up and stepped quickly onto the sill of the garage window, both hands on the edge of the garage roof, lifting herself and turning to sit as if she had just pulled herself from a swimming pool. She shuffled across to where the garage and house met, her head level with the bottom of the bathroom window. She leaned over and banged the frame with a fist. She studied it and then banged again. Nothing. She banged again. Small sounds in the night.

It suddenly dawned on Adam she might actually be knocking for someone to open it. He took a half step back, ready to run, but this time whatever she was looking for happened. She pulled at the bottom edge of the window, opening it to an angle. Standing she used a hand on the gutter and stepped over onto the bathroom sill then disappeared inside. He doubted a monkey could have made it look any easier.

Moments later the curtains covering the patio doors parted and she reached up, retrieving keys that refracted light, and then unlocked the doors. She pushed one door open and waved him in. He took eleven steps and found himself standing in Simon’s dining room. She closed the door and looked at him jubilantly. ‘See, I told you it was easy.’

‘That looked dangerous, why don’t you just knock?’

Confusion set in her eyes. ‘He’s not here, what’d be the point?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I meant why do you have to do that at all if he’s here? Why don’t you just knock? He could open the door. It would be a lot easier.’

She looked at him a little uncertain, as if she was about to tell him something she should not, without knowing why. She walked into the kitchen and he followed.

‘He says it wouldn’t be right if I knocked and he let me in. He says if I want to climb in it’s up to me, my choice. It doesn’t work all the time. Sometimes he locks it and I can’t get in. That’s when he has to study. I understand.’

An unease started to grow at the pit of his stomach. ‘When was the last time you did that?’

‘Last Thursday.’ The girl leaned back against the kitchen counter, folding her arms across the jacket. ‘I like to come. I like to be with him, he’s a legend. He makes me feel…’ She faltered. ‘I don’t do nothing I don’t want to. He makes me feel nice, he’s interested in me. And he helps with my homework. And he’s big, you should see his muscles,’ she said with an awe only a child could muster.

In the low light now she looked even younger. Or was it his own guilt playing tricks on his eyes. He looked around. ‘Small kitchen?’

She looked as well. ‘I guess so.’ She drifted into the dining room. ‘Not sure what you’re expecting to find. It’s empty like I said.’ She moved into the living room and he followed. ‘Through there is the garage.’ She nodded towards the hallway. ‘And then upstairs there’s the bedrooms and his study. Where’d you want to look first?’

‘The garage?’ he answered.

She walked into the hallway, shuffling through the keys, flicking a switch and then unlocking the door. He followed her in.

It was practically empty. Probably the neatest garage he had ever been in. On the left there was a work bench and a wall full of tools on hooks. A large plastic mat lay beneath the window at the far end. Apart from a broom, a bucket and a stack of magazines that was it. Even the concrete floor looked like it had been scrubbed. He tried to take in the detail, trying to imagine Sarah here and getting a sense for her in the space. But he could not. He wandered to the end by the window.

The girl fidgeted impatiently. ‘Seen enough?’

He ignored her and reached down to the stack of magazines, yachting magazines. Which set his hands shaking as he took the one on top, last month’s. He flicked through the pages of glossy pictures, text and advertisements. There was nothing that jumped out, no folded pages of significant information, no handwritten notes. He dropped it back onto the pile. ‘What about upstairs?’

‘Go through then,’ she said tartly, now the lady of the manor. ‘Don’t turn on any lights,’ she added.

Upstairs was no different. Sparse rooms drained of colour by the night. ‘That’s his bedroom there.’ She flourished a hand. He looked inside, slightly more clutter but neatly stacked on shelves or on a simple dresser. The space was dotted with pictures of people and smiling faces. Simon liked the outdoors.

Adam moved along the landing to a spare bedroom, containing a wardrobe and a chair. The bed was made with hardly a crease to be seen. ‘That’s for guests.’ She said. ‘And his study is there.’ He peeked into the box room, taking a good look. More pictures of Simon on boats, some with Hakan and the two blond men, others with people Adam did not know.

‘Seen enough yet?’ her voice impatient.

‘No, I’m still looking, thank you.’ Her cheeks flushed and her hands alternated between playing with the keys and being thrust deep into her jacket pockets, impatient for him to go now the euphoria of showing off was over. Realising he had glimpsed something of her that nobody else had seen, which felt like her secret was about to be broken.