Darkness Falls (13 page)

Oh God, not again
, she thought.
Don’t let it be more bad news
. She ran across the square and burst through the front door to find DI Reece sitting in the front room, perched awkwardly on the edge of his chair, a cup and saucer held in both hands. The way Silvia was glaring at him, April knew Reece hadn’t had a comfortable wait.

‘What’s up?’ said April eagerly. ‘Is there news about Dad’s case?’

‘No,’ said Silvia with undisguised anger. ‘We’ve just been discussing the Inspector’s so-called detective work. It seems he has run out of ideas.’

‘Now that’s not what I said, Mrs Dunne,’ said Reece. ‘I said our current leads have failed to return the results we would have liked. That doesn’t mean we have given up on the case by any means …’

Silvia narrowed her eyes. ‘It seems to me, Inspector …’ she began, but April cut her off.

‘What is it, Mr Reece? Have you found Marcus?’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ said DI Reece, glancing nervously at April’s mother, clearly expecting another outburst.

‘Don’t give him a hard time, Mum,’ said April. ‘He’s doing his best.’

‘Well his best isn’t good enough! My husband has been killed and my daughter attacked, forgive me if I expect the police to come up with a little more than “we don’t know”.’

‘I can understand your frustrations, Mrs Dunne …’

‘Can you? Can you really? Have you ever had to bury a loved one?’

Reece paused, looking at her.

‘Yes, I have.’

‘Well, then I’m sure you appreciate my need to find answers. Like: what exactly are the police doing to prevent any further attacks on this family?’

‘The house is still being watched, of course.’

‘That silly little police car parked in the square? You really think that’s going to stop this maniac?’

‘Mum! Please!’

‘Well excuse me for feeling protective of my only daughter …’

‘Please! At least until the inspector has told me why he’s here.’

‘Well actually it’s a missing persons case. I wouldn’t usually be given this, but considering the circumstances, it’s been brought to my attention.’

April looked from Reece to her mother.

‘Who’s missing?’

‘Your little friend Layla, darling,’ said Silvia. ‘She’s disappeared.’

Layla had disappeared without trace. She had left the party at Davina’s house and had not been seen since. It was as if the moment she stepped onto the street, she had been swallowed up by the city.

‘According to her mother, Layla went to the party promising to be home by ten,’ said DI Reece. ‘But she never made it. Layla’s seventeen and by all accounts is pretty self-sufficient. Usually we wait forty-eight hours before we raise the alarm, but given everything that’s been going on in the area, we’re taking this seriously.’

Reece explained that Davina had waved Layla off at about nine-thirty, just after April had left, and according to Davina she’d insisted on walking home. It was only a five-minute walk to her house, but when she hadn’t returned by eleven, her mother had called Davina, who had raised the alarm.

‘Why wait forty-eight hours, Inspector? These are children we’re talking about here. Anything could happen in that time,’ said April’s mother, still clearly spoiling for a fight.

Reece shrugged wearily. ‘It’s the twenty-first century, Mrs Dunne. In most of these cases, the missing person has gone to an all-night party without mentioning it, met up with a new boyfriend or is just sleeping off too much drink at a friend’s house. Kids these days get themselves into more trouble than they used to, but I’m afraid we find they’re no more likely to confide in their parents.’

April saw her mother bristle at the implication, but she knew the policeman was correct. April reckoned she had managed to get herself into more trouble than any teenager in history
and she still had no intention of telling her mother about it. She could hardly just drop it into conversation: ‘Mum, I’ve discovered a nest of bloodthirsty vampires at my school and I suspect they may be behind Dad’s murder. Oh, I should have mentioned that I have some sort of super powers to kill them.’ She’d land in the local loony bin so fast her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

DI Reece turned to April.

‘Do you know anything about this, April? Does Layla have a boyfriend she might have gone to stay with?’

April shook her head.

‘No, as far as I know she was still cut up about Milo.’

‘That’s the boy who died?’ said Silvia. ‘She was involved with him?’

Reece nodded. ‘Another of the reasons we’re concerned. She might well have been feeling emotional last night – I understand the boy fell ill at a similar party a few months ago.’

April felt her stomach turn over.
He fell ill because of me, because I poisoned him with my kiss
, she thought.

The detective’s sharp eyes caught the change in April’s expression.

‘What is it, April? Do you know something about it?’

‘No, not really. Layla did seem a little bit upset at school yesterday, but she seemed back to her old self at the party. I think she might have been drinking though …’

‘Are you sure that’s all? This is important, April. You won’t be getting Layla into any trouble if that’s what you’re worrying about. All we want to do is make sure she’s safe.’

‘I didn’t – I don’t – really know Layla that well.’

‘Really?’ said Reece, raising one eyebrow. ‘Your teacher said she found you two talking yesterday …’ He flipped open his notebook and read a line. ‘… “deep in conversation” was how she put it.’

‘Well, if you must know we were just talking about losing people,’ said April, blushing at the lie. ‘You know, my dad’s just died and she had Milo pass away …’

Reece looked at her sceptically.

‘That doesn’t sound like someone you barely knew.’

‘I suppose we had a few things in common, but I wouldn’t have called her a close friend.’

‘And was one of these things in common this boy Milo?’ asked Reece.

‘What are you implying?’ snapped April. ‘I didn’t have anything to do with Milo.’

‘April, I’m just trying to get a handle on Layla’s state of mind.’

April shook her head.

‘I told you, we talked about people around us dying. That does seem to be happening a lot, despite all the stuff the police keep saying about how safe we all are.’

Reece didn’t rise to the bait. ‘We are sympathetic to your loss, April. If you need to talk about it, we can arrange for a counsellor if you’d like?’

‘Oh yes, and what would I say?’ said April angrily, ‘Oh, my dad had his throat torn out by some mad psycho and bled to death in my arms? Are they going to have similar stories to share?’

Silvia cleared her throat.

‘I think what April’s saying is that she’d rather talk to me about it.’

‘No I’m not, Mum!’ said April. ‘How could I talk to you about it? You weren’t here, were you?’

‘I can’t help that I wasn’t here, darling,’ said Silvia, looking shocked.

‘But you’re never here, are you? You’ve always got something better to do, you don’t want to hear about my problems …’ she looked over at DI Reece and trailed off. ‘Sorry, Mr Reece, you came here to talk about Layla, didn’t you?’

Reece nodded and stood up.

‘Don’t worry, if anything occurs to you, you’ve got my number. I know you appreciate how concerned we are about Layla.’

April walked out with Reece. In the hallway, she stopped.

‘Do you really think Layla going missing has anything to do
with my dad and all the other stuff?’ she asked quietly.

Reece looked at her for a long moment. ‘If I was saying this to anyone else, April,’ he said, ‘I’d give you the usual police line of “don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll turn up”, but I’m really not convinced. We’ve been to her house. It doesn’t look as though she has taken anything. No bag or clothes are missing. She didn’t plan to disappear, that’s for sure. And no one has heard from her. In today’s world, that’s the most worrying thing. A seventeen-year-old girl who hasn’t so much as texted a friend in almost twenty-four hours? That’s a worry.’

April opened the front door for the detective.

‘Much as I hate to admit it, April, I think your mother’s right about the car.’ He nodded towards the police car parked in the square. ‘Whoever or whatever we’re dealing with here is not going to let that stop him.’

April nodded solemnly. ‘I’ll be careful.’

He smiled. ‘You see that you do.’

‘Oh and Mr Reece? Why did you say “If it was anyone else”? Why did you tell me the truth about this?’

The smile faded from Reece’s face.

‘Partly because you lost your dad and that business with Marcus Brent – you understand the stakes, but also …’

‘But what?’

‘Because I think you know more about what’s going on here than you’re telling me.’

‘Honestly, I don’t …’

Reece held up a hand to stifle her protests.

‘That’s fine, April, I know you must have your reasons. But twenty years in this job has taught me one thing: secrets are like wounds. The longer you ignore them, hide them away and pretend they’re not bothering you, the longer they have to fester. Eventually, they make you ill. You can’t keep secrets for ever, April.’

St Michael’s was taller than she remembered. It sat overlooking the cemetery like a disapproving aunt. There was always something about churches that made her think of Miss Batty, her old headmistress in Edinburgh, a pinched-faced old harridan who looked down her nose at you, whether you were misbehaving or not.
Houses of worship should be just that
, thought April,
somewhere you come to celebrate and rejoice
. But big churches like this always made her feel as if she had done something wrong.
Or maybe I’ve got something to confess
, she thought to herself. Her conversation with DI Reece had unsettled her. Without saying as much, he seemed to be implying something similar to Miss Holden, earlier that day. That unless April pulled her finger out and did something, more people were going to die. People she cared about.
People I love
, she thought with a blush as she pushed open the door and saw the aisle ahead of her. God, April, what are you doing thinking about marriage at a time like this
?
She cast her eyes upwards, nervous that God might be looking down, tutting and shaking his head.
What? What have I done? I only want to love him, be with him
, she thought
. I thought you were all about love
.

April sat down on the edge of a pew, not entirely sure what she was doing there and feeling small and insignificant. Everyone seemed to be telling her she was super important, but April certainly didn’t feel that way. She thought about Layla, hoping she was okay. That was the other thing about being in church: it made you want the best for people – at least while you were there.

Looking up, her eyes were drawn to the stained-glass window. Scenes from the Bible, Jesus feeding the five thousand, Jesus healing the sick. But there was one detail that didn’t quite fit. A fox resting at Jesus’ feet. It had red eyes and one foot rested on a sword. What the hell was that all about? Admittedly April hadn’t spent a huge amount of time studying the Bible – in fact she and Fiona had pretty much used their RE lessons as a free period in which to pass notes back and forth, giggling – but she didn’t remember there being any foxes in the New Testament. Wasn’t it all set in, like, Israel and Egypt? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think they had foxes out there.

She walked down towards the altar, remembering how she had felt seeing her dad’s coffin right there, covered with flowers. It was still raw and she had to force herself not to start crying.

Under her feet she saw a carved slab reading, ‘Beneath this stone lies the body of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’, followed by a strange verse:

Stop, Christian Passer-by! – Stop, child of God,

And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod

A poet lies, or that which once seem’d he.

O, lift one thought in prayer for S.T.C.;

That he who many a year with toil of breath

Found death in life, may here find life in death!

Mercy for praise – to be forgiven for fame

He asked, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same!

Coleridge? Hadn’t he been mentioned in English? What’s he doing buried in the middle of the floor? The squeak of a rubber sole on the stone floor made April look up. The vicar, Mr Gordon, was approaching. He had red cheeks and young, kind eyes. He’d done a good job at her dad’s funeral and she’d felt safe with him. She only hoped he could help her now.

‘Our most distinguished resident,’ said the vicar, nodding towards the plaque.