Tedd and Todd's secret (25 page)

"You're not bothering me," she told him. "It's just that if I stop, it takes me a great effort to get going again."

"Don't worry. I understand," he said, suddenly pleased to have made a connection. "I should do the same. Concentrate and keep my mouth shut, but I've got to confess this activity bores me."

"I know what you mean," she said slowing down herself. "You need discipline to keep at it and most of the time that's tedious."

"That doesn't seem to be your problem. You're in good shape," Aston said, taking in the line of her legs, flattering her carefully.

He forced himself not to say anything else. There was a lot there that wanted to come out. But he said nothing. Instead, he waited for her to pick the baton up, and slowly the faintest of smiles drew itself across her lips, which only underlined the sadness in her eyes more. He thought perhaps, despite her beauty, that hers was a face that rarely showed happiness.

"Thanks, I try to keep as fit as I can," she said in a whisper.

The sound of her voice lit a lamp in the lawyer's dark heart. His fascination for her was growing by the minute for no apparent reason. An overwhelming need to know more about her was eating him up inside. He was dying to find out if she was married or in a relationship. But that was only half of it. He wanted to know what she did, what she liked, everything about her. No detail would be too much. And right then he would have killed to share a meal with her. He waited while she gradually brought the machine to a slower pace, and then stepped off it.

"My name's Aston," he said casually, disguising his torment to know her name.

"I'm Ashley," she said, stretching her legs after the exercise.

"The effort has knocked me up more than I thought," Aston lied, thinking ahead to what they might do outside the gym. "I've got some time before I go back to work. Fancy having a bite to eat together?"

It seemed that time had come to a stop for Aston. He stood still where he was as if the lack of movement itself would reduce the chance that Ashley would say no. The lawyer went through his chances mentally, thinking about how he'd asked her. He'd been a bit forward, but polite nonetheless. He couldn't see any reason why she'd say no. Unless she had another commitment, that is, or didn't have time, or thought he was ugly, or was happily married, or…

"Sounds good," she said, firing a shot of excitement through the lawyer. "I'll have a shower and we can meet outside. What do you think?"

"Of course. I've got to have a shower too."

They collected their gear and began walking towards the changing rooms. Halfway there, Ashley stopped suddenly, looking around from one side to the other, frowning, as if she was searching for something important.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to accept your invitation," she said absently, while she continued to look for whatever it was she was after.

"What? Why not?" he asked, disappointed.

"Something's come up," she said flatly.

"Was it something I said?" he asked, barely covering his desperation.

"You've got to go," she warned him in a stern voice. "Get away from me."

Then something happened that would be forever engraved in Aston's memory. A strange wheelchair appeared on the left of the room. It was like no wheelchair that Aston had ever seen before. Its back was raised and formed by a curious mixture of wood and metal bathed in silver that reflected the surrounding light dazzlingly. The chair weaved its way through the exercise equipment scattered across the gym floor. It was moving of its own accord.

Ashley threw a towel on the floor and bent her knees and the chair came in behind her and she sat down. Then, without waiting a second, she wheeled her way towards the exit.

"You should have followed him," Lance Norwood complained, looking through the window. "Great cop you are. You've let him get away."

"This is not the time for jokes," Aidan grumbled.

He and Carol were seated in James White's living room, avoiding looking at each other. None of them could believe what had just happened.

"Someone has to say something," Lance insisted, with a note of hysteria in his voice. "If you keep this silence up, I'll go crazy."

"Calm down, Lance," Carol said, patting him on the shoulder. "It's obvious that no one here has any idea how our friend James just did what he did."

"It doesn't surprise me now that he survived that bus accident without a scratch," Aidan recalled. "The strange thing is, there was no white suit this time."

Lance was confused.

"And you find that strange?"

"I didn't think of that," Carol said. "But you're right. The white suit must mean something."

"You're as mad as two hatters," Lance lamented. "And now you're trying to suck me in."

"I've got to go," Aidan said, standing up suddenly. "We'll go through this again later."

"Where are you going?" Lance enquired.

"I've got something important to take care of, something personal."

And before they could blink, he was gone. They chased after him downstairs, and made the street just in time to see the yellow Ferrari drive off.

Aidan Zack wasn't pleased that he'd left them hanging back in the street without an explanation, but he had no option. They wouldn't have approved of what he was about to do and there wasn't any time for arguments.

He dialled a number on his mobile at the first set of traffic lights.

"It's me. You won't have to try and convince me again. You were right."

"What are you talking about?" Wilfred's weak voice asked, trembling over the phone. "Don't speak in riddles, I've just had a session of chemotherapy and I'm in no mood for trivia."

"Cancer," Aidan proclaimed, "is only one of the things that the Blacks and Whites can survive."

"Did James tell you that?" Wilfred demanded.

"No, that bastard's just escaped after jumping out of a window and falling onto the roof of a car six floors below."

"Is that how you interrogate suspects? By throwing them out the window?"

"It was his idea. And if he could survive that and that inferno a week ago, I doubt there's anything else that can hurt him."

Wilfred Gord considered the strange news. "Sounds reasonable. Have you found out anything else?"

"Not much. But what I just told you is good news for you. James told us to keep our noses out of the whole thing. He said we were in danger, especially me."

"That's easy to say coming from someone who appears to be immortal. I'd like to see that dwarf pull back from all this if he only had three months to live. I'm still in. And you?"

"I need to know if they killed my wife. The rest doesn't bother me. But if I find out it was them who killed her. I'll kill all the Blacks and Whites."

Wilfred offered his support. "I'll help you as much as I can. We're a team."

"Prove it," Aidan said. "We had an agreement. Have you forgotten that?"

"I must try and dissuade you one last time. I don't believe it'll do you any good to do what you're thinking of doing."

"That's my problem. I'm done with playing games."

"Very well, I'll put my men on it. They'll tell you where you've got to go."

"Thanks. We'll talk again. And you can bet that next time I won't show up without answers."

Earl Black's muscular body stood out like a beacon among the seven men crossing the park towards the basketball court, ignoring the threat of rain in the sky overhead. The wind was whipping at their sports clothes as they argued about the game they were about to play. They were walking quickly, tossing the ball between them, heading straight for the court, and hardly noticed the short man coming towards them.

But they stopped abruptly when the stranger stopped in front of Earl Black. Nobody moved for what seemed more than a minute. Then each time Earl Black tried to step round the stranger, the little man did the same, blocking Earl's way. It was madness. The park was huge and a scene like this was impossible. And what made it even more absurd was the difference in size between the two men. The stranger was very short, with blond hair and light blue eyes. He was wearing a white suit and his legs were half as long as Earl's arms.

"Get out of my way, short arse," Earl said.

"You're the one who should get out of my way, but you can't, can you?"

"I'll give you one more chance before I flatten you."

"You don't even know who I am, do you?" the little man sighed. "My name's James White and I'm not getting out of your way, Earl Black."

"How do you know my name?" Earl asked, feeling a spasm in his stomach.

"Because I've got a brain, you bag of muscles. And I know a lot more than that. You can't let me pass. Watch!"

James ran suddenly to the right. And without being conscious of what he was doing Earl did the same. When James stopped, he did too.

"Now you're getting the message," James said, smiling.

Astonished, Earl shook his head. Something had changed. Now he was aware that he couldn't let the little man pass, just as he'd said. He had no idea why, but there was no doubt that this was priority number one, right now. When his friends reminded him they were late for the game he didn't even bother answering them, concentrating as he was now on this dwarf dressed in white.

"How did you know that I wouldn't let you pass?" Earl asked him, feeling a stab of hate for James White.

"Because I know who you are," James answered. "And I can see you're beginning to hate me as the minutes tick by. Am I wrong?" Earl didn't answer. He could feel the hatred building inside. "Don't torture yourself," James advised him. "You've felt something similar in the past but you don't remember now. Try and think back. Use your brain for once."

Then Earl remembered. The hatred he felt for White and the need to stop him passing were ideas and emotions that had left a wake in his mind. Some powerful force had annulled his will and he knew suddenly that he'd felt all this before. He remembered the goalposts, just before he disappeared, remembered reappearing in the ladies' toilet. He had no idea how all that had happened. But the feeling he'd had then was the same as now.

"Very well, dwarf. I admit you're right."

"Of course I am. I don't need you to confirm it, you fool."

Earl's friends were astonished to see the little man insulting big Earl like that. It seemed like a death wish. And they all thought Earl would reach out and grab him there and then. But he didn't do anything like that.

"Before my anger takes me over and I crush you like the little insect you are, I want to know how come you know so much about me."

"Don't be in such a hurry. Nothing's going to happen before it's supposed to. It's out of your hands and mine. A couple of imbeciles in two wheelchairs are deciding our fate. That's why this life repulses me so much."

"Are you telling me you know what's going to happen next?"

"I can't say what will happen in detail. I can only make suppositions based on what I know. For example, I'm not going to take a backward step. There's no doubt about that. And at the same time I can't attack you. So there aren't too many options. Either get out of my way, or real soon you'll be wearing an elegant black suit and you'll kill me. Simple, eh?"

CHAPTER 18