The Sand Men (35 page)

She tried to rise. ‘I have to find my daughter.’

‘She’ll be here soon. You had a text message.’ He held up her iPhone so that she could read the screen.

Staying late with the others. We’re working at the beach house. We’ll get something to eat out. Love, Cara.

‘That isn’t from her,’ said Lea firmly.

‘Then who else could it be from?’

‘From them.’

‘Who are they?’

‘It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t understand.’ She tried again. ‘That text is not from my daughter.’

‘You know what I think?’ said Dr Vance patiently. ‘You’ve been upsetting yourself unnecessarily. I’ve seen it happen a lot with the ladies here. When you’ve got so little to worry about, you make yourself fret over the tiniest things.’

‘Can you stop fucking patronising me? I don’t have a fever, I’m not imagining things. I know when there’s a problem. I’m not a child.’

Dr Vance winced at the use of coarse language. ‘Of course, but you must admit you’re overwrought, and it’s really over nothing. The children are quite safe.’

‘The children are safe? Do you have the faintest idea about what’s going on here?’ She looked around herself, trying to understand. She vaguely remembered standing on the lawn, a conversation which had turned into an argument. What had she said? How much had she given away?

‘Let’s try this another way,’ said Dr Vance. ‘Do you know what we mean by the term
paraphrenia
?’

‘I don’t know—’

‘It’s a less recognised state to that of paranoia. A mental disorder, characterized by an organised system of delusions that may or may not include highly lucid hallucinations, without any deterioration of intellect or personality. Of course, everyone’s a little paranoid. I often think people are taking my pens. Do you see what I’m saying? Paranoia is thinking everyone’s out to get you. Paraphrenia is creating a belief system that explains
why
everyone is out to get you. A classic example is conspiracy theory. People who believe in complex conspiracies are simply trying to reorganise their fantasies into a rational pattern. And I think that’s what you’re trying to do.’

‘But if I’m determined to organise my fantasies, that’s just what I’d be expecting you to say.’

Dr Vance chuckled. ‘Very good, Mrs Brook. You catch on very quickly.’

You have no idea how quickly,
she thought. She gave what she hoped would be mistaken for a genuine smile of relief. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps you’re right. I’ve been stressed for a while and I’m not sleeping well. I think I just needed to rest. In fact, I feel much better now. But I think I should go home, just in case my husband is worried.’

‘I don’t think you’re up to it just yet. Why don’t you stay and rest a little longer?’ Dr Vance’s smile was safe and vacuous. ‘Get yourself back to full strength. We don’t want you falling over in the dark. The street lights are out. We think there’s a problem with the substation.’

She turned to the window and saw that the power was off across the entire compound. Above the rooftops was the distant glow of the city’s business sector, which clearly still had electricity.

‘I still feel very sleepy,’ she said, measuring her words carefully. ‘You’re right. Maybe I should have another nap, if it’s not putting anyone out.’

‘That’s better. I’m sure Mrs Busabi won’t mind.’ Dr Vance placed his hands on his knees and rose. ‘Perhaps you’d like me to get her to make you a nice hot drink. Then she can come back and sit with you for a while, just until you doze off.’ He took his leave with some reluctance, watching her. ‘If you think you’re going to be all right now, I should really be heading home to my family.’

As soon as he left the room Lea climbed out from the cushions and searched around for her shoes. She found them neatly tucked under the sofa. Holding them in her hand, she walked to the door and listened. Voices came from the kitchen. She pulled the door open a fraction.

‘—keep her here for a while, if that’s no inconvenience—’

‘—fine, I have no plans for this evening—’

‘—because she really can’t go home yet. You know how distraught some of the ladies get—’

Lea opened the door wide enough to slip out, walking on tiptoe into the hall. She could see the doctor and Mrs Busabi in the kitchen with their backs to her. Gently depressing the latch of the front door, she tried to open it but it was stuck. She pulled harder, but it would not move.

There was a bolt on the inside of the door, like the one she had seen in Milo’s house. Why did they have them in a secure compound? Rachel had known why. The enemy was inside.

She slid the bolt back as quietly as she could but it squeaked painfully. She froze, holding her breath. No sound came from the kitchen.

She tried again, gently easing the bolt out. Opening the door as quietly as she could, she ran down the steps and tiptoed barefoot across the lawn, out into the street. She was remembering more now; she had yelled at Mrs Busabi. The poor woman must have thought she was having some kind of a nervous breakdown. No wonder the doctor had given her a sedative.

As she wandered out into the road, her shoes still in her hand, she felt the world tipping on its axis. She hadn’t smoked grass since college because it had thrown her sense of balance, and the sensation returned violently now, tilting the road at a drunken angle. Glancing back, she saw that Mrs Busabi’s front door was still pulled close. They hadn’t yet noticed her absence. She could not stop to put on her shoes; that would mean sitting down, and she doubted she would be able to rise again.

Concentrate
, she told herself,
keep putting one foot in front of the other and don’t look up until you’re home.

The identical streets passed on either side, differentiated only by the species of plants and makes of cars. Moonlight had flattened the landscape, robbing it of light and life. The spacey sensation distanced her. It was like walking on a planet with a different atmosphere.

She turned into her street, no more familiar than any of the others, and watched as her house approached. A red flatbed truck swung around the corner and slammed to a halt in front of her. It was too dark to see who was driving, but her instinct was to get away. She remembered what Ben Larvin had told her. No-one could be trusted.

Chapter Forty-Four

The Ganesh

‘M
RS
B
ROOK.
’ A
S
if to prove her wrong, the voice was recognisably one that belonged to a friend. Rashad Karmeel came around the truck and took her arm. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. The streetlights aren’t working. Did you find your daughter?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘I don’t know. The electricity—’

‘The phone mast at the compound entrance is down, some of the networks are out and the street lights are off. I think it’s a pretty big fault. Hardly surprising, with so much energy being used by the resort tonight.’

They’ve vandalised the mast and the substation,
she thought. ‘Everyone’s been telling me there’s nothing to worry about,’ she said. ‘I have to find Cara.’

‘Have you got a signal? Maybe you’re on a different provider.’

Lea checked her phone. ‘No, nothing.’

‘It could be coincidence,’ said Rashad. ‘I can call the emergency services again.’

‘The lights are out for a reason.’

‘What do you mean?’ He looked at her. ‘What sort of reason?’

‘Are you a director, Rashad?’ she asked.

‘No, of course not. Why?’

I was going to wait for her,
she thought,
but that’s what they want. They want us to stay home. They stage accidents to preserve their secrets. How would they keep me quiet? What would they do? It would have to be something believable. A gas explosion, perhaps. No-one would ever investigate it properly.
At some point she realised that she had been speaking out loud. ‘You know the worst part? I have no proof that it’s even happening. How could I convince anyone? But I’ve seen for myself, I know what they do in the vault. It’s right there in plain sight. You can see for yourself too.’

Rashad did not look at her as if she was mad, or pity her. ‘I have to go back to Dream World. I can check it out for you, if you like.’

‘You believe me?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I understand, but I have no reason not to believe you.’

‘Then could I come with you? Roy said he has to finish up there tonight, and Leo Hardy was heading back there. I don’t trust Hardy, but I trust the police even less. Do you think you can get back in?’ Her head was starting to clear. Paradoxically, Dream World felt like the one place that might provide a safe harbour. Cara would call if she chose to believe her.

‘I have a Premium Pass. It should work until the security seal is activated at midnight. Only directors will be allowed in after that.’

‘I can show you what I saw.’ She came around to the passenger side of the vehicle. The Renault could stay at her house. It would make them think she was still in the compound.

Rashad put the truck in gear. ‘If your husband and daughter aren’t there you’ll have to get a taxi back. Most of them have been commandeered for VIP use tonight.’

‘I’ll figure it out. Just give me a lift.’ She tipped her head and listened. ‘It’s so silent. The calm before the storm.’

They set off across Dream Ranches, the only vehicle moving through the dark deserted suburban streets. Shortly they reached the blacked-out perimeter wall and traced it around to the entrance gates, passing only one other car along the way.

‘Maybe you should drive slower,’ she said. ‘There could be anything out there.’

When Rashad pulled up, they found the barriers down and the sentry booth empty. The highway beyond the compound was brightly lit and busy, a world away. Lea looked back at the darkened houses. The compound had turned into a jail, and the people inside it didn’t even know they were inmates.

‘The guards are supposed to be here twenty-four hours a day,’ said Rashad, climbing out. ‘The next shift doesn’t end for another two hours.’ He walked over to the deserted booth and tried the door. It was locked. Inside, the computer terminals were powered off.

Lea joined him. She pushed against the barrier but felt no give. ‘Could we move these back manually?’

‘No. They’re electronically controlled and made of galvanised steel. I watched them being installed.’

‘The other gate at the rear of the compound, near the old underpass, there’s only usually only one guard on it,’ Lea pointed out. ‘We could try that.’

‘Look.’ Rashad pointed up at the black phone mast that stood above the acacia bushes beside the entrance. The top antenna had collapsed on itself. It looked as if it had been hacked off at the point where it joined the base.

‘You think they cut the mains power as well?’ Lea asked.

‘Maybe. Come on.’

As they drove back across the compound they passed a grey steel electricity substation at the side of the road. Its doors had been wrenched open and stood wide. The wiring had been pulled out in fistfuls and thrown on the grass. There were no emergency service vehicles to be found.

‘Where are the police? They’re usually patrolling. Why aren’t they around?’

‘Maybe they’re tied up with the opening,’ Rashad said.

They had pulled up against the rear exit, but that, too, was closed, the barrier firmly locked in place, the sentry box empty.

‘Is there any other way out?’

‘When we sealed up the entrance to the underpass, we reopened a small slip-road to remove materials to the other side of the freeway. We closed it after we finished, but I don’t think it was properly sealed. I could probably get it open again.’

‘Let’s go.’

Rashad drove his truck off the road and across the hard scrubland beyond the houses, keeping his headlights on low beam. After five minutes of bouncing over pack-earth they came to the grassy freeway embankment, where a narrow section of the slope had been patched with sheets of corrugated iron.

‘I have some tools in the back of the truck,’ he told her. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

Rashad turned off the truck lights. They found a hammer and a crowbar in a rucksack on the flatbed, and began prising off the panels, working by the light of the stars. The panels were easily removed, but Lea could see a lot of debris inside.

‘Is it wide enough to get the truck through?’ she asked, standing back.

‘Just about. We’ll have to clear some rubble.’

They dragged the last of the panels aside and entered the tunnel. Rashad’s headlights sent rats scampering. Slowly working their way through, they shoved aside bricks, barrels and planks, until they had reached the far end. Rashad gave the panels a few hard kicks, then nudged them with the truck’s fender. They came down in a spray of dust.

The truck rejoined the highway, and its cabin was flooded with light. The night guards were manning the Dream World gates, and argued with Rashad about his pass. Apparently, he now required an additional admittance code because the resort’s security status had changed in the past hour. It seemed that everyone had been caught by surprise. The guards argued with each other, then with Rashad. Finally, one of them waved the truck through.

‘How did you do that?’ she asked.

‘I get his brothers cheap cigarettes,’ Rashad replied with a grin. ‘Camel Lights.’

‘I need to show you proof of what I’m talking about,’ said Lea. ‘It’s down there on the left. Pull over just past the next junction.’ She checked her original eyeline from the North tower and indicated the octagonal concrete building. She had expected to pass Hardy and his men. The security officer’s Land Rover was sitting in the car park.

Jumping down from the truck, she headed for the vault. As she walked toward it, she saw that the door now sported a newly fitted electronic swipe-card box. She tried to move it, but it had been firmly bolted into the steel. ‘It was open before.’

‘Problems have a way of disappearing quickly around here.’ Rashad walked along the wall, trailing his fingers over the emerald tilework.