by Graham, Tom
‘You worked out that code?’ Sam asked. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure, you idiot,’ Donner said, his voice flat. ‘Who else round here could work out a code like that?’
‘But – Derek Coren told us that he was the one who created that code.’
‘Oh, well, he would say that, wouldn’t he?’ Donner said dismissively. ‘You asked for the truth, and that’s what I’m giving you. It’s his word against mine.’
Annie leant forward, looking at Donner intensely.
‘Let’s assume you are telling the truth,’ she said. ‘Let’s assume for now that you did work out that pinprick code. It took me a long time to crack that code, Donner, and then it was as much through sheer luck as anything else. How would Derek Coren have known how to read the hidden message?’
‘I told him how to do it,’ Donner answered simply.
‘How?’
‘When he was here on a visit to see his brother. I whispered to him, “Hold any letters you receive up to the light.”’
‘And then you worked a letter that was supposedly from Andy, encoded it with information about the escape, and even got it personally approved by Mr McClintock.’ Annie shook her head. ‘And you did all that for Andy Coren out of the goodness of your heart?’
‘I hate to see a good idea go to waste.’
‘But it did go to waste!’ Annie countered. ‘Because the escape failed. Andy Coren died.’
‘Mr McClintock must have spotted the code,’ Donner said. ‘He must have done, because at the last minute he changed Coren’s work roster, he moved him from loading up old fridges to dealing with the ovens. But Coren took a gamble and made an escape attempt anyway. His brother on the outside was looking for the wrong lorry, and the wrong consignment of scrap – and that’s why Andy ended up in the crusher.’
‘And do you feel guilty about that?’ Annie asked.
‘Why should I feel guilty?’
‘It was your plan.’
Donner shrugged, thought for a moment, then said flatly, ‘It was Mr McClintock who killed him, not me.’
Annie turned to Sam and asked for a word in private. Together, they stepped outside. As Sam shut the door behind him, he saw Donner sitting quietly in his chair, unmoving, hands folded in his lap, looking up at the ceiling as if patiently waiting for something to appear there.
‘He’s lying,’ Annie whispered. ‘Everything he’s telling us in there, it’s lies.’
‘I can’t accept that,’ said Sam. ‘Maybe he’s stretching the truth a little, here and there.’
‘Stretching the truth? Sam, it’s all fairy stories what he’s spouting!’
‘He’s just swinging the lead. God knows, he’s a bright enough lad. This is probably the most intellectual stimulation he’s had in months.’
Annie shook her head. ‘It’s not about swinging the lead, Sam. Can’t you see what he’s like? “I figured out a plan, I worked out how to do it, I can play chess problems from my head, it’s all me, me, me, the screws know I’m the smartest one in this place.” That lad’s ego is practically bursting out of him.’
‘So?’
‘I kept pricking that ego of his,’ Annie said, leaning close, her voice low. ‘I was goading him. He’d barely respond. A flicker, nothing more. And then he’d come back with an answer, minutes later. Like when I pushed him about which magazines he got his chess problems from. He carried on talking, but he was working out an answer in the back of his mind – and he wouldn’t have rested until he’d given me that answer, Sam. He just had to put me in my place, no matter how long it took him. He’s cold, Sam. He’s ice cold. He’s like a machine. Yes, he’s smart, and, yes, I’ve no doubt he’s a wizard at chess problems – but I also see a cold, razor-sharp mind with three dead bodies associated with it. I was right about him, Sam. The boy’s a psychopath.’
‘I’m not buying that, Annie. It’s McClintock, he’s the psychopath.’
‘Proof, Sam!’
‘Barton’s testimony,’ Sam replied. ‘The things he told me about – the torture, the electrocutions—’
‘Oh, he was just telling you what you wanted to hear!’ said Annie, waving her hand to dismiss the whole matter. ‘He was terrified of going back. And he knew you were a soft touch if he made himself appear vulnerable enough.’
‘The System is rotten, Annie. McClintock’s System stinks!’
‘Of course it does, Sam, anyone can see that. But it’s not Nazi Germany. McClintock’s not killing anyone. He is.’ She pointed back at the door, beyond which sat Donner.
‘And what if he corroborates what Barton told me?’ Sam asked.
‘He’s bound to, Sam! And I’ll tell you what else he’ll do – he’ll go further. It won’t just be electrocutions or whatever, it’ll be bloody firing squads and branding with hot irons and a ruddy great medieval rack down in the dungeons, and there in the middle of it all, using his Godlike intelligence to win over McClintock and control him, will be our wonder boy, Donner. Go back in there and speak to him, see if I’m not right. And what’s more, Sam, he’s seeing a soft touch in you. He knows you’re playing along, lapping it all up. He’s controlling you.’
‘Nobody’s controlling me!’
‘Oh yes they are. That boy in there, he’s stringing you along. Have you seen any evidence of these so-called torture chambers, eh?’
‘I’ve seen the punishment block. A solitary-confinement cell, Annie, all blacked out, pitch dark.’
‘That’s cruel, but it’s not what Barton was telling you. It’s not boys being plugged into the national grid, is it. Think about it, Sam.’
Sam shook his head. ‘It’s McClintock and his System that’s behind these deaths. I – I have my reasons to be sure about that.’
‘And why won’t you tell me what those reasons are?’
‘And why won’t you just trust me on this, Annie?’
Annie threw up her hands. ‘Sam, you’re not making sense! Evidence, proof – you know better than anyone that’s what we need, not just some hunch!’
‘It’s not a hunch,’ Sam insisted. ‘We need to nail McClintock.’
‘Oh, Sam, forget McClintock, can’t you? McClintock’s just a uniform and a set of rules. That boy Donner, on the other hand, he’s dangerous.’
‘Rubbish!’
‘I don’t think it is rubbish.’
‘Donner’s a victim, not a suspect. Oh, for God’s sake Annie, if only you knew!’
Sam turned away from her. When Annie touched his arm he brushed her off.
‘Think clearly, Sam,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why you’re so hung up on nailing McClintock for all this.’
‘Because he’s guilty!’ Sam hissed back. ‘Him and his System! They both need breaking!’
‘Maybe they do need breaking, Sam, but that’s not why we’re here!’
‘That’s exactly why we’re here!’ Sam cried.
Annie stared at him, frowning.
‘Tell me,’ she said softly, but without warmth. ‘Tell me what game you’re playing here, Sam. It’s like the other night at your flat, when you started talking daft and telling made-up stories about my dad. There’s something going on inside you, and I want to know what it is.’
Sam ran his hands over his face. How the hell could he explain everything to her? How could he tell her the danger she was in? How could he make her understand that everything he was doing he was for her and her alone?
‘Sam? What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you see Donner for what he is?’
Because Donner was irrelevant! It was McClintock he needed to destroy! It was McClintock and his System that needed to be broken, and, in breaking them, a blow would be struck against the Devil in the Dark that was drawing closer all the time. Perhaps it would be the fatal blow, the one that would break the stranglehold of Fate and release Annie from the terrible destiny that awaited her. That lad Donner was nothing. Nothing. But McClintock – he was everything.
And what if I
’m wrong? What if Annie’s right? Have I misunderstood everything? Damn it, damn it, it’s all too much for me!
Sam dug his fingers into his scalp, as if he could gouge out the confusion and turmoil in his brain. In his mind’s eye, he saw that gold-plated fob watch nestling in McClintock’s pocket, its slender chain forming a link through space and time to Perry – and then from Perry to Annie, connecting them all one to the other, yoking them altogether in some terrible web of Fate that defied even death and the grave to ensnare them.
I’m just a copper, for God’s sake – I shouldn’t have to be dealing with this – I’m just a simple bloody copper.
‘I’m feeling very confused,’ Sam muttered, his back to Annie.
‘You should have stayed off sick like the Guv said.’
‘I’m not sick. I’ve just … seen too much. I’m … confused, and it’s all so … big.’
‘Sam, I don’t understand what you mean?’
‘I—’ He swallowed, and turned to face her. ‘I’m here to save you. If I can. It’s more important than you can imagine. Somehow – and I just know this, Annie – it’s McClintock. He’s the one, he’s the one who—’
‘Forget McClintock!’ Annie yelled at him, her patience suddenly snapping. ‘It’s Donner! We need to nick Donner!’
And at that moment, they both realized that Donner was standing in the open doorway, staring at them. There was a still moment of silence. Donner tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, then said quietly, ‘Time for the endgame.’
And, with that, he hurled himself at them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: IT ALL KICKS OFF
Donner’s fist slammed into Sam’s jaw. He fell back against a wall, stunned, Annie leaping to his defence as Donner rushed into the kitchens yelling, ‘McClintock’s gone! Now’s our chance! McClintock’s gone!’
Annie dragged Sam to his feet.
‘You okay?’
Far from scrambling his brain, the sudden blow had miraculously cleared Sam’s thoughts. The fog of confusion and metaphysical turmoil that once again threatened to swamp him had vanished. Everything became very clear. It made no sense, but it was clear.
I got it wrong. McClintock’s not the danger here. It’s Donner.
In the kitchens, boys were standing dumbly, staring at Donner as he shouted at them, ‘McClintock’s gone! The System’s fallen apart! We can do what we want!’
The warder came striding furiously towards him, glaring fiercely from beneath his peaked cap. ‘Oi, you! Shut your face, you little shit! And all the rest of you, get back to—’
Donner grabbed a huge metal saucepan and smashed it against the back of the warder’s head. As the man went down, Donner clubbed him, over and over, expressionless and dead-eyed, until the pan handle snapped.
‘We can do what we want now,’ Donner declared. ‘They can’t stop us. They can’t stop us!’
The mood of the room suddenly shifted as the boys standing around the kitchen sprang into life, and all at once there was chaos. Instinctively, Sam grabbed Annie and hauled her away. All about them, knives were flashing, cooking utensils and food were being hurled about, windows were being smashed. Donner, having adjusted his grip on the shorter pan handle, was still mechanically bludgeoning the warder, stopping only when the handle broke off completely. By then he was standing in a slowly spreading pool of red.
Reaching the corridor, Sam shoved Annie through and glanced back. The whole kitchen was in uproar. The boys were going crazy, smashing everything, trashing the place. And there, in the middle of it all, calm and controlled but by far the most dangerous of them all, stood Donner, his face speckled with blood, his pale, unreadable eyes staring slowly about at the tinderbox he had just ignited.
Boys roared out of the kitchen, howling and shrieking. They burst into the dorms, spreading the contagion of the riot. From every side now, windows were breaking, boys were howling, warders were screaming.
We’re surrounded – overwhelmed!
Sam grabbed Annie’s hand. He would not let go of her. Nothing – nothing – would make him let go of her.
That little bitch from the test card tricked me. She made me think the System here was what needed to be broken – when in truth it was the one thing holding back this tidal wave of violence.
Still clutching her hand, Sam dragged Annie out into a corridor, trying desperately to recall which way led to the front gates.
So this is how that damned Devil is reaching out for Annie. It’s through Donner. It’s through this riot!
Tearing along the corridor, disoriented and lost, they raced past rooms and dormitories that were filled with chaos. The boys were smashing everything – beds, furniture, windows, and the skulls of any warders they could get their hands on.
Will we be surrounded and attacked? Is this how Annie will be dragged away from me?
He renewed his grasp on her hand, even though he was crushing her.
I’m sorry, Annie – I was wrong. I would never have let you come here if I’d known how wrong I was.
Whichever direction the two of them were going in, it wasn’t leading them out. Up ahead, the corridor ended in a row of bars and a stout metal gate. Sam recognized it at once as the entrance to the punishment block where the Black Hole was situated.
‘No getting out that way!’ Sam cried. ‘We’ve got no choice but to double back.’
But at that moment, haring along the corridor towards them, came Chris, his hair flopping wildly about his pale and terrified face.
‘Keep going, keep going!’ he howled, and raced past them towards the punishment block.
Moments later, Ray appeared, sprinting along behind him.
‘It’s all kicking off back there!’ he cried. ‘This way, quick!’
He too ran past them. Together, Chris and Ray bundled through the metal gate and peered anxiously back through the bars.
‘Don’t fanny about, Boss!’ Ray called to them. ‘In here, sharpish!’
From somewhere back along the corridor came a succession of crashes and thuds. Windows shattered. Boys’ voices shrieked and howled wildly.
‘They’re ripping the place to shreds up there!’ Chris grizzled. ‘There’s millions of ’em! Billions of ’em!’
‘No way out, Boss! Our only hope is to hole up in here, lock the door, and wait for reinforcements!’
‘Where’s Gene?’ asked Sam.
‘And what about McClintock and Fellowes?’ put in Annie.
At that moment, a figure in a billowing camel-hair coat came pounding up the corridor, his face red and shiny with sweat. Hot on his heels roared a furious mob of boys, hurling debris and howling for blood.
‘Keep moving, you nonces!’ Gene bellowed at them.
At once, Sam grabbed Annie and pushed her towards the punishment block, where Ray pulled her though the gate. But when Sam turned back he saw that Gene had halted and was reaching under his coat.
‘Guv, let’s go!’
Gene ignored him. He drew the Magnum. The huge barrel glittered dully. The horde of boys clattered to a sudden, chaotic stop and stared at the monstrous firearm aimed at them.
‘Now then, kiddiewinkies,’ Gene intoned. ‘Say hello to Uncle Genie’s big bad boom-stick.’
The boys filled the corridor, but they neither retreated nor advanced.
‘You wanna rush me?’ Gene challenged them. ‘Then rush me.’ He cocked the hammer with his thumb. ‘That’s right, lads. Grown-up toys.’
Keeping the Magnum levelled at the boys, Gene backed up along the corridor. Out of the corner of his mouth he hissed at Sam, ‘Move.’
‘Where’s McClintock and Fellowes?’ Sam whispered back.
‘God knows, we lost ’em in all the fun and games.’
‘We can’t just abandon them, Guv!’
‘I don’t think we’ve got much say in the matter, Tyler. Now, don’t just stand there, dopey bollocks, shift yourself! Now!’
Together, Sam and Gene turned and ran. The borstal boys came cr
ashing after them. Sam felt Gene thrust him through the open metal door that sealed off the end of the corridor, and then bundled in right after him. They slammed the gate.
‘Lock it!’ Gene ordered.
‘With what?’ Ray yelled back, bracing the door with his own body.
‘We ain’t got no key!’ Chris howled in despair.
A barrage of missiles rained down and crashed against the bars. Ray fell back, pelted with chunks of broken furniture. Chris threw himself against a wall and covered his head with both hands. Sam positioned himself in front of Annie, ready to die to protect her if that was what it took – and, at the same time, he cursed himself, over and over, for having brought her here, for not seeing the danger where it really lay, for letting himself be lured into a trap.
Gene strode forward and pointed the Magnum, but, without warning, a huge metal filing cabinet crashed against the metal bars like a battering ram. The gate burst open with a resounding clang, slamming into Gene’s hand and sending the Magnum skittering away along the polished floor. All in a split second Sam glimpsed Gene stumbling back against a wall as the boys poured in. He saw Ray swinging a punch, and Chris howling in terror. Annie turned to Sam, her face ashen, her eyes wide.
I’m so sorry, Annie, I was wrong, I was wrong.
And then something large and heavy crashed down on him with a shuddering impact. Sam lost his footing, fell, slammed into the floor – but at that very moment he felt strong hands pulling him up again.
‘Don’t damage him!’ a youthful voice ordered. The tones were familiar.
Sam felt himself being gripped tightly, his hands forced up his back, an arm clamping itself around his neck.
‘Easy!’ the young voice said. ‘This is Mr Gould’s new purchase. He doesn’t want it broken before he’s had a chance to play with it.’
The clamour of the riot had stopped. Cool night breeze brushed across Sam’s face.
Oh, no – oh, no, not again!
The realization of where he was struck Sam suddenly, right in the guts, making his stomach heave and lurch as if he were in a suddenly plummeting aircraft. That was Perry’s voice he could hear – and those arms clamped around him were not the arms of borstal boys on the rampage, but two huge, bald bouncers dressed in immaculate 1960s suits. In front of him stood an open doorway, with a staircase plunging down into darkness. Above him shone a sign that said: ‘HOUSE OF DIAMONDS’.