The Killing Moon

by A. S. French

  The blood was drying on her palm as Astrid rubbed at it. ‘Well, there are one or two good ones, but most authority figures shouldn’t be trusted.’

  ‘And why are you encouraging her to run away from the care home?’

  ‘I’m doing nothing of the sort.’

  She scanned the list of food and ignored Grace’s blazing eyes. She decided what she wanted and peered out the window, watching the kid isolate herself from the others. The girl examined the packet of cigarettes before gazing across the road.

  ‘I heard what you said to her, don’t deny it.’

  Astrid smiled at Grace before turning her warmth towards the approaching server. ‘Can you give us a couple of minutes? We should have another joining us soon.’

  The waitress shrugged and turned to serve someone else. The place smelt of toffee sauce and melted chocolate.

  ‘You think the kid will come here after what you promised her?’

  Grace’s annoyance wasn’t going away. Astrid scrutinised the girl through the window.

  ‘How old is she, fifteen at the most?’

  Grace crossed her arms and sulked. ‘Probably.’

  ‘I’d been living on the street for a year at that age, escaping from parents I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I’d never got along with my sister, but what happened with our father, what he did to me and how he ended up in prison made it worse.’

  ‘Your sister didn’t believe you?’

  The anger disappeared from Grace’s face. Astrid flicked a piece of dirt from her arm.

  ‘Courtney? She encouraged him to beat me. Sometimes she’d watch, making sure I saw her grinning at me.’

  Grace’s eyes and mouth froze wide open. ‘My God, Astrid, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.’ She reached a hand across the table, but Astrid didn’t take it. ‘Did your mother know what was going on?’

  Astrid picked up a salt cellar and poured some of its contents into her palm. ‘She knew and didn’t care, comfortably numb cradling a bottle of rum.’ She rubbed the grains between her fingers, the salt stinging the small cut in her skin, before dropping them onto the table. ‘So I sought refuge outside the family and found a collective that I thought was like me, but that was another mistake.’

  ‘What do you mean a collective like you?’

  ‘A London gang with high ideals of honour, but who were only criminals. They taught me a lot of valuable things, and I quickly became their cybercrime expert. I hacked into government websites, big business and international corporations, and discovered loopholes that allowed me to enter celebrities’ and politicians’ private files.

  ‘I thought I was doing something good for the world, righting wrongs and helping people; redistributing money and resources to those who needed it the most.’ She laughed at the absurdity of the teenage version of herself, believing she was a modern Robin Hood. ‘That was until I realised the gang were only using me for their criminal ventures. I was planning my second escape from those who controlled me when I ended up in prison at seventeen, and was then offered another way to live.’

  Grace stayed silent, picking at the menu and avoiding her partner’s gaze.

  Astrid didn’t suppress the memories; there were some good times with Ramon and his gang. But things changed when she left them behind and learnt how to control her life: only then, when she could help herself, was she able to help others.

  But now, as a stranger in Angel Springs, could she find a missing teenager?

  13 Private Investigations

  Grace placed the menu on the table.

  ‘You became a spy?’

  Astrid pushed her shoulder into the booth, surprised at how the conversation had turned to her life.

  ‘That sounds so glamorous.’ The laugh hurt her throat. ‘It’s not how you see it in the movies. The Agency is the clandestine government organisation the public doesn’t know exists; they have no official designation compared to the other intelligence services. Imagine your CIA, but even more secretive and not answering to the customary laws of the nation.’

  The waitress brought a jug of water over, and Grace poured a glass for each of them.

  ‘So, you’re not Jane Bond, 007 then?’

  Astrid sipped at the drink, hoping to remove the bitter taste in her mouth, but failing. ‘Hardly. The Agency deals with internal and external security threats to Great Britain and is accountable only to itself.’ A decade and a half of memories tumbled through her head, laid out like chapters on a DVD. She could separate them by date, country, target, outcome, and any number of other fields. ‘I was part of an organisation which handled things never intended for the public or the courts. Every nation has an Agency, whether they admit it or not.’

  Grace’s eyes widened. ‘Surely there’s some government oversight. Otherwise, they could do whatever they wanted outside the law.’

  Astrid brushed the last of the salt from her palm. ‘And that’s exactly why they were created. The British government wanted an organisation to operate outside the law and deal with those threats things like freedom and rights would only hamper.’ A sad smile drifted across her face. ‘And once you’re in the Agency, the only way out is inside a wooden box. But I thought different.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Think about it, Grace. If you’re an official organisation allowed to operate above and beyond the law, those in charge are never going to allow you to leave and tell the truth about its actions. There is no retiring from the Agency, no option for a pension and an early departure; you work for them until you’re physically or emotionally incapable of doing it anymore. Any kickback against this, any revolt or insurrection, only leads to confinement where no one will ever find you. But I choose a different path once I’d had enough.’

  Grace watched Polly through the window as the girl crossed the street. ‘What are you going to say to her?’

  ‘I don’t want her to run away.’ She smiled at Grace. ‘You should give her a foster home for at least a month to see how it goes.’

  Grace’s mouth hit the floor as the waitress arrived, and Polly entered. The server was bright-eyed and full of beans, taking their orders in super quick time. Grace was still shell shocked, so Astrid ordered the same for both of them: bacon, eggs and toast with coffee. The kid got the same plus two stacks of waffles covered in syrup. Then there was silence for several seconds, only broken by the girl slapping her hand on to the table.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ She continued talking before any reply. ‘I know why you came to the home, and you were asking about Katie. I don’t know anything about her or what happened to her, and even if I did, what makes you think I’d tell you two?’

  Astrid watched the kid’s lips hammering away at ninety miles a minute, imagining seeing a different version of herself.

  ‘We don’t want anything from you, Polly; I promise. But we can offer you a way out of that home.’ She glanced at Grace, noticing the irritation still lingering behind her eyes.

  The first stack of waffles arrived as the kid glared at Astrid. The smell of syrup and sugar wafted in the air between them. Polly picked up a fork and dived in, devouring two of them before she spoke.

  ‘How do you know my name? Nobody calls me that here.’

  Astrid pointed at the figure printed on the kid’s shirt. ‘Because I grew up listening to her music when I was your age, and I assumed if you’re going to have a picture of Poly Styrene on your chest, it’s because you identify with her as I did.’ She grinned. ‘Then I guessed your name.’

  The kid did a lousy job of wiping her face with the back of her hand. ‘You’re the only person I’ve met who knows who she was.’ She leant in closer to Astrid. ‘You don’t look old enough to have been around when punk was out.’

  Astrid laughed as the waitress brought the rest of the order. ‘Thanks; I’ll take that as a complement.’ She scooped a forkful of scrambled eggs between her lips, following the kid’s example and talking with her mouth full. ‘You’re right, P
olly; I’m not that old, but I did discover X-Ray Spex and lots of other music when I was about your age, and it helped me get through some difficult times. Grace and I would like to help you if we can.’

  The girl finished the first plate of waffles and shovelled a large slice of bacon into her mouth, scrutinising both of them as she did.

  ‘Are you two a couple?’

  Grace pulled at the collar of her shirt and stammered an answer. ‘We’re partners on a case.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ She grinned at them. ‘You look like you’d make a great couple.’ She stared at Astrid. ‘You’re English?’

  Astrid nodded. ‘I came to America to find a kid, a lot younger than you, who’d been abducted by her father.’

  Polly chomped on the bacon, her eyes as wide as her mouth. ‘And did you do that; did you find her?’

  ‘I did, but now I’m searching for someone else, a girl about your age, name of Alex Sanchez.’

  Polly never lifted her head from the table. ‘I know her; everyone did.’

  ‘Did?’ Grace sat forward. ‘Why do you say that about her?’

  Polly slurped at her coffee. ‘Because she’s missing, and there’s no happy ending in this town if a kid goes missing. Just ask Katie Spencer.’

  ‘Didn’t she run away because she was unhappy in the care home?’

  The kid spat shards of bacon over the table. ‘Lady, nobody runs away from there because it’s bad. Ms Conway might be a bit hippy-dippy, but she makes sure all the kids are looked after and safe. I lived in two other places before this one, and they were like the Wild West in comparison.’ She put her fork down and peered at Astrid. ‘Every kid in there wants to be with a family who loves them, I’m not gonna deny that, but Conway’s place is the best were gonna get unless the impossible happens.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Grace said.

  Polly twisted her face towards her. ‘Who’s gonna want a fourteen-year-old whose parents are locked up because they’re druggies? Especially when they look like me.’

  A combination of sadness and gravity dragged her shoulders down. She peered at Grace as Astrid watched the girl pour her soul into the Police Officer. The teenager’s eyes shifted to the side, glazed with a layer of grief. As she blinked, sorrow dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. Polly bit her lip as Astrid glanced at Grace, knowing the kid had done her job for her.

  ‘If the care home is such a safe place to live, why would Katie run away?’ Astrid said.

  The teenager started on the second plate of waffles. ‘That’s the point; she wouldn’t. And she didn’t have anywhere to run to. It doesn’t make any sense.’

  Astrid summoned her most welcoming tone of voice. ‘Polly, how would you like to live with Officer Crowley for a while?’

  The girl sat back, wide-eyed and with bacon hanging from her lips.

  ‘What?’

  ‘At least to see how the two of you get on.’ Polly gulped her food and rubbed at her eyes. ‘A month should give you plenty of time to educate Officer Crowley on what good music is, because what she has at home is sorely lacking.’

  ‘Hey,’ Grace said to her in mock horror. At that moment, Astrid knew she’d convinced one of them.

  But what about the girl?

  ‘You want me to be a cop’s kid?’ The shadows around her eyes darkened even further.

  ‘I’d like you to have a decent life.’ Astrid gazed through Polly’s expression and into her heart. ‘You might feel safe across the road, but you’ll probably never be loved. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.’

  Astrid stood to leave. Apart from breaking into the foster home to search Katie’s room, she’d done all she could. A nagging hunch at the back of her head told her there must be a connection between Alex and Katie, but she couldn’t see what it was. She looked at Polly, and then Grace, wondering if her interference would make things better or worse for them.

  ‘I know where Katie used to hang out,’ Polly said.

  Astrid and Grace glanced at each other.

  ‘Where was that?’ Astrid said.

  The kid finished the last bit of syrup from the plate and licked her lips. ‘All us misfits hang out at the Valhalla.’

  Graces eyes and mouth widened at the same time. ‘The bar on the river? You’re too young to go there.’

  Polly’s laugh was like water springing from a burst pipe, rising from her chest as she sprayed bits of pancake all over the floor.

  ‘Don’t worry, Grandma; the kids don’t booze there. We only go for the music or the company.’

  Astrid flicked a stray piece of food from her leg. ‘Is there a band on tonight?’

  ‘Only the best,’ the kid replied. ‘A group of angry girls called Riversludge. They’ll be on stage at nine.’ She gazed at Grace. ‘They’re far too noisy for those with delicate ears.’

  Astrid smiled. ‘Will you be there?’

  Polly cleaned away the last bits of the food from her plate. ‘I never miss their shows.’

  Grace nodded to the care home across the road. ‘And they allow you to stay out so late?’

  The kid stood, pushed past the tall woman and shook her head, studying Astrid as she went.

  ‘And you want me to live with her? She won’t last a month with me.’ The door rattled behind her.

  Astrid turned to see Grace staring daggers at her.

  ‘So what do you say, partner? You’ll need someone to look after you once I’ve left town, and the kid seems the perfect candidate for that.’

  She waited for the rant to start.

  14 A Forest

  The temperature increased inside the car as they drove to Manny’s place. Grace glared at Astrid in the mirror.

  ‘Why would you tell her that? What makes you think I want to foster anyone? What gives you the right? I’ve only known you for two days, and you do this? You’re giving the girl false hope.’

  Her face smouldered like the surface of Venus, her eyes darting from the road, and then to Astrid. They bounced through the woods and towards Senator Brady’s youth centre before Grace took a sharp turn away from it, cutting onto a path that didn’t do Astrid’s back any good.

  ‘Pull over,’ she shouted as Grace’s irritation transferred to her driving.

  She scowled at Astrid before stopping. The wheels skidded through the dirt and grass, braking inches from a huge tree; only the seatbelt prevented Astrid from thumping into the front of the vehicle. It cut into her ribs, and she grimaced. She undid it and turned to speak to Grace, but the tall woman was out of the car in a flash, slamming the door behind her. Astrid was more circumspect, slipping from the seat and doing her best to avoid the mud on the ground.

  ‘Did you do this so you could manipulate the kid?’ Steam slipped out of Grace’s ears. ‘How is she going to feel, you getting her hopes up, and then letting her down?’

  Astrid waited for her to calm down. Branches crunched underfoot as she moved towards her, scaring squirrels across the woodland floor.

  ‘How far away is the well?’

  Grace scrunched up her eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘The well you fell into; is it near here?’

  ‘If we walk to Manny’s, we’ll go past it. Why?’

  ‘Have you been back since the incident?’ She was being hard on Grace, with this and the girl; she knew it, but she also accepted it needed broaching sooner rather than later. When Grace mentioned what had happened in her childhood, Astrid recognised her repressed emotions. ‘Can you show me where it is?’

  ‘I’ll take you there.’

  They marched through the trees for about half a mile, the river rumbling somewhere in the distance, until Astrid saw the danger sign up ahead.

  ‘They never sealed it?’

  ‘I don’t think they can. It connects to the town’s water supply.’ The anger had drifted out of Grace, the fear only noticeable by the tremble at the edge of her mouth. ‘What are you going to do about Polly? You’ve made her a promise you can’t keep.’<
br />
  Astrid took a deep breath, ready to give the speech she’d prepared on the bumpy journey into the forest.

  ‘You told me you wanted to have a family, Grace, but you didn’t have the time, or your job was too dangerous, or you didn’t think you’d find the right person to be a parent with. You don’t have to worry about any of those things; you’ve got a ready-made teenager to try out for a few weeks. There’s no need for maternity leave or the messy business of getting pregnant, shuffling around for nine months, and then changing nappies. You can have two weeks, four at the most, to test out motherhood. If you don’t like it, then at least you tried, and you’ll know either way.’

  Grace stared at her, eyes as big as the moon, mouth as wide as the ocean. ‘Looking after a kid isn’t like picking clothes from a shop. You can’t treat the girl as if she’s a commodity or a puppy you get for Christmas. And you can’t use me as some kind of parenting experiment because of what went wrong in your life.’

  Astrid let Grace’s frustration wash over her. ‘This isn’t about me. Maybe I made a mistake and took you for granted, but perhaps this isn’t about you either. That girl calling herself Polly needs some guidance and affection, and I think you’d be great for that.’

  ‘You’re unbelievable, do you know that? Even if what you said is true, and I’m not saying it is, why this kid? Why not any of the others desperate for a foster home?’

  Astrid shrugged. ‘She was there, in the right place at the right time, and why not her? Someone has to teach you what good music is.’ She didn’t wait for Grace’s protestations, strode past her, ignored the warning sign, and leant over the top of the well. An aroma of dirty water and fresh mud rushed up from the bottom. ‘What’s the likelihood Alex might be down there?’

  Grace grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. ‘This isn’t a game.’

  ‘What do you think happened to Katie Spencer?’

  Grace let go of her. ‘She fell into the river and banged her head. It was an accident.’