“What are you doing?” Byron asked.
“I’m going to see if he’s in there.” She crossed her arms.
“How will we search such a big area in the dark?”
Anger flashed in her eyes but after a few seconds she started the engine. They returned home in an uncomfortable silence. Byron didn’t think he’d ever spent so long in Rebecca’s company, even before…
Samuel and the girls looked at them expectantly and Byron, although sure something had happened to his nephew, felt the pressure to be positive. “I bet he’s gone to one of his mates.”
“There’s Mugisa, he spends a lot of time with him,” Samuel said.
Byron remembered the phone call. “He wouldn’t go there.”
“Why not?” His brother frowned.
“He’s right, Dad, they’ve had a row,” Cecily said, “Mugisa came round this afternoon and Philip threw him out.”
“Why would he do that? They’re so close,” Rebecca said.
Byron struggled to frame his reply, conscious of his promise to Philip. But this changed everything. “This Mugisa’s involved in what happened to Philip’s friend last night.”
“The murder? But Philip wasn’t involved!” Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.
“No, but he knows the identity of the killers.”
The second pump pulled out of the hospital car park with a full crew and the sub booked them available. Adam slumped in the back, thinking about his conversation with Julie.
“What’s happened to the two lads we got out, Sub?” Mal asked, sticking his head through the gap into the front cab.
“One’s got concussion and the other’s has a dislocated ankle, plus they’re not sure if the lad with the damaged suit has been exposed to chemicals.”
“Someone will be doing a lot of paperwork.”
“They’ve only had the new suits a few months. They’ll have to explain why they didn’t use the older ones.”
“Yeah, that will be the focus of any investigation.” Mal gave a wry smile and returned to his seat. “You had a good chat to Julie.”
“We’re still mates.”
“I’ve never stayed mates with an ex. Just doesn’t work, too much baggage to get in the way.”
Maybe he was right. Adam checked the watch on the BA board. Ten past one. He should ring Byron, explain why he’d let him down. “Sub, can I use the phone?”
“You’re not ringing your family in Hong Kong are you? Everyone over here will be asleep.”
The comment reminded him he’d not spoken to his mother for a few weeks. “Directory enquires, then a local call to Didsbury.”
“Sure, you still want the night off?”
“That’s why I need to make a call.”
Back at the station, he left Mal to change their cylinders and used the phone in the station commander’s office. After getting the number for the only Dr Mason in Didsbury, he scribbled it on a message pad. He dialled the first few numbers, then hesitated. A vision of waking up a sleeping household flashed into his mind. But a GP would be used to calls at all hours.
Samuel answered on the second ring. “Dr Mason’s residence.”
The deep voice ignited the memory of meeting a large, vigorous man who moved like an athlete. “Hello, Samuel, it’s Adam Sterling, is—”
“Byron’s friend. How are you, Adam?”
“Fine, thanks. Is Byron there?”
“He’s … out. When did he tell you he’d be here?”
“He rang from the train, told me he was worried about Philip.”
Samuel didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Philip’s gone missing. That’s where Byron is, looking for him. I hoped this call was to tell me they’d found him.”
“I’m sorry. Byron asked me to come over but I’m on nights…” A surge of guilt made his throat close up. “I’ll come round—”
“I’m not sure what you can do now. Shall I get Byron to ring you when he gets back?”
Adam ended the call. The feeling he’d let Byron down weighing heavy.
Byron held his finger on the doorbell until a light came on. An angry voice muttered, and the door opened, revealing a thick chain and, behind it, the sleep-rimed eyes of a middle-aged man.
“Mr Walcott?” Byron asked.
“Yes, what do you damn want?” He swore like a man unused to the act.
“Can I speak to Mugisa?”
The man looked puzzled for a moment. “Matthew you mean. He’s asleep. What do you want with him?”
Byron hesitated. If the boy was in bed, he couldn’t have taken Philip.
Rebecca pushed past him. “Mr Walcott, it’s Rebecca Mason, can you please check my son Philip’s not with him?”
The man gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m not disturbing my son at this time of night. Now go, before you wake the whole house, or I’ll call the police.”
The door slammed and Byron returned to the car. Rebecca stared at the door for a few seconds, but then followed him and they set off for home. Byron clung to the hope Philip was hiding out at a friend’s house. They’d left Samuel with the job of phoning them, but at this time in the morning, the calls wouldn’t be welcome.
Rebecca gripped the steering wheel like a lifebelt in a hurricane. She looked close to losing control and Byron searched for something positive to say.
“I’m sure we’ll find him. I bet Samuel already has, and he’s staying with one of his other mates.”
“He’d have rung.”
Yes, he would. “Philip mentioned places they used to hang out. It could be worth searching them.”
“What do you plan to do?” Rebecca’s voice betrayed her tension.
“I’ll have a look round in the morning.”
“I still don’t understand why we shouldn’t tell the police.”
“If we report what happened with McLaughlin, we’d spend tomorrow under the microscope being questioned and making statements. We need to be free to search for Philip.”
“But if we tell them he’s gone, the police would help search for him.”
“They won’t do anything unless he’s missing for over twenty-four hours. Let’s see what his friends say first.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind, and they continued the journey home in frosty silence. Until he knew the full extent of Philip’s involvement in his mate’s murder, Byron didn’t want to speak to the police. Experience told him that what the boy had said over the phone wasn’t necessarily the whole truth, or even part of it.
As soon as they walked through the front door Byron could tell Samuel had been unsuccessful.
Rebecca looked ready to collapse. “You spoke to all of them?” Her question held a note of desperation.
Samuel nodded. “Eventually. Three of the boys didn’t want to talk to me, but nobody’s seen him.”
“Have you got the names of the three lads?” Philip had mentioned three others but Byron didn’t recall their names.
Rebecca looked at him. “You don’t think they had anything to do with his disappearance?”
“No, but if he’s scared, he might hide with them, and they’re not going to just tell anyone who rings up he’s there.” He didn’t believe his own words but wanted Rebecca to accept it. She couldn’t take much more tonight.
“Yes, but they all know my voice,” Samuel protested.
“How can they be sure you’re not sat here with the thugs who came for him holding you at gunpoint?”
The boy’s parents greeted this with silence.
Byron realised how exhausted his brother was. “I think you should both get some sleep. It won’t do Philip much good if you’re too knackered to help when he needs you.”
An objection formed on his brother’s lips, but Samuel studied his wife and nodded. “By the way, your friend Adam rang. Apologised for not being here.”
“I’ll ring him.” Adam must have had failed to get the night off, but why wait so long to ring? Exhaustion seeped into Byron’s bone
s — he needed to get some sleep if he wanted to function tomorrow but he’d need Adam’s help to find his nephew.
A grumpy sounding stranger answered the phone and summoned Adam. Byron’s irritation grew as he waited.
“Byron. I’m really sorry—”
“Why didn’t you ring to tell me if you couldn’t you get the night off?”
“We had a bit of a nightmare, I didn’t get back from hospital until I rang your brother.” Adam sounded like he was stifling a yawn.
“You okay?” Byron regretted his tone.
“Just a check-up, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, mate. I know you’d have come if you could. Are you free tomorrow?”
“When and where do you want me?”
“Here, at my brother’s place. Can you make it for first light?”
After a moment’s silence Adam said, “Yeah, no problem. I don’t finish till nine, but I’ll get off early — as soon as someone gets in from the day crew. See you in the morning.”
Byron ended the call, the happiest he’d been since he’d arrived at his brother’s house.
The boot of the old car Mugisa forced Philip into stank of old rubber and carpet mixed with exhaust fumes. Scrunched up in the small boot, Philip’s arms and legs cramped. After an eternity, the car came to a halt and Mugisa opened the boot. Holding the machete at his side, he stepped away and gestured for Philip to get out.
Philip pulled himself up, wincing as he lowered himself to the road and stretched his aching muscles. His vision grew accustomed to the light, and he checked his surroundings. With a sense of dread he recognised the building next to them. The memory of bringing Liam there twenty-four hours earlier caused his insides to flutter.
“Why are you doing this?”
Mugisa ignored him and gestured with the machete. Philip walked towards the gate into the courtyard, shivering in his shirt and jeans as the frigid air chilled his skin. Once in the dark basement, they shuffled forward, the blade touching the back of his neck. Mugisa’s other hand gripped his shoulder, the fingers digging into his flesh like steel claws. With every step, sensation returned to his limbs. As they moved forward in the darkness, his left foot hit something. He stumbled but Mugisa stopped him from falling.
“Pick it up,” Mugisa commanded, his voice devoid of emotion.
Philip realised he’d kicked the chair they’d used for Liam. Terror made his bladder leak. He bent forward and fumbled for the chair, finding it with his hand. He gripped the sides of the chair. Mugisa shuffled his feet and moved the blade from his neck. Philip seized his chance and lifted the chair, but the handle of the machete crunched into the top of his head. Lights flashed and he lost control of his limbs, falling into a heap.
Mugisa straightened the chair and lifted Philip’s unresponsive body onto it. Seized by panic, Philip tried to resist as Mugisa wrapped tape round his torso and arms, securing them to the back of the chair and fastened his ankles to the chair legs. Feeling returned, the taste of blood first then the cold. A shocking pain radiated from the top of his head.
Mugisa spoke from behind him. “I’ll come back this evening and we will have a trial.”
Philip realised what that meant. He would get the same treatment as Liam. “Let me go and I won’t say anything about this. I know you didn’t mean to kill Liam.”
Mugisa didn’t reply.
“With your background, what you’ve been through, anyone would understand. They’ll probably let you go.”
After a long silence Mugisa spoke, his voice cold and distant. “So you’re sorry for me?”
“No, I just meant, what happened to you…” Philip tailed off, wishing he could take the words back.
Mugisa’s feet shuffled closer. Tape wound round Philip’s head, jerking it back. He gagged as the tape covered his mouth. Mugisa finished, then his footsteps receded. Philip tried to call out to him but only managed an incoherent mumble. A door scraped across the floor, then silence.
Above his laboured breathing, Philip heard the noises of the building. The walls and floors ticking and groaning as the temperature dropped further. But above that came the sounds of the rats, returning to claim their territory. Philip’s skin crawled. At least he wasn’t on the floor.
As the cold seeped into him he shivered. He should try to get free. He tested his bonds, pulling at each limb, but Mugisa had done a good job. If Asif had remembered the rope Liam wouldn’t have got cut and none of this would be happening. With a roar of frustration and rage Philip tensed his muscles.
The chair creaked and moved. Could he break it and get free? Philip rocked. There, the back leg was loose. Infused with hope he rocked again, moving the loose joint more each time, until with a crack, the chair collapsed.
He fell backwards, slamming onto the solid floor. His head bounced, landing on the wound the machete had caused. The pain paralysed him and blood dripped from the injury. Then, as sensation returned to his limbs, he realised he hadn’t freed himself. All he’d done was placed himself at the level of the rats. Ears straining, he listened for their return.
CHAPTER 10
The knife pressed into his throat, but The Boy remained impassive. The man glared for many seconds and The Boy, resigned to his fate, didn’t react. Convinced the man would kill him, he was surprised when the man’s expression changed. A huge grin split his face and he laughed before handing The Boy to a second man who grabbed his arm and dragged him out.
The second man took him to a hut where other boys and girls from his village waited. The attackers had by now overrun the village and more bodies lay between the huts. Most were old men and women, too slow to escape and others the mothers, who had fought to the death, defending their children.
Screams and moans came from several dwellings and flaming brands from a blazing hut filled the air. Other huts smouldered and smoke drifted between the remaining homes. The scene they presented would have been familiar to medieval churchgoers in Europe.
The terrified children stared at the destruction of the only world they had ever known. In shock at having witnessed the violent deaths of friends and family, and unable to take it all in, they stared in bewildered silence. Eyes, bright with excitement and joy a short while ago, became blank as their young minds shut down.
Adam studied Samuel’s house as he waited for someone to answer the doorbell. Byron’s brother must be doing well. He’d been a junior doctor last time Adam saw him but he must be a consultant by now to afford something like this. Rebecca came to the door, looking older than the last time they’d met, and she didn’t appear to have slept much.
“Hi, Rebecca, isn’t it? I’m Adam.” He thrust out his hand.
She returned his grip. “Hello.” Recognition bloomed. “Sorry, Adam, I didn’t recognise you for a second. You didn’t have…” She gestured at her nose.
“Oh, yeah. I broke it a few months after we last met.”
“Please come in.”
Byron stood behind her, a mug of coffee in one hand, and half a slice of toast in the other. Despite his obvious tiredness he grinned then shoved the toast in his mouth and placed the mug on a side table. Adam stepped towards him and they embraced.
“Good to see you, mate.” Adam broke away and prodded Byron’s torso. “Fatherhood’s put a few pounds on you. It’s not a sympathetic pregnancy?”
Byron swallowed the rest of his toast and cuffed his shoulder. “Cheeky young pup, I’d still whup you in a gym test.”
Rebecca hovered at one side, excluded from the easy camaraderie of the two men. “Do you want coffee, or breakfast?”
Adam wouldn’t have minded a bacon butty but could see Byron wanted to go. “No thanks, Rebecca, I ate at work. Ready to go, Byron?”
Byron pulled on a coat and they said their goodbyes. Once outside, he produced a list of three addresses. Adam recognised them.
At the car, Byron did a double take. “Something you want to tell me?” He gestured at the child seat in the rear of
the SUV.
Adam grinned. “Not yet, mate. I borrowed this from one of the lads. I didn’t think my TR6 would cut it.” He became serious. “Have you decided where we should go first?”
Byron pointed to an address on the list. “This one. Shall I look it up for you?” He reached for a battered street atlas in the door pocket.
“No need. I know it.” Adam passed Byron the list and started the car. Byron looked tired and Adam detected a tension behind his usual easy manner. “Do you want to fill me in?”
Byron outlined the events of the past two days, explaining what had happened and why McLaughlin had tried to snatch Philip. As his friend relayed Philip’s account of Liam’s death, Adam’s mind returned to the discovery of the young man’s body.
“I found the body.”
“What do you mean?” Byron asked.
Adam explained.
“Shit, I didn’t realise. They must have put the body in the house after Philip escaped.”
“You sure he had nothing to do with it?”
“Yeah, I believed him.”
Adam didn’t know Philip, so couldn’t comment. “So, who are we visiting?”
“These are the other three lads who were with Philip on Sunday. Samuel rang them last night, but they seemed evasive, like they were hiding something.”
“How come we’re not going to see this Mugisa? If he’s the ringleader?”
“Rebecca and I called round last night, straight after Philip went missing. Mugisa was in bed, so I want to check these three first.”
“You think one of them has Philip?” If Adam had wanted to get rid of a witness to a murder, he wouldn’t bother snatching him, and if he had, he’d make sure he silenced him soon after. He hoped he was wrong, but he guessed Byron shared the same thoughts.
“It’s a possibility. If they haven’t, we have to go to plan B.”
“Okay. So what exactly is plan A?”
“I’ll pose as a welfare officer from college, checking to make sure the death of their friend hasn’t traumatised the boys.”
“Not bad,” Adam said. “Unless, of course, the college has already sent somebody.”
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