They had said she was their only child. They had not mentioned India at all yesterday, as if she was a great unknown that they were too scared to define yet. As if their minds were roiling and they did not like the thoughts that had come into them.
Ronald and Alicia Garrett arrive at Agency Headquarters at mid-morning. They sit side by side in the interview room, close but not touching. Not holding each other’s hand for comfort. Their eyes take in the bare walls and the large opaque window behind which is another room where DI Zael and his sergeant are watching unseen. They sense they are being watched and it makes them uncomfortable, as if they are suspects.
Had Zael not insisted on watching, Storm would have held the interview in his office.
“Sorry about the room,” Storm says.
“It’s okay,” says Ronald Garrett.
Leo arrives with the teas that the Garretts had requested when Storm offered. In proper mugs, to give them something comforting and hot to clutch at. They accept them as if they are lifelines.
“Any news?” Mr Garrett asks Leo, as if something will have changed in the ten minutes since he had last asked Storm. His eyes search Leo’s face, as if looking for any bad news that Leo might be keeping from them.
Leo shakes his head.
Whether they know it or not, their concern for India is showing. Storm takes note. It means they do not think she is capable of hurting Rachel.
Storm knows there is often a gulf between what parents believe about their kids and the truth.
Mr Garrett is rubbing his left thumb over and over with his index finger, hard and insistent. He seems unaware that he is doing it. Storm knows that this convulsive motion is the man’s way of keeping his tears at bay. He seems to not want to cry in front of his wife, whose bloodshot eyes with their dark circles seem to distress him every time he looks at them. Mr Garrett, with his full head of silver hair, appears a couple of decades older than his dark-haired wife. Storm can see he has been the stronger figure for much of his life. He doesn't seem to know how to stop.
“She’s a good girl,” says Mr Garrett. “She’s all we have left. You have to find her.”
“Please,” adds Mrs Garrett, as if she has some hope that pleading will change the results of the search. Her voice is tremulous.
She looks like an older version of Rachel, her black hair cut in a bob unlike Rachel’s long tumbling locks. Grief has left her haggard. She seems to have accepted the inevitability that the chances of finding India alive after four days is slim. By now India will have bled out if any severe injuries had been left unattended. By now she will have perished from dehydration if she had been left without water.
“We can help,” says Mr Garrett. “We’ve come prepared to join the search after this.”
Mrs Garrett does not contradict him, but she shakes her head as if the possibility that she herself might discover India’s dead body is too much for her to bear.
“The search is already underway,” Storm says gently. “We have experienced staff leading the way and volunteers who know the area.”
He leaves it unsaid that the Garretts’ desperation is unlikely to aid the search party’s efforts, and that their unfamiliarity with the local area will only tie up the volunteers who end up having to babysit them.
Mr Garrett seems to understand this. Even so he says, “I have to do something.”
“You are doing something,” Storm reassures him. “The information you give us today will be invaluable in helping us understand what was going on in Rachel and India’s lives. It could help us find India. It could help us catch who did this.”
“But I don’t understand why you haven’t found her yet,” pleads Mrs Garrett. “You have magic. Shouldn’t you have found her by now? I heard blood magic can be used to locate people anywhere in the country!”
“It’s not so simple,” says Storm. “There are severe restrictions on the uses of blood magic. Its use is highly contentious, and due to a case currently being tried in the High Court there is an injunction preventing us from being able to use it to locate a person in any circumstances.”
“But her life is in danger!” Mr Garrett says urgently. “Can’t they make an exception for this?”
“I’m afraid our hands are tied. But we do have a mage amongst those who are searching for her.”
“And a psychic?” says Mr Garrett, as if seeking reassurance. “We heard you have a psychic too?”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you think it was the Wolf-Claw Killer?” says Mrs Garrett in a strangled voice, tears now running unchecked down her cheeks. “It’s what the papers are saying. When we saw the news we felt so far away. Unable to protect them. We told the girls to be careful, but young people will be young people. They insisted on going out to celebrate Rachel’s birthday. They were so excited about being in London. They said it would be fine, that they’d stay with their friends. I thought Rachel would be safe because she’s not blond.” Her voice breaks with despair.
“We’re working to find out who did this,” says Storm.
“I should have insisted they not go out,” says Mrs Garrett. “I should have insisted.”
Mr Garrett pats Mrs Garrett’s hand and then quickly releases it, as if afraid she might pull away.
“But it’s not likely to be the Wolf-Claw, is it?” he demands. “You said our girl was stabbed. Not savaged by a werewolf.”
Storm nods noncommittedly. He does not add to the speculation. “Can you tell us who the girls were going out with that night? Do you know the names of their friends?”
“Charlie,” says Mrs Garrett. “India’s new boyfriend. Two months she’s being seeing him. Him and his friends. I don’t know their names. And Rachel said a couple of girls from her work might come too.”
“And was it a planned decision to go out, or last minute?”
“Planned,” she says. “They mentioned it a week ago. India insisted that Rachel had to go out to celebrate. They couldn’t have a party at their place. It was too small. She said it would be a bar crawl. That Charlie and his mates knew all the best pubs in the city. The boys work in the city.”
“And what was the relationship like between the girls?”
“Good,” says Mr Garrett. “They were so different but they always got along with each other. Rachel was glad to have a foster sister.”
Mrs Garrett shoots him a look from beneath her lowered eyelashes. “There were some spats when they were young,” she says softly but insistently. “They were so different. Rachel wanted to read her books, but India wanted to go out and play. She’d make Rachel go out.”
“That was just teething problems,” says Mr Garrett. “The girls were twelve when India came to us. It’s a difficult age.”
“India was more mature than Rachel,” says Mrs Garrett. “She was always pushing the boundaries.”
“Was India born a werewolf?” Leo asks.
Mr Garrett shakes his head. “It happened a few months after she came to us. The girls were out playing. Our town is safe. So much beautiful countryside. Everyone knows each other. We don’t have any otherkind out there. A vagrant werewolf did it. They never caught him. We were sure she was going to die. But India made it. She was strong.”
“And you decided to keep her after that?”
“Yes,” says Mr Garrett. “We wanted her to have continuity. It’s important for foster children. The attack happened when she was with us. We had to look after her. No other human family would have taken her in after that.”
“What did her biological parents want?” Storm asks.
“That mother of hers was useless,” Mr Garrett says. “Bless her soul. She’s dead now. She’d resorted to selling herself. She never said who India’s father was. We assumed a customer.”
“India could have gone to another werewolf family,” says Mrs Garrett tremulously. “We thought about whether that might be better for her. But there were none anywhere near us. And you hear about all kinds of abuse. And she w
as scared. She was just a little girl. I wouldn’t have sent my Rachel away, so how could I have sent India away?”
“People didn’t like it,” says Mr Garrett. “They said she might hurt our Rachel or the other kids in town. But we said she had saved our Rachel from the attack. She got in that werewolf’s way so that Rachel could run for help. Imagine being that brave at twelve years old.”
“How did she adjust to the change?” says Leo.
“With her usual bravery. The foster service provided us with all the information we needed. Where to get the equipment she needed, and the wolfsbane potion. She hated the cage at first, and we hated leaving her in the basement every full moon, but she knew it was necessary. She did really well. She learned to control her changes quickly. She learned how to be docile when it happened. She was brave.”
“She had to be,” says Mrs Garrett. “The town hated her after that. There was no way of keeping it quiet. It had been all over the local paper when it happened so everyone knew. Even if she tried to be good, there was no appeasing them. She’d just be acting out like a normal teen, but they said it was because she was a werewolf. It was hard for her.”
“India’s foster records say that she experienced some juvenile delinquency issues,” says Storm. “Can you tell us about that?”
“It was just the usual thing,” says Mr Garrett. “If the whole town is going to be against you, it isn’t surprising a teen girl would lash out. She fell in with a bad bunch in High School. She just wanted to fit in. It was them mainly who caused the trouble, but everyone was happy to blame our India. Graffiti. Some shoplifting. Once the boys stole a car and India went along with them.”
“She wanted the thrill,” says Mrs Garrett. “She always had that in her. Not like our Rachel.”
“But that was behind her,” Mr Garrett insists. “She grew out of it.”
“I see that she began a couple of university degrees but didn’t finish them,” says Storm. “And wasn’t currently employed?”
“She found it difficult to settle,” says Mr Garrett. “She hadn’t decided yet what she wanted to do in her life. And what has that got to do with anything? You must understand what it’s like to be different. You work for this Agency of Otherkind Investigations. That Detective Zael told us otherkind work here. You must know them. Succubae, goblins, werewolves?” He looks at Storm and Leo searchingly.
Storm only nods. He doesn’t reveal that he is half angelus. That Leo is a werewolf. In his experience, for the humans he had interacted with in cases this has often been more distressing than reassuring.
“Was India happy to come to London?” says Storm. “Was it her idea?”
Mrs Garrett shakes her head. “It was our Rachel who got a job here. She was so proud.”
“And we were glad India wanted to go with her,” says Mr Garrett. “We didn't want Rachel to be alone in the big city.”
Mrs Garrett shoots her husband the most fleeting of defiant looks. “We did worry a little that India might pull Rachel into trouble down here. It seemed to be in her nature. She couldn’t help it.”
“Not werewolf nature, you understand,” says Mr Garrett quickly. “She’s a fun loving girl, our India. She didn’t like to sit at home.”
“Did any of their other friends or acquaintances from home come down to London too?”
“No, they mostly had each other for company. They’d have said if anyone visited.”
“Do you know who their friends in London are?”
“Rachel was too busy with work for friends. And India was too busy with Charlie. They mostly spent time with Charlie’s friends if they went out.”
“We have to ask this,” says Leo. “Was there any friction between the girls recently?”
“That Detective Zael is wrong,” says Mr Garrett, his voice finally getting a little heated. “India loves Rachel. Loved Rachel. India would never have done this. Never. She just couldn’t.”
But there is a desperation in his tone that says he is trying to convince himself of this as much as convince them. He is scared. He is beginning to worry that the girl he raised as a daughter may have killed his biological daughter.
Storm is aware that the questions he and Leo must ask will inevitably sow seeds of doubt in their minds that will taint the Garretts’ relationship with India if she is found, with each other, and with their family and friends. Even now the Garretts must be heartbroken that when they go home they will see I-told-you-so in the eyes of people they regard as friends.
“Were there any arguments?” Leo persists.
“No,” says Mr Garrett shortly.
“Yes,” says Mrs Garrett. “Rachel didn't like India’s new boyfriend. She thought they were moving too fast. She said he was a city slicker. She didn’t trust him.”
“And India didn’t like that?” says Storm.
Mrs Garrett nods. “India thought that Rachel was jealous. But she wasn’t. India’s had boyfriends before. Rachel was never jealous.”
“This was different,” says Mr Garrett. “The others were layabouts and good-for-nothings. Charlie works in banking or consultancy or something, India said. He’s going places. He was handsome. India worried that Rachel didn't like that. He’s posh, you know, good family, wealthy background. Not the kind of boys we have back home. She thought Rachel resented her, a werewolf, for getting such a good catch.”
“But it was all in India’s head,” protests Mrs Garrett. “Rachel wasn’t jealous.”
“Was Rachel seeing anyone?” says Leo.
Mrs Garrett shakes her head. “No. But she’s such a beauty, my Rachel. She had so many admirers. She could have had anyone. But she wanted to build her career first. She was always too busy for boys.”
“Their apartment is in Notting Hill,” Storm notes. “Did you help them pay the rent?”
“Oh no,” says Mr Garrett. “Rachel paid for that all by herself. She was so proud of making her own way. Always a high flyer.”
“And India?”
“She was supposed to get a job but she couldn't find anything to suit her,” says Mrs Garrett. “Rachel was worried about it. She said Charlie helped India out a little, but she didn’t approve of India relying on him that way. She said they’d only known each other five minutes. It wasn’t healthy.”
“Has India had boyfriend trouble in the past?” Leo asks. “Any violence?”
“She’s had her pick of them. Every one worse than the last,” says Mrs Garrett. “That’s why she was so happy to catch Charlie.”
“Did you ever meet Charlie?” Storm asks. “Or speak to him on the phone?”
“Never. They’d not been seeing each other long. India was protective of him.”
“Secretive?” asks Storm.
“Yes,” says Mrs Garrett..
“No,” says Mr Garrett at the same time.
“Women who date violent men often repeat the pattern subconsciously,” Storm observes. “Is it possible that Charlie could have been violent even if India never mentioned it?”
“Maybe,” says Mrs Garrett, looking stricken. “India wouldn't have wanted to admit that to us. Maybe that’s why Rachel didn't trust him.”
Chapter 7
DIANA
I am not sure whether I like Shoreditch or not. The area is a concrete jungle. A hive of industrial complexes and entertainment enterprises. Cafés and nightclubs and bars and banks and offices all crammed together. And homes too. Tightly packed communities in cramped old apartment complexes or flashy high rise new builds.
Everything is here. Something for the poor and even more for the rich. The graffiti here is trendy. Considered artwork, it is allowed to stay and doesn't vanish overnight.
I like its energy. I like the hodge podge mix of people, everyone minding their own business and not looking twice at the others, no matter how different they are. City slickers and hipsters and headscarf wearing grandmas. I don’t like the lack of greenery though. There are no parks and open spaces, unlike leafy Notting Hill where I li
ve. Where India and Rachel had chosen to live.
Remi has organized the search like a military operation. Every abandoned building and warehouse is on her list. Every team has been split up with a mix of experienced and inexperienced searchers.
Printed instructions have been given out to ensure every parking space and alleyway and fenced off garden is checked. The back of the sheet contains the names and phone numbers of key Agency and police contacts, just in case someone finds something relevant. Remi had ticked off the ground already covered yesterday and assigned everyone new properties to cover today.
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