Atmosphere

by Robert Innes

  Blake groaned as he took a long swig from the beer bottle and rested his head on the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever worked on a case that fills me with such a horrible feeling with this little to go on. I just know that there’s so much more to this than a girl disappearing from a cabinet.”

  “Have you got any idea how that happened?”

  Blake took another sip from the bottle and shook his head. “In all honesty, I’ve barely even thought about it. There’s just that much else going on with this that I almost think the way she got out of that cabinet doesn’t even matter. But it must matter or why the hell do it in the first place?”

  Harrison nodded. “You know you can talk to me if it’s getting too much. I know it’s confidential and all that but you’re only human. Especially with how little sleep you’ve been getting lately, I don’t want things to get on top of you.”

  Much to Harrison’s annoyance, Tom’s words about Blake clattered briefly through his mind, but he pushed them aside and took hold of his boyfriend’s hand firmly.

  “I know,” Blake said, pulling Harrison in closer. “Trust me, I wish I could talk about it. There’s things going on here that I don’t think we’ve even scratched the surface with yet. I just have a feeling that that poor girl is in a lot of danger.”

  “You might not be able to talk about the case itself,” Harrison said, standing up and strolling to his satchel across the room. “But I saw exactly what you did at that magic show. At the very least, I can help you try and make some sense about how she vanished from the cabinet.”

  He pulled out his notepad that he had been scribbling on at work. “We were dead in the shop today and ever since I came back from helping Jacqueline sort out the village hall, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it.”

  He threw himself back down on the sofa next to Blake and opened up his notepad. Inside were a series of drawings and notes that he had made about everything he had remembered from the night of the show and what he had found when he had looked in the box with Jacqueline.

  Blake stared at the notepad for a few moments then laughed.

  “I thought you said you wanted me to have five minutes away from all this?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” said Harrison, closing the notebook. “I didn’t think.”

  “It’s fine,” Blake replied. “It’s not like I’m going to be able to shut my brain off from it anyway. Go on, show me what you think.”

  Once he was satisfied Blake was sure that he wanted more theories thrown at him, Harrison opened the book again and pointed to a drawing he had done of the cabinet hanging above the stage, but with a bird’s eye view.

  “Okay, so we’re here, in the audience. We can see everything on stage. The cabinet is suspended above us, and there’s absolutely no way she can get out without anyone seeing her.”

  “Correct,” Blake said after another sip of beer. “All angles visible.”

  “And he even made sure we could see the back of the cabinet because of that mirror hanging above the stage and behind the cabinet,” Harrison continued.

  “So, how did she get out?” Blake asked, looking hopeful that he was about to be provided with an answer.

  “Well, I’m not really sure about that,” Harrison went on. “but when I looked in the box, y’know, just for my own curiosity, I found something in the hidden compartment at the bottom.”

  “The one she’s supposed to squeeze into when the doors closed?” Blake asked.

  “Yep. It was the shoes she was wearing during the performance.”

  “Her shoes?” repeated Blake, frowning. “That could just be because she couldn’t fit into the bottom of the cabinet with them on.”

  “I know, that’s what I thought, but why leave them there?” Harrison pressed. “Surely there’s got to be some relevance.”

  Blake looked thoughtful. “Why else would she take her shoes off?”

  “Because she had to squeeze in somewhere else?”

  “She didn’t, I checked the inside and outside of that box when I walked onto the stage. She had definitely gone.”

  Blake drained the rest of the bottle and closed his eyes again. “I dunno. I can’t shake off the idea that the assistant is always in on the trick. In any magic trick, the secret happens in the bit that you can’t see. The only thing we couldn’t see was the inside of the cabinet. A box that size, there’s no way that anybody else could have done anything to get her out without her having some part to play in it.”

  “The back of the cabinet opens,” Harrison reminded him. “Now, why did they design it so that the back opens when it’s only the front that’s used for the trick? She doesn’t climb out the back, that’s not how it’s done, so what is that back door for?”

  Blake placed his empty beer bottle down on the table and leant forwards with his head in his hands looking deep in thought. Then, his head shot up.

  “Hang on,” he said slowly. “That cabinet isn’t the same one that’s usually used for the trick. You were painting a whole new cabinet because the other one didn’t make it to the performance. What if the cabinet that was supposed to be used didn’t have that back door?”

  “But what difference does that make?” Harrison asked, staring at him confused. “I’ve tried to see every angle of this and no matter how she got out, the point is everybody could see her. Unless she turned herself invisible, I don’t see how she could have got out without us seeing.”

  There were a few moments pause while Blake stared at the notepad.

  “So maybe we weren’t looking at the trick that we thought we were,” he murmured. “Maybe, it wasn’t just the audience that the vanishing assistant trick was meant to fool.”

  “You mean Sebastian?”

  “Oh, I’m positive that that the last thing Sebastian Klein wanted was for his daughter to completely vanish,” Blake said grimly. “Especially now he’s got to pay…Hang on, what’s that?”

  Harrison turned to where Blake was looking out of the window and stared in amazement.

  A crowd of people had gathered in the street outside the cottage, chatting amongst themselves and clutching what looked like cameras.

  “What the hell?” Blake muttered.

  They walked towards the front door and opened it. Immediately, the cameras sprang into life and a wall of noise hit them

  “DS Harte isn’t it? Have you got any information regarding reports of a missing girl?”

  “Is it true that she vanished in front of a crowd of people?”

  “Can you tell us what the police are doing about it?”

  “Is the girl in any danger?”

  “Can you confirm if the girl was kidnapped?”

  “Is her name Amelia Klein?”

  Blake and Harrison stood, stunned, as the flashing lights from the cameras blinded them.

  “Who the hell has told the press about this?” Blake said, looking furious.

  Harrison peered through the crowd and then saw his answer.

  Tom was standing in the doorway of Jacqueline’s cottage with his arms folded, watching the proceedings with some interest.

  “Go inside,” Harrison told Blake. “before you say something that’ll get you in trouble.”

  “Where are you going?” Blake called as Harrison stormed across the road.

  Harrison did not answer. He pushed through the journalists, ignoring the questions being thrown at him and still being blinded by the flashing of their cameras, and stood before Tom.

  “This was you, wasn’t it?” he asked sharply. “You told the press about the case, didn’t you?”

  Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise as he casually leant against the doorframe.

  “Me? All I did was answer a few questions that some woman had for me. I didn’t know she was a reporter. Honestly. That’s her, look.” He leant forwards and whispered. “The one in the vile green coat.”

  “Can I have a word please?” Harrison said, glaring a
t him.

  Tom shrugged and opened the door to the cottage. Harrison turned his head to try and see if Blake had gone indoors and then followed him inside, slamming the door behind him.

  Jacqueline was in the kitchen, peering out of the window.

  “Harrison, darling!” she said cheerfully. “What on Earth is going on out there? It’s all very exciting.”

  “Ask him,” Harrison snapped, glaring at Tom. “What the hell have you done? This could really put Blake’s case in jeopardy. Don’t you think he’s got enough stress at the moment?”

  “Don’t blame me,” Tom replied, looking at Jacqueline in confusion. “All I did was answer that woman’s questions when she asked. I didn’t know she’d bring all her mates along with her. Anyway, what harm can it really do? If Blake’s got more eyes on him then it’ll just encourage him to work harder and find that missing girl. Seems like a win-win to me.”

  Harrison stared at him in complete disbelief.

  “Jacqueline,” he murmured. “Would you mind if I just had a private word with Tom?”

  “Oh, darling, you can speak freely in front of me!” Jacqueline said, looking like she was reluctant to tear herself away from the window. “Tom and I have no secrets.”

  “It’s about Blake’s case,” Harrison replied, attempting to sound casual despite his anger. “You know what Blake gets like about case details.”

  “Mum, go on, there’s a perfectly good window in the living room,” Tom told her.

  Jacqueline tutted and then hurried out of the kitchen towards the living room’s net curtains. Once she was out of the room, Harrison closed the door sharply behind her.

  “I don’t know what your problem is, Tom,” Harrison said in a low voice. “And I have absolutely no idea why you’re trying to make Blake’s life so difficult.”

  “Oh, not this again,” Tom said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve told you, I have nothing against Blake. If anything, it’s the other way ‘round.”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Because you’re doing everything in your power to stress him out further. First you move here and then immediately try and split us up –”

  “I misread the signals, that’s all!”

  “And then you go and do this? You must know how much harder the media getting involved makes cases like the ones Blake has to deal with. Why do it? Why are you trying to make his life harder?”

  “It’s alright, Harrison,” Tom said calmly. He took a seat at the kitchen table and looked up at him. “It’s okay, I get it. I don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind what?”

  “I don’t mind you taking your frustrations out on me, that’s what friends are for.”

  “Friend?” repeated Harrison in disbelief. “What have you done to qualify as my friend exactly? What, you call that lot out there the actions of a friend?”

  “I’ve told you, I had no idea how this happened, I was just divulging in a bit of village gossip, we all do it! I just didn’t know she was a journalist.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Harrison asked him.

  “Because you’re upset, clearly. The Harrison I met who pulled me out of the way of that car wasn’t this sensitive. Are you sure everything is okay with you? You and Blake are okay?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Really?” Tom said, leaning back in his chair. “Because ‘fine,’ to me, isn’t storming into someone else’s house and throwing wild accusations around. ‘Fine’ isn’t being scared of putting any more pressure on your boyfriend in case it’s too much for him.”

  Harrison scowled at Tom as he stood up and walked towards him.

  “It’s okay, Harrison,” he said. “You forget, you’ve told me everything about you. When me and you first met, we had nights where we’d just get drunk and tell each other about ourselves.”

  “Which you probably thought were dates.”

  “No, I didn’t. And even if I did, it doesn’t make a difference. I know the type of relationship you came from Harrison. The one where you were terrified because you didn’t know how much stress your boyfriend could handle before you ended up paying the price for it.”

  “Blake is nothing like Daniel.” Harrison told him sharply. The reminder of his past, domestically violent, relationship was not one he appreciated, especially in comparison to Blake.

  “Daniel was nothing like Daniel at one stage,” Tom said, a serious expression on his face. “Remember?”

  “You don’t know anything about Blake,” Harrison replied. “Which, funnily enough, is something I can say about you. You might have told me the odd bit about yourself, but I don’t know you. Not really. Not enough that I could sit here and give you a lecture of relationships and what experiences you’ve got.”

  “You know plenty about me!”

  “Yeah? What about who you’re constantly on the phone to?” Harrison asked, and was pleased to see Tom’s expression falter. “Yeah, exactly. Not so keen to tell me who that is, are you? Who is it? A guy? You’re seeing someone?”

  “That’s got nothing to do with what we’re talking about.”

  “So, who is it then? If it’s that irrelevant?”

  Tom bit his lip, his eyes fixed on Harrison. “I can’t tell you at the moment?”

  “No, I bet you can’t,” Harrison replied. “Why not? What’s the secret?”

  “There is no secret,” Tom told him, looking far less cocky than he had a few moments before. “It’s just got nothing to do with you, that’s all. I’m a private person.”

  “Well, guess what?” Harrison said furiously. “So am I. And so is Blake. And our relationship, both the good points and the bad, have nothing to with you.”

  Suddenly, Tom’s phone which was lying on the middle of the table between them, began to ring. It vibrated furiously, edging it’s way along the table.

  For a few moments, neither of them said anything, their eyes darting between the phone and each other.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?” Harrison asked him.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Before Tom could stop him, Harrison had grabbed the phone off the table and looked at the screen. All it said was ‘F. Calling.’

  “F? Who’s F?”

  Tom quickly stood up and yanked the mobile out of Harrison’s hand.

  “I told you, none of your business. And actually, I will answer it. So, if I could have some privacy?”

  He pressed a button on the phone and put it to his ear.

  “Hold on, give me two seconds,” he told the caller. He strolled across the kitchen and opened the front door leading into the street and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  Harrison paused, trying to listen to the quiet, tinny voice that was just audible from the other end of the line.

  ‘Hello? Tom? What’s going on?’

  “Go on,” Tom said to Harrison. “Please.”

  Harrison sighed and then walked outside, but as Tom went to close the door behind him, Harrison jammed his foot in the way.

  “Just stay away from Blake,” he told him. “That’s all I ask.”

  Tom rolled his eyes again and finally manage to close the door in Harrison’s face, leaving him standing in the street.

  Behind him, the throng of reporters seemed to be slowly dispersing, but as soon as they saw Harrison, the remaining ones immediately pulled out their Dictaphones.

  “Do you know anything about Amelia Klein?”

  “Can you tell us anything about her disappearance?”

  Harrison pushed through them and quickly entered Juniper Cottage, slamming the door behind him.

  He took a deep breath and looked around him. The living room was empty, meaning Blake was upstairs.

  As he walked up the stairs, he heard the familiar sound of Blake’s snoring. He stood in the doorway to their bedroom and watched Blake, who was lying face down on top of the bed, fully clothed. Somehow, he had managed to fall as
leep.

  Leaving his boyfriend in his slumber, Harrison went back downstairs and sat down on the sofa, deciding to sleep on it to save the risk of waking Blake up from his well needed rest. As he flicked the living room lamp off, plunging himself into darkness, Harrison could not have felt more awake, his mind swimming with thoughts about Blake, Tom and what he had said, and ultimately, who Tom could be talking to whose name began with ‘F.’

  10

  “…According to reports, the young girl, Amelia Klein, vanished in the middle of a magic show, here, in the village of Harmschapel. Police have given a brief statement: ‘We can confirm we are investigating the disappearance of a female. Investigations are ongoing.’ Now, we are hearing from various sources that Amelia actually vanished in front of a large audience from a cabinet that was suspended above the stage. Whether these reports are true or not is uncertain, but what is certain is that police here in this sleepy little village certainly have a puzzle on their hands. Georgina Farrow, 24/7 news, Harmschapel.”

  The screen went blank as Inspector Angel switched off the television from across the meeting room and threw the remote down on the nearest desk.

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say that our job just got a lot harder.”

  His voice was calm but Blake could tell that he was angry. The atmosphere around the room was tense.

  “Yeah,” Blake said at last. “Safe to say we could have done without the media getting involved.”

  “Involved, DS Harte?” repeated Angel. “I think we have slightly more than the media involved. This isn’t just a case of it appearing in the local newspapers. What we have just watched is a report on the national news.”

  Blake groaned and put his head into his hands.

  “It’s everywhere,” Patil said, looking at her phone. “BBC news, Facebook, all the paper sites, there’s even a hashtag on Twitter. #VanishingGirl.”

  “It’s the sort of case that’s captured the public imagination,” Blake conceded. “People like a puzzle. What they don’t know, however, is the information we’ve discovered in the past twenty-four hours about Amelia.”