Harlan told his
ex-partner about Neil’s debt.
“Interesting.”
“I’d say it’s more than
interesting.”
“Where’s Price now?”
“In my car.” When
Harlan’s reply elicited a hiss of displeasure, he added, “And before you start
getting shitty with me, I’m not forcing him to be there, he approached me to
talk.”
“And what’s he told
you?”
“Nothing much I didn’t
already know. He claims he lied because he was afraid Susan would leave him.”
“That’s most probably
true.”
Harlan’s eyebrows came
together in a frown. “What makes you say that? Come on, Jim, out with it. What
the hell’s going on?”
“First things first.
Where are you?” When Harlan told him, Jim said, “Stay there. I’ll send someone
to pick Price up.”
“Why can’t you come
yourself?”
“Because I’m in
Manchester.”
Harlan recalled that
the police had been searching for connections between Ethan’s abduction and a
boy who’d gone missing in Prestwich. What was his name? Jamie Sutton. Yes, that
was it. He’d gone out riding his bike and never come home. “You’ve found the Sutton
boy.”
“No. Another boy’s been
abducted just a few miles from where Jamie Sutton went missing. His name’s Jack
Holland, and he’s seven-years old.”
“Jesus. What happened?”
As though the words
were heavy weights that had to be hauled out of him from a great depth, Jim
said, “Jack and his fourteen-year old brother, Mark, were at some shops near
their home. Mark went into one, leaving Jack playing on his scooter outside.
When Mark left the shop approximately five minutes later, the scooter was still
there but Jack wasn’t. Mark saw a white transit van driving fast away from the
shops.”
“Did he get the reg?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else see
anything?”
“If they did, we
haven’t talked to them yet.”
“So you don’t know for
sure that the kid was abducted. He could’ve just wandered off.”
“He could have, but I don’t
think he did. I think he was abducted. I’ll go even further than that and say
that I think he was abducted by the same person who took Ethan Reed.”
Harlan puffed his
cheeks. “That’s a pretty big assumption to make based on what you’ve told me.”
“If it was based on
that alone, yes, it would be. But there’s something I haven’t told you yet.
Something about Jack Holland. Actually, maybe it’d be better if I just show
you.”
“What do you mean, show
me?”
“I’m sending you a
picture of Jack Holland.”
Harlan’s phone beeped
as the picture came through. When he saw it, his mouth fell open. Jack Holland
had the same pale, delicate features, the same faraway blue eyes, even the same
wavy, straw-blond hair as Ethan Reed. There were differences between the boys –
Jack had a dark mole on his left cheek, and his face was perhaps a shade
chubbier. But at a glance they could’ve been mistaken for identical twins. “Are
they related? Jack and Ethan, I mean.”
“No.”
“So…so…” Harlan trailed
off as his mind scrambled to make sense of all the possible implications of
what he was seeing.
“So either this just a
monumental coincidence or someone out there has very specific tastes.”
“There’s no such thing
as coincidence.”
Jim grunted in
agreement. “Now you understand why I think Price is more than likely telling
the truth. This isn’t about money. This guy, whoever he is, is a predatory
sexual deviant of the worst kind. And, as you know, scumbags like that usually
operate alone.”
“Usually, but there’s a
chance this one doesn’t, right? I mean, Jamie Sutton was a good few years older
than Ethan and Jack. So either this perverted fuck goes for older boys as well,
or he’s got a partner with different tastes.”
“That’s a possibility,
assuming Ethan and Jack’s cases are connected to Jamie’s, which we’re not
convinced they are. But even if they are, it doesn’t put Price in the frame. In
fact, I’d say it does the opposite. Think about it. Assuming Price does have a
taste for boys like Jamie Sutton, how come he’s never tried anything on with
Kane Reed?”
“Maybe he has.”
“If that were true, do
you really think Kane wouldn’t have spilled to us by now?”
No, Harlan didn’t think
so. He glanced into the car. Susan was staring at him as if trying to read his
lips. Neil’s head hung forward, eyes closed. He could’ve been mistaken for a
corpse. Just one more casualty in the trail of desolation that lay in the wake
of all such crimes. Harlan heaved a sigh. “So who are you sending for Price?”
“Don’t worry. It’s
someone you can trust not to tell Garrett about your involvement. Listen,
Harlan, I can’t talk anymore now. Things are pretty hectic here. I’ll call you
if there are any new developments.”
“Good luck.”
Harlan hung up. He
stared at the photo of Jack Holland a moment longer. Then, with a sick and weary
look in his eyes, he got back into the car. “Who was that?” Susan asked
anxiously.
“A friend. A policeman.
There’s been a development.”
“I knew it! I knew
something was going on.” Susan’s voice grew hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she
wanted to know the answer to her question. “Have they found Ethan?”
“No. There’s been
another abduction.” Harlan showed Susan the photo. She sucked in her breath,
putting a trembling hand to her mouth as he briefly filled her in on the
details.
Neil craned his neck to
see the phone’s screen. His eyes widened, horrified, yet with a spark of wild
hope mixed in. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see, Susie? This proves none of this
has got anything to do with me.” He turned to Harlan. “Tell her. Tell her I’m
right.”
“It’s hard to say what
this proves right now.”
“But if this sicko’s
snatching other kids, then–”
“Shut up, Neil,” broke
in Susan, glaring at him as though she might slap him again. Transferring her
gaze to Harlan, she asked in a quiet, almost tender voice, “Do you think your
friend could get a message to Jack’s parents? Just to let them know they’re not
alone. That I know what they’re going through.”
“I’ll ask him.”
Dropping her eyes back
down to the photo, Susan reached to gently stroke her fingers over Jack’s face.
“God, he’s so beautiful.” She looked away suddenly, tears spilling down her
cheeks, her face contorting into quivering scowl. Spittle flecked her lips as
she said, “It makes me want to kill, thinking about what might be happening to
him.”
They sat unspeaking in
the gathering gloom – Susan letting her tears fall silently; Neil pale, his
lips drawn into a tight line; Harlan staring at A&E, trying not to think or
feel for a while, but knowing that was impossible. A car pulled up in front of
A&E. DI Sheridan got out of it, glancing around. Harlan flashed his
headlights and she headed in his direction. “Get out,” he told Neil.
Neil shot Susan a final
pleading glance. “I meant what I said, Susie. I’m gonna make this right. You’ll
see.” When she refused to meet his eyes, heaving a breath, he got out of the
car. DI Sheridan took hold of his arm, and with a brief nod at Harlan, guided
him towards her car.
“Do you really think
Neil’s got anything to do with this?” asked Susan.
Harlan knew what she
wanted. She wanted what so many others had sought from him in the past – hope.
But as much as he hated to see her pained, imploring eyes he couldn’t give it
to her, not while there was even the slightest chance it might turn out to be
false. “I don’t know.”
“Oh Christ, I hope he doesn’t.
I let him into the kids’ lives. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if he’s
part of this.”
Harlan started the
engine. “I’ll give you a lift home.”
Susan looked at him
uncertainly, as if she wasn’t sure whether to accept a lift. Then she let out a
breath that seemed to come from her feet. “I’ve got to pick up Kane from his
friend’s house.”
“What’s the address?”
“Just drive. I’ll tell
you where to go on the way.”
Following Susan’s
directions, Harlan drove to a terraced house several streets away from her own.
She got out and rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened and Kane
stepped out. Anger festered in his sullen, simmering hazel-brown eyes like an
open wound. When he saw Harlan, his mouth twisted with bitterness. “What’s
he
doing here?”
“Giving us a lift
home,” said Susan.
Kane glared at her
incredulously. “No way am I getting in that car!”
“Please, Kane.”
“No. No fuckin’ way.”
Susan’s voice rose.
“Don’t you use that language with me.”
“You said you were
going out to talk to Neil. You lied.”
“No I didn’t. Look,
Kane, something’s happened. Something to do with–” Susan broke off, glancing
around as if afraid of being overheard. “This isn’t the place to talk about
this. Just get in the car, will you?”
Kane shook his head
furiously. “How can you have anything to do with him?”
“I don’t want to, but I
have to.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Now come
on, get in.” Susan caught Kane by the arm, dragged him towards the car and
opened the rear door. He kicked it shut, then kicked it again, denting it.
“Kane, stop that!”
Jerking away from Susan
and darting Harlan a look of violent hostility, Kane ran across the street.
“Get back here,” shouted Susan. He ignored her. She ducked her head into the
car. “Sorry about your door.”
“No need,” said Harlan.
He would’ve gladly let Kane work the car over with a baseball bat if it helped
him work off some of his rage.
“I’ll have to go after
him.” Susan started to turn away from Harlan, but hesitated. Not looking at
him, her voice barely audible, she said, “Thanks.”
Thanks
.
The word reverberated in Harlan’s mind as he watched Susan chase after Kane.
What did it mean? That she’d forgiven him? He dismissed the thought. She was
grateful for what he’d done, but that didn’t mean she’d forgiven him. There was
only one way she’d ever do that, and maybe not even then. Still, it briefly
buoyed his spirits. But then his thoughts returned to Ethan and Jack, and
everything inside him grew heavy again.
Chapter
14
Harlan drove to his
flat, stopping on the way to pick up some fast-food – his fridge had stood
empty for days. He ate mechanically, tasting nothing, lost in a fog of
exhaustion. His meal half-finished, he shuffled to bed. All he wanted to do was
sleep, but the moment he shut his eyes he saw Jack Holland’s face as if it’d
been imprinted on the underside of his eyelids. Something else Susan had said
came into his mind:
it makes me want to kill
. When Tom was alive, he’d
said a similar thing to Eve once when investigating a particularly heinous
crime. But when Tom died that part of him had been closed off. Now all he had
the capacity to feel was a kind of soul-sick sadness. But it was enough to keep
sleep away. After a couple of hours, he got up and switched on the television.
There was nothing on any of the news channels about Jack Holland’s abduction.
It wouldn’t be long before there was, though. Then the media would go into a
frenzy, pumping out fear like an overactive adrenal gland, making every man a
suspect. And maybe they’d be justified in doing so, reflected Harlan. If, as
seemed likely, Ethan and Jack’s kidnapper was the same person, it was clear
they wouldn’t stop until they were caught.
Harlan rubbed at his
temples, trying to relieve the pressure lodged behind them, but it just built
and built. He took out his phone and stared at Jack Holland’s delicate, chubby
face as if internally debating something. Suddenly, his expression tired but
set, he grabbed his shoes and coat, and hurried down to his car. Speeding along
quiet night roads, he passed through the suburbs to the edge of the city and
beyond. Following a sign marked ‘Manchester’, he turned down a slip-road to the
M1. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there. All he knew was
that he had to keep moving, keep searching.
Harlan was about twenty
miles out from Sheffield, when his phone rang. It was Jim. His weariness had
been replaced with uncharacteristic excitement. “You’re not gonna believe this,
Harlan. The kid, Jack Holland, he got away.”
Harlan’s eyes popped
wide. “Fucking hell. How?”
“We’re still getting
the full story, but from what we know it went down something like this. Jack
was grabbed from behind and thrown in the back of a white transit van. He was
gagged and blindfolded and his hands and feet were tied. After what felt like hours
to him, the van stopped and he was carried from it and put down on something
soft. He heard his kidnapper moving away. He managed to work his hands free and
remove his blindfold. He found that he was alone, lying on a mattress in a
tunnel–”