Authors: Tim Weaver
'I've
got the day off.'
'It's
not marked on the board.'
'I
told Moira.'
'It's
not marked on the board,' Phillips said again.
'So
I'll mark it up tomorrow.'
A
pause. Healy glanced at me.
'You
got any idea where David Raker is?' Phillips asked.
'Who?'
'David
Raker.'
Healy
paused again, looked out through the windscreen to where Drayton was still in
the same position at the counter.
'Raker?'
he said. 'He's the guy you brought in, right?' 'Right.'
'Why
would I know where he is?'
'Davidson
says he found you and Raker alone yesterday.'
'So?'
'So
why were you alone with him?'
'Because
Davidson had left him, and I didn't think it would look good if one of our best
leads in the Carver case wandered out of the station, never to be seen again.'
You
don't have any cases of your own?' Phillips asked.
'Listen—'
'No,
you
listen,' Phillips fired back. 'I don't know what the hell you think you're
doing, but whatever it is it's against the law, understand?'
Healy
didn't respond.
'You
know, there's a reason you're not part of this task force, or any other task
force for that matter. And it's because you can't be trusted. You're a liar,
Healy.'
'What
did you say?'
'You
heard what I said. We tried getting hold of Raker and his mobile's off. Been
off all day. We went round to his house, and it looks like a mausoleum. So we
go round to your place because, you know, it's supposed to be your
day off -
and guess what?'
'I'm
out with my wife.'
'Bullshit,
Healy. I know you're with Raker.'
'I'm
out with my wife.'
'Raker's
playing you. He's playing everyone. He sent us on a wild goose chase down to that
youth club today, and guess what we found?'
Healy
didn't reply.
'Fuck
all. Nothing. Just like the last time.'
Healy
glanced at me again and slowly shook his head.
We're in trouble.
His
eyes moved to Drayton for a second time.
'I
don't know where Raker is,' he said finally.
Phillips
blew air down the phone, the line distorting. 'You just finished your career —
you
do
understand that, right?'
Healy
didn't reply.
'Right?
Phillips said a second time. He got no response. 'You trust Raker above the
people in this station? Above the people you've closed cases with, who stood by
you and worked for free, when Leanne went missing?'
I
watched him wince at the mention of his daughter's name. His cheeks started to
flush, filling up like blood soaking through cotton.
'You
didn't do anything for me. She's not even on your radar.'
'We
tried to help you find -'
'Don't
tell me you tried to help me find her!' Healy erupted, eyes burning now. 'The people
who helped me, most of them weren't yours. You and Hart — you didn't give a
shit about her. You didn't give me anyone.
No one.'
'Leanne
can't officially be linked —'
'Don't
tell me that she can't be linked to this, you fucking prick!' he screamed down
the line. That piece of shit Glass took my daughter. And you know what I'm
going to do now? I'm going to find him — and I'm going to kill him.'
'Healy,'
Phillips said slowly. You will go to jail.'
'I
don't give a shit.'
Healy
glanced at me. Then his eyes moved across the road to Drayton again, and he
nodded to the office door.
We're going in now.
I
placed a hand on the door, opened it.
'You're
in deep shit, Healy,' Phillips said. '
Deep
shit. And so is your
partner-in-crime there next to you, wherever the hell it is you're hiding. But
let me tell you this now, so we're all crystal clear: we're on to you. You get
me? We've picked up your trail.' Phillips paused. 'And when we get to you,
you're both going down.'
We
marched across the road towards the office, Healy in front. His face was
flushed and burning with anger, his fists opening and closing, ready to push
aside, pull apart and tear into pieces. 'Healy,' I said to him, trying to keep
my voice level, trying to clear the fog that was forming inside his head. 'Wait
a second.'
But
he didn't. He stepped up to the office door and shoved it open. It swung back
so hard it hit the adjacent wall, the pane of glass clattering inside its
panel. From the counter, Drayton looked up, eyes widening. He backed away from
the desk.
'What
are you doing —'
Healy
grabbed the back of Drayton's head and yanked him forward, smashing him down on
to the counter. The side of his face made a slapping sound as his cheek hit the
vinyl. He cried out in pain. Healy leaned into his ear. 'What's under the
trapdoor?'
'What?'
Drayton said, his words muffled by Healy's hand.
'You
better tell me what's in there.'
Drayton's
eyes darted between us.
'Healy,'
I said again.
He
glanced at me. '
What?'
'Calm
down.'
'Shut
the fuck up,' he spat, and pulled Drayton towards him, dragging his small frame
up and over the counter. Drayton hit the floor face-first, crying out, and then
rolled up into a heap on the carpet as if expecting punches to rain down on
him. When they didn't, he looked up at us, blood running down one of his cheeks.
Healy
reached down, yanked him to his feet and pulled him in so they were nose to
nose. 'Open the trapdoor.'
'What
are you talk—'
'Open
the trapdoor
now.'
Drayton
glanced between us. I backed up towards the office door and looked out. The road
was dark and quiet; only the sound of rain on the metal roof. When I turned
back, Healy had swivelled Drayton around and had a hand locked in place at the
back of his neck. He guided him out of the office and along the front of the
warehouse to the delivery doors. They were padlocked.
'Unlock
them.'
'There's
nothing —'
Healy
pushed forward and Drayton's face hit the metal door. The noise passed across
the building like a ripple.
'I'm
telling you,' Drayton said, his voice wavering. 'Please. I'm telling you -
there's nothing in there.'
'Open
it, and we'll see.'
Drayton
fumbled in his pockets and brought out a ring of keys. He selected a brass one
with a red mark on the side and slid it into the padlock. It clicked. Healy
reached around him, pulled the padlock out from the metal plate and tossed it
into the street. Then he yanked open one of the doors and pushed Drayton
inside. The warehouse was completely dark except for one faint rectangle of
orange street light filtering in from a window above us.
'Where
are the lights?'
'There,'
Drayton nodded.
He
was looking at a panel of white switches to my left. I flicked them all on.
Strip lights buzzed in the darkness, then stark white light fed along the
ceiling.
The
rear door was the same size as the delivery entrance at the front. Drayton
unlocked the padlock with a second brass key, also marked red. Then Healy used
him as a battering ram, forcing him forward into the door until it opened
enough to let them through. Out in the yard, four security lights flicked on
simultaneously, shining down from poles built into the fencing. In their glow,
rain sheeted past us.
Healy
glanced at me and jabbed his head towards the pile. 'Show him.'
I
looked between him and Drayton, then walked around to the spot I'd glimpsed
earlier and pushed aside a couple of the bigger containers. Beneath one, the
edge of the trapdoor emerged.
'What's
that?' Healy said to Drayton, pushing at his neck.
'It's
for storage.'
'No
shit.'
I
moved some of the other boxes. A minute later, I'd cleared a space. A circle,
cut into the floor and about two feet across, was freeze-framed in the security
lights. It looked like a manhole cover. There was a handle cut into it and a
lock attached. I dropped down, slid my fingers in and pulled. It didn't budge.
I
glanced up at Drayton. 'Which key unlocks it?'
No
reply.
Healy
forced Drayton forward, so he was almost standing over the manhole. 'Which key
is it?' he said through gritted teeth.
Drayton
threw the key ring over. It landed in a puddle on the floor next to me. 'It's
the small silver one, marked with a blue dot.'
I
selected the key and slid it into the lock on the manhole cover. It clicked.
Sliding my fingers around the handle again, I pulled it out from its surrounds.
The
space dropped down less than a foot.
And
the only thing inside was a piece of A4 paper, folded in half.
The
rain started getting heavier, hitting the corrugated iron of the warehouse. I
took out the piece of paper, slid it inside my jacket and nodded to Healy that
we should go back inside. He pushed Drayton ahead of him, and we re-entered the
building.
I
opened up the piece of paper.
'What
is it?' Healy asked.
It
looked like a map of a street. We both recognized the style immediately: black
marker pen; just lines. No street names. No places. No identifying marks. It
was the same style as the map of the school I'd found on the LCT website. This
one was a single straight road, with houses—drawn as identically sized squares
- either side. Halfway down, one of the houses was coloured in red. A line came
out of it to a number twenty-nine. Apart from that, there was nothing else on
it.
I
glanced at Drayton. 'Who gave you this?'
He just
stared at me.
'Who
gave you the map?' Healy said.
Again,
Drayton didn't reply. Healy squeezed his fingers tighter around Drayton's neck.
'You tell us who gave you this map, and you tell us what it's of, or I swear to
you the next time you wake up it'll be with your balls in your mouth.'
Drayton's
eyes fixed on me. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something.
Then he stopped, glanced as best he could at Healy and shrugged.
Healy
smashed a fist into the side of his head. The impact sounded dull, like a wet
flannel hitting a wall. Drayton didn't make much noise; just collapsed on to
all fours, and then rolled on to his back. He looked up at Healy, blood leaking
from his nose.
'Healy.'
He
turned to me.'
What?
I
stepped forward, closer to him.
Calm down.
He saw my expression, and
then glanced at my feet, as if I'd just stepped into his personal space. He
took off his jacket and threw it on top of the nearest box. 'Who gave you the
map?'
No
reply.
'
Who
gave you the fucking map
?'
Drayton
glanced between us, but remained quiet.
Healy
blew out some air. You're one stupid piece of shit, you know that?'
'Drayton,'
I said, trying to rein Healy in. 'This is easy. Tell us who gave you the map,
and then we walk out of here and you never see us again.'