Barry Maitiland - Spider Trap

He listened in silence,then said,‘Do you know where he lives?’

‘Kentish Town.’ She told him the address.

‘I think we’d better take a look.’

‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’

‘See you there.’

She was the first to arrive, checking that there were no lights on in the basement flat before she rang the bells of the other flats above and on each side of Tom’s. No one had seen him that day. Brock arrived and they went down into the well, knocked a pane of glass out of the front door and opened it. There was no sign of him, and they began a rapid search, quickly coming up with a string of negatives-the mail unopened,the bed unmade,breakfast plates unwashed,a message pad blank,the absence of a diary or notebook,the answering machine switched off, and no response to dialling 1471 for the number of the last caller. There was no indication that anyone else had been in the flat recently. Then Kathy found the laptop.

She switched it on and checked his email, nothing but junk for two days. Then she tried Recent Applications, and found that the photo album was top of the list. She opened it, then called Brock over. The most recent picture had been taken at one thirty-five p.m. that day, of a smartly dressed young woman hailing a cab. She had jet-black hair and a warm tan complexion.

‘Magdalen Roach,’ Brock murmured.

Kathy clicked back through the album, pictures of Magdalen coming out of the office where she worked, in a bus queue, stepping out of her aunt’s red BMW.

‘He’s been stalking her,’ Kathy said. She felt shocked, catching sight of something private and obsessive, and also sad. It was as if she were being allowed a glimpse into the depth of Tom’s anger and despair at what had been done to him.

Brock asked, ‘Do you think he wants to hurt her, pay her back?’ Kathy found she couldn’t give an answer.

Then she was staring at the next image on the screen, a stream disappearing into the mouth of a concrete tunnel set into a grassy bank.‘Oh no.’

‘What is that?’

‘I think it’s the culvert that runs under the Roach place. Tom found some information on it.’ She told him about the helicopter flight and their conversation afterwards.‘I told him it was a ridiculous idea, and he turned it into a joke.’

The picture had been taken two days earlier, the day after his mauling in the parliamentary committee meeting.

‘Surely he wouldn’t try to go back in there?’ Kathy whispered.

‘To justify himself,’ Brock said. ‘To prove he was right and everyone else was wrong. To make amends to Michael Grant. Yes, I think he would. But how is Magdalen involved?’

‘Perhaps we should ask her,’ Kathy said. She closed the photo album and opened his computer address book. Magdalen’s email address and phone numbers were listed. Kathy raised her eyebrow at Brock and he nodded. She took out her phone and tapped in the mobile number. Brock watched her listen for a moment, then quickly switch off.

‘Not there?’

‘Yes, she answered, and I think I know where she is. There was the sound of a crowd in the background, and a heavy ragga number playing.’

‘What’s ragga?’

‘Dancehall reggae. I think she’s at the JOS club.’

They heard the music from a block away. Kathy cruised slowly past the club entrance and parked on a double yellow line near the

street corner. Brock stared at the old building, thinking of a night

in April, twenty-four years before.

‘I’d better do this,’ she said.

‘What if Vexx’s in there? He knows you, doesn’t he? I’ll go.’

‘He knows us both.’

‘Then we’ll both go. Come on.’ Brock got out of the car and she followed.Clusters of people were standing around the entrance, smoking and appearing to be cooling off, sweat gleaming on their faces. They eyed them curiously as they walked up to two large men in suits and shaved heads at the door. Kathy was waved through but Brock was stopped with a hand on his chest.

‘Hey!’ Kathy laughed and slipped her arm around Brock and pressed herself against him.‘He’s mine.’

Several watchers laughed and the men gave bleak smiles and stepped back. Brock handed over some money, and they climbed stairs towards the booming sound. At the top they were plunged into a dark space vibrating with dancing lights and figures and heat. It seemed impossible to identify anyone in here, let alone talk to them. They hesitated at the edge, trying to adjust their senses, then began to make their way slowly around the edge of the writhing crowd, Kathy half a dozen paces in front of Brock. Eventually he saw her stop and turn back to him, signalling to stay where he was. He watched her approach a couple against the wall, standing very close together, holding drinks, their faces almost touching so they could talk.

They separated when Kathy reached them, and after a moment the man moved away. Brock watched the two women trying to communicate,with hand and body gestures supplementing shouted words, but this seemed to prove impossible, and they began to thread their way through the crowd towards the entrance, Brock following them down the crowded stairway. They stepped through the doors and stopped as Magdalen fumbled in her bag for a cigarette. She was swaying slightly and seemed clumsy in her movements. Kathy was talking to her and trying to guide her away towards the car. Suddenly the girl’s mood changed and she pulled away from Kathy and said something angry, flapping her hand in the air. Some of the people standing around were watching them now. Brock hurried forward and she tottered as she turned to him. He caught her arm.

‘Easy now, Magdalen,’ he murmured.

‘Who are you?’

‘He’s another friend of Tom’s,’ Kathy said.‘It’s okay.’

‘Yeah, well don’t hassle me. I just want a fag.’ She fumbled with the lighter and got it going.

One of the bouncers at the door called out, ‘You okay, Magda?’

‘Yeah.’ She waved to him.‘It’s all right, Troy.’

‘She saw Tom here last night,’ Kathy said.

‘That’s right.’ A gleam of perspiration lit Magdalen’s face beneath the streetlights as she tilted her chin and blew out smoke. ‘Look, I’m sorry about what happened to him, but he tried to use me too, right?’

Kathy nodded.

‘Yeah. He told me he’s goin’ to lose his job, is that right?’

‘Looks that way.’

‘Well, who wants a job like that anyway?’

‘Was he angry with you, last night?’

‘No, no. He was sweet, really. Just kinda sad. He said he still liked me.’

‘He does like you,’ Kathy said,‘in spite of what he had to do. He likes you a lot.’

‘Yeah?’ She shivered suddenly and clutched her arms across her chest. In the cold wind of the street her short glittery dress looked like no protection at all.

‘You’ll catch a chill,’ Kathy said.‘Let’s talk in the car,’ and before the girl could object they both steered her to the parked car and eased her in. Brock got behind the wheel and started the engine, turning up the heater.

‘Did he say why he came to the club last night?’

‘To see me, he said.’

‘Did he talk about his plans?’

‘No, I just assumed he’d be around.We talked about tonight, and I thought I might have seen him here again, but he never showed up.’

‘How do you mean you talked about tonight?’

‘Oh, about family and that. It’s St Patrick’s Day, right? The Roach family throws a big dinner-dance for all their friends. It’s traditional, year after bloody year. I hate it. I told him I’d be the only one not there.’

‘They hold this at home?’

‘No, at a hotel on the river.’

‘So there’s no one at home tonight?’