Alex Barclay - Darkhouse

‘Sure, Mrs Shanley,’ he said. ‘For Friday?’

‘Yes. You could go in after school, though. They’re not arriving ’til about ten.’ She gave him a quick hug. ‘I hope you’re OK,’ she said. ‘You poor divil.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, walking away. ‘Oh, which house is it?’

‘Fifteen,’ she said. His heart lurched.

Joe sat in the den with his PowerBook in front of him.

‘Hi,’ said Anna, sticking her head in.

‘This case is a goddamn nightmare,’ said Joe. He tapped his fingers on the keys.

‘What case?’ said Anna.

He looked away. ‘Shit. I meant Katie.’

‘Case?’

‘Sorry, you know what I’m saying. It’s just, you know, not being in the loop—’

‘I don’t like where you’re going.’

‘Look, I’m close to this, I know the players, it’s just I need to know everything if I was to—’

‘Whoa,’ said Anna. ‘You’re on a break, detective.’

‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘Who would you trust more?’

‘You don’t know what the guards are doing,’ she said. ‘They could be, as you would say, “sitting on their perp” right now. Oh my God,’ she said. ‘Listen to me. I just assumed someone did something to her, that someone’s—’ Tears welled in her eyes.

‘Aw, honey,’ said Joe. ‘Come over here.’

‘I don’t know which is worse,’ said Anna. ‘That someone’s got her somewhere or that she’s... I mean...’

‘I know, I know. That’s why I want to help.’

‘You’re serious,’ she said, wiping away her tears.

‘No shit, I’m serious. Our son’s girlfriend has disappeared. He’s a wreck.’ He looked down. ‘And Martha asked me to help.’

‘Ah. I see,’ said Anna. ‘You have someone’s blessing.’

He said nothing.

‘Do you mind?’ she said, reaching across him, using the track pad to click on the Stickies icon at the bottom of the screen. Over thirty yellow, green and blue computerised Post-Its opened in front of her. She smiled and shook her head.

‘Wow.’

Each note had a reference to Katie’s disappearance and comments underneath. Joe moved her hand away and pulled down the screen.

Shaun breathed in when he saw what was inside the fridge. Tiny cake crumbs. He pushed down on them with his finger and they stuck. He swept the rest of them into his palm and stood, his hand suspended over the sink, wondering if he would be jinxing something by throwing them away. He tipped his hand over and turned on the tap, watching the crumbs float, then swirl over the drain, then disappear. He walked around the house into every room, checking everything he was supposed to check, accidentally doing his job. He went into the master bedroom. His heart thundered in his chest. He lay on the bed with the pillow over his face. He sat up. The room was so empty. He opened and closed the wardrobes. He fixed the bed. He cried. He went downstairs. He turned on the heating. He lay the welcome note on the table. He locked the door. He left the keys under the mat and walked home.

Joe jogged into the station and asked Richie if he could speak with Frank.

‘I suppose so,’ said Richie. ‘Frank,’ he shouted. ‘Mr Lucchesi is here to see you.’ His smile was wide and fake.

‘Well, both of you can hear this, actually,’ said Joe.

Frank came out to the counter.

‘It’s about what I was trying to tell you that time in Danaher’s. Shaun gave Katie a white rose on the Friday she disappeared and I found it on her father’s grave. So I think she went down Church Road and stopped at the graveyard on the way. It’s still there. You can go check.’

‘That’s all well and good, but we’ve got a witness who says otherwise.’ Frank told him briefly about Mae Miller.

‘Oh,’ said Joe, confused. ‘Well, I’m sorry to have... it must have been another rose... maybe Martha...’ He turned away, then nodded back at them. ‘Thanks for hearing me out.’

Anna called into the lighthouse. Sam was finishing up, arranging a set of spanners into a tidy yellow toolbox. He wiped his hands on an oily cloth and smiled.

‘I have good news for you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t have to do much. There were a few kerosene leaks and I had to replace the buckets in the air pumps.’

Anna had been expecting bad news.

‘What I’m saying is, I couldn’t find anything to stop you lighting the light.’

She hugged him tight and patted his back. ‘Thank you so much, Sam.’

‘Oh, there’s one more thing,’ he said. ‘This!’ He pulled out a small pink and cream silk mantle.

‘Wow! Thank you again.’ She took it from him and held it in her palm. ‘It’s not what I expected at all. It’s so light. It looks like something my grandmother would crochet.’

‘Good things come in small parcels,’ said Sam, winking at her.

Joe closed the front door behind him and walked along the hallway, obsessing about Frank and Richie and Mae Miller. He felt like the guy in school who puts up his hand to answer every question, but always gives the wrong answer. He needed to go back to the start. As he walked, he realised he was slowing down. Then something made him stop — a strange and vague hope. He hovered at Shaun’s bedroom door. Part of him ached at what he was about to do, but the rest was on auto-pilot. He pulled the door open and walked down the stairs. He moved around the room, touching as little as he had to. Anything he did pick up, he imagined it glowing like Luminol as soon as Shaun walked back in. The bed was made and a movie magazine lay on top of it. The only poster on the wall was Scarface. There were no photos of models or actresses in the room — Shaun had taken them down when he started going out with Katie. Joe didn’t expect he’d ever put them back up. He stood by the open wardrobe, taking in the boxes stacked on the top shelf. They had small black and white prints of trainers on the front, but they were overflowing with photos, concert tickets and small plastic toys. Joe reached up and pulled out a Magic 8 Ball. He shook it. He didn’t hear the creak from upstairs.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ shouted Shaun from the doorway.

Joe turned around slowly. ‘Uh...’

Shaun ran down the stairs and grabbed the ball from his hand.

‘That’s mine.’

‘I was just...’

‘What?’ said Shaun. ‘Spying?’

‘No!’ said Joe. ‘No. I...’

‘You’re full of shit.’

‘Watch your language.’

Shaun snorted. ‘This is not about my language. This is about you invading my privacy. You wouldn’t search a lowlife crackhead’s house without a warrant... what were you looking for?’

‘I don’t know. Something that would help. I want to help. You want to know what happened to Katie, don’t you?’

‘Damn right I do,’ snapped Shaun. ‘But if the answer was in my bedroom, I think I might have found it by now. And what the hell was that about with Robert? Do you think we’re all stupid? “What’s that scratch on your hand?” Do you think he didn’t know what you meant? You’re screwed up, Dad. All you can see is the bad in people. Even in your own son. Even when you’ve quit your stupid job. That’s really sad.’

The chair was damp against Duke’s back. His lids were heavy and his head lolled backwards and forwards. Somewhere outside, he heard a cry from the trees. His eyes shot open. He gripped the arms of the chair and raised himself up slowly. He moved towards the back door and stepped into the garden. In the next field, he saw two backpackers, laughing, helping each other over a stile. There was a long trail of flattened, yellow grass behind them. Duke bristled. He walked around the front of the house and down the road to where it started. A small hand-painted sign showed a stickman walking. The arrow pointed towards the backpackers. He reached out and rocked the sign back and forth until it came free. He flung it into the undergrowth, turned around and strode back to the van. He sat inside and drove until he saw the sea.