Simon Lelic - The Child Who

‘How dare you!’ Megan moved with a speed that caught Leo by surprise. She flung a hand and Leo, reacting, caught it. She flung the other and hit Leo on the upper arm. She swung again and this time Leo caught her other hand too. She was thrashing in his grip, yanking at her wrists to try to free them.

He pushed and she stumbled away. She made to come again but Leo held out his hands to ward her off.

‘Megan! What the hell are you doing! Calm down!’

‘You wanker . You bastard !’ Her hair had come loose. Her jumper had twisted and she writhed to try and straighten it. She started to cry. More than that, she began to heave, gulping and sobbing all at once. She gave up on the jumper and tried to drag her hair from her mouth, as though to make space for air – but it was stuck there by her spit and her snot and her tears. Leo had never seen her look so wretched; so wounded and terrified both.

‘Meg.’ He took a step. Megan sniffed, sobbed again but marginally recovered her breathing.

‘Meg, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean…’

She recoiled.

‘I need you, Meg. More than ever. You need me too, I know you do.’

Which made her look. Into his eyes and beyond them. It was just a look but as clear an answer as Leo could have asked for.

‘Meg.’ Leo could feel his own tears now, massing though yet to break. ‘Meg, please. Don’t. Just think for a minute before you—’

A ringing. The sound they had been waiting for.

Leo was closer. He looked at the phone and back at his wife. She was motionless all of a sudden, her hand halfway to her cheek, her lips pressed tight. A tear fell and she let it.

The ringing. Once again Leo turned. His feet pointed one way, his shoulders the other.

‘Answer it.’

Leo looked at Megan.

‘Answer it!’

Leo scrambled. He lunged and snatched up the receiver. ‘Hello?’

There was quiet for a moment at the other end. A rustling, voices in the background, then finally a cough. ‘Hello?’ said a voice back. ‘Mr Curtice?’

‘Inspector?’

‘You’re there. Thank God.’

‘What’s happened? What’s going on?’

‘Are you… Can you get down here?’

Megan, Leo was aware, was beside him. He turned and held the receiver so that she might hear.

‘Of course. But what’s happening? Have you got him?’

‘We’ve got him but… Look, you need to come down here.’

‘Why? Inspector? Have you found my daughter? She’s not… Please don’t tell me she’s…’

‘Don’t drive, Mr Curtice. Just stay put. A car’s already on its way.’

‘He says he won’t talkto anyone but you.’

They marched along the corridor, Detective Inspector Mathers supposedly leading but Leo setting the pace. He was surprised, given the hour, how busy the station was. It was kicking-out time at the city’s nightclubs, which explained the bustle in the lobby, but here, amid the back rooms, they had barely passed a room without a light on.

‘He’s refused a solicitor, too,’ said the DI. ‘Doesn’t want a duty. Says you’re the only lawyer he trusts. Seemed to think that was amusing until I reminded him what it was he was doing here.’

Leo broke step. He was laughing? He was sitting, waiting… laughing?

They stopped outside a windowless door. Mathers reached for the handle and held it. ‘Listen,’ the DI said. ‘I realise this is going to be hard for you but it’s important that we keep our cool. We still don’t have your daughter, Mr Curtice. Whatever he says, whatever he does, you need to keep that in mind.’

Vincent Blake was pacing the edge of the room, tapping his cigarette packet against his thigh. From the door side of the table, a constable roughly double Blake’s size tracked his progress. Other than a chair either end of what looked like a 1980s school desk, there was nothing and no one else in the cell.

Keep your cool. The words, briefly, tethered him. But when Blake turned; when he spotted Leo and smiled – smiled , as though genuinely pleased to see him – Leo felt his fury snap its leash.

He surged. He felt a touch on his shoulder – a flailing grip – but he was free of it and past the table and through a chair and falling against his cowering prey. He seized Blake’s throat. He pressed him to the wall. He smelt sweat and soured smoke and the scent was like a taste of blood.

‘Where’s my daughter!’ He squeezed and Blake’s eyes bulged. ‘Where is she! If you’ve hurt her I swear to God I’ll…’

A hand on each arm: rough, strong, prising at his grip and wrenching it away. Another set around his middle, yanking until Leo tumbled. He searched for Blake’s face but saw only the constable’s, the inspector’s, and felt himself hurled against something solid. He cracked his head. He barely noticed. He tried to push himself forwards but there was a weight across his chest that pinned him: a forearm, the size of Leo’s lower leg.

‘Mr Curtice!’ DI Mathers appeared around his colleague’s shoulder. Their faces were in Leo’s, blocking his view of the coward in the corner. ‘Look at me. Look at me!’ Leo, reluctantly, allowed his focus to settle. He saw Mathers growling. ‘I said cool, didn’t I? I said we needed to keep our cool!’

Leo jerked. The constable held him still.

‘Okay!’ Leo struggled again but less forcefully. The policemen were a wall in front of him and he would have said anything to get a glimpse of the man beyond. ‘Okay,’ he repeated and this time Leo held the inspector’s eye. Gradually the pressure across his chest began to ease. The constable drew back. The inspector, though, held his ground.

‘Cool!’ He showed Leo a finger. ‘Got it?’

Leo nodded. He shifted and there he was: Daniel’s stepfather, his cigarette packet crumpled at his feet and his nicotine-stained fingers massaging his throat. The man coughed. He hacked and he spat. He glared at Leo and Leo glared back.

‘Sit,’ said the DI. ‘Both of you.’ He dragged Leo towards a chair. The constable, less tenderly, assisted Blake.

‘Hey!’ Blake resisted but the policeman shoved him down, then slid the chair so Blake’s stomach impacted against the table. He took up position at Blake’s shoulder. Leo sensed the DI looming over his.

‘I could do you, you know,’ said Blake, spluttering. ‘Him and you both.’ He jabbed a thumb at Leo but spoke across his shoulder to the PC. ‘That’s assault. So much as touch me again and I’ll have you for ABH.’

The policeman said nothing. He stared at the opposite wall.

‘Settle down, Mr Blake,’ said Mathers. ‘I don’t think you really want to broach the subject of formal charges just yet, do you?’

Blake faced them. He glowered.

‘Now. The matter in hand. We’re listening. Mr Curtice here: he’s listening.’

Blake, tentatively, moved his gaze to meet Leo’s. He licked his lips. He made a motion to lean forward but, catching something in Leo’s expression, changed his mind. He propped his elbows on the surface and spread his fingers.

‘Curtice,’ Blake said. ‘Leo.’ He wetted his lips again. ‘I sent the notes. Okay? I admit it. But this business with your daughter… I swear to you I had nothing to do with it.’

Leo made no movement.

‘Please,’ said Blake and this time he did lean forward. ‘You need to tell them. You need to convince them I’m telling the truth. Because they won’t listen. They just won’t. I mean, you know what they’re like, right? You have to deal with them all the time. Right?’

Leo twitched and Blake flinched. Mathers, at Leo’s shoulder, edged closer.

‘Where is she?’ Leo’s voice, in his head, sounded distant. It seemed steady, under control, when Leo felt anything but. ‘Blake,’ he said. ‘I helped you. I helped Daniel, your family. Please. Just tell me where my daughter is.’