Anthony Horowitz - Nightrise

“Good morning. Nightrise Corporation. How may I direct your call?”

A second lift door opened and a FedEx delivery man stepped out, holding a parcel. Jamie waited while he went ahead, through the glass doors. The package would have to be signed for. That was good. It would distract their attention. That would give him his chance.

One of the women was talking on the phone. The other was dealing with the delivery. Now! Quickly, Jamie passed through the glass doors, walking as if it was his right, as if he had visited the building a dozen times before. He found himself in a smart, carpeted area with leather seats and a water cooler. There were pictures on the wall: modern art. A wide, glass door stood on each side, leading to corridors and more offices. Which way? He had to make an immediate decision. If he hesitated, he would be noticed. And then he would be stopped.

He turned right and went through the door, expecting at any moment to hear one of the receptionists call out after him. But they hadn’t seen him. Now it would be easier. He was inside. Anyone seeing him would assume that he had been allowed through.

But where was he to begin? Jamie glanced at his watch again. Everything depended on exact timing and somehow another two minutes had gone by. That just left him five minutes to find Colton Banes. He looked around. The forty-fifth floor had been expensively decorated in different shades of blue, with more paintings between the doors. On the left-hand side of the corridor all the outer rooms, the ones with a view, had been given over to senior executives and their assistants. Their names and the office numbers were printed in small letters beside each entrance. On the other side, the central part of the office was open-plan. Jamie could see a maze of desks divided by partitions. There were perhaps twenty or thirty men and women, most of them young, bent over computer screens or talking on the phone. The carpets were thick and seemed to absorb any sound. Was that how business was done here? With the same hush as a laboratory… or perhaps a church.

He came to an open door and looked inside. There was a photocopying machine and a young man in jeans and an open-necked shirt, only five or six years older than Jamie, sorting through a stack of documents. Jamie was about to move on but the young man suddenly looked up.

“You OK?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“You looking for someone?”

“Yeah…” Jamie lifted the envelope, showing the name on the front. “I’ve got to give this to a Colton Banes.”

“Banes? Do you know his department?”

“No. It doesn’t say.”

“Well, let’s take a look…” The young man went over to a table and picked up a plastic ring binder. He flicked through it. “Banes…” he muttered. He turned a page. “Here he is. You’re on the wrong floor. He’s up on forty-nine. Room four nine two five. Must be a big shot! That’s the way it is here. The bigger you are, the higher you go.”

“Thanks.” Jamie backed out the door.

He thought he would have to go back to the lift, but as he came out of the photocopying room, he noticed a sign: FIRE EXIT. Of course, in the event of a fire, the lifts would shut down. There had to be stairs.

He continued down the corridor. A woman holding a bundle of files hurried past him but nobody stopped him. Nobody even looked in his direction. He came to the fire exit, pushed it open and found a flight of metal and concrete stairs on the other side. He climbed up, taking two steps at a time. He had Banes’s office number but time was running out. Alicia would make her call in just a couple of minutes. And all of this was easy compared to what had to happen next. Jamie dreaded it even as he quickened his pace. He could feel his heart beating and knew it wasn’t just the exertion of the climb.

The forty-ninth floor was exactly the same as the one he had left, with the senior offices and conference rooms on the outside and the common pool at the centre. There were more people moving between the different work stations but they were still talking in low voices as if afraid of being overheard. But there was no art here. The walls were covered with posters: the same poster. It showed a serious-looking, grey-haired man. He had been caught half smiling, as if he wanted to be friendly but had too much on his mind. VOTE CHARLES BAKER. Jamie recognized the name of the senator running for president against John Trelawny. From the look of things, the entire floor had been turned into a campaign office on his behalf.

Jamie felt more exposed here. It could only be a matter of time before he was noticed. But at least he knew where he was going. 4907, 4908… He followed the office doors round. Another quick look at his watch. He had two minutes left.

Colton Banes had an office suite at the far corner and the door was half open. Jamie edged forward and looked through. There was an outer room with a desk for an assistant but it was empty. A second door, also open, led into another, larger space. And there he was, sitting in a high-backed leather chair behind an antique, highly polished desk. Jamie drew a breath. He had come here looking for Banes, but even so it was a shock to see him again: the cold, watery eyes, the bald head that could have been the result of some disease. This was a world away from the Reno Playhouse and Jamie found it almost impossible to make the connection. Had Nightrise sent this man to kidnap him and his brother? Had Banes really killed two people – Don and Marcie – when the plan had gone wrong?

He looked at his watch. Thirty seconds left.

“Who are you? What are you doing there?”

The voice had come from behind him. A man was moving down the corridor and Jamie could see at once that he wasn’t anything like the younger man he had met in the photocopying room. He was plump and bearded, wearing a suit, and he had a radio transmitter in his hand. He must be part of security. And he was suspicious.

The telephone rang. Jamie heard it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Banes pick it up.

“Who are you?” the security man demanded.

“Hello?” Jamie heard Banes answer the telephone and knew he had to get into the office. There were just seconds left.

Sitting outside the office building, speaking on her cell phone from the car, Alicia asked, “Is this Colton Banes?” She had been passed through to his office by the switchboard.

“Yes.” Banes was already puzzled. He didn’t know the voice. Why was this woman calling him?

The security man was waiting for Jamie to answer. When Jamie said nothing, he took a step forward. “I think you’d better come with me,” the man said.

“I’m with him.” Jamie jerked a thumb in the direction of the office. He knew it sounded feeble but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

On her cell phone, Alicia knew the moment had come. “Where is Scott Tyler?” she asked.

Banes looked up and saw a scrawny boy in a brightly coloured shirt and baseball cap standing in his office and knew he had been tricked. The woman on the phone had asked him a question and although he had no intention of saying anything more, he couldn’t stop himself thinking of the answer. That was why Jamie was here. This was what the two of them had arranged. He had arrived just as Alicia had opened a window in the man’s mind.

Jamie jumped through it.

He did exactly what he had done a thousand times on the stage. He jumped – not physically, but as if he were throwing a miniature replica of himself out of his head. But this time it wasn’t Scott at the other end. This time it wasn’t his brother with his warm and familiar thoughts.

It was Colton Banes.

Jamie felt himself plunge into utter darkness. It was like diving into a pool of freezing oil. And at that moment, he shared everything that Banes had ever felt or thought. There were pictures – millions of them – but there were also experiences and emotions: fear, arrogance, lust, anger, cruelty, hatred and much, much more. Jamie had tried to explain it to Alicia but he could never have found the words. A man’s brain is a world. That’s what he should have said. And the world in which he now found himself was beyond any imagining.