‘After seeing what they did to him? Are you mad?’
Jonny interrupts. ‘There wasn’t an outbuilding.’
‘What’s that?’
‘There was none. We went through the garden when we left via the back way. And we walked the entire exterior of the main property. There was no outbuilding.’
‘See? He wasn’t remotely with it by that point. Guys, this is a terrible idea. I mean no offence at all, but I have no idea who you three are, and from what I’ve seen, you’re sub-competent.’ Jonny’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘I’m serious. If you hadn’t been here two nights ago, I’d be fine right now.’
‘Why don’t we vote on it?’ I would bet almost anything Elle was a prefect at school.
‘What? What’s the constituency here? What’s the voting system? We’re not ateam. We just met.’
‘You’re welcome to make a case for your proposal, Al.’
‘I just did. We’re not investigators. I don’t know what you guys are good at apart from Mr Technical Support here’ – Jonny tuts – ‘but I doubt “hunting gangland murderers” is in your skill set.’
‘From what I understand,’ Em says, ‘these things are mostly a matter of asking people the right questions, perhaps lying to them a little along the way, and making a few new connections. I thought you were a master of deceit, Al?’
‘I am, but—’
‘And not getting caught?’ That’s Elle.
‘Yes, but this really is—’
Jonny adds, ‘You do keep emphasising your unique talents.’
‘Will you all shut up? This is a bad idea, and it will get us caught, or killed, sooner than we otherwise would have been. Frankly I’m amazed the three of you have lasted six months.’
‘Very flattering. All right, that’s Al’s case made, which appears to be predicated on the fact that we haven’t done this before. So, all in favour of trying to find out a bit more?’
Three hands go up.
‘And those who want to get on a cross-Channel ferry?’ There’s no point, but I stick my hand in the air anyway.
Em smiles briskly. ‘That’s settled, then. Let’s start in the morning.’
Absolutely no way. I have already made my own mind up: I’m going to ditch these people tonight. I’m going to get across the Channel, or bury myself in a tiny Cornish village, or squat in a bothy in the Cairngorms, and once I’ve left these lunatics a hundred miles behind me, I won’t ever see them again.
8
There are two schools of thought on sneaking out of a building by night:
1) Move like a shadow. Take ten minutes to cover ten metres. Move with all the grace and stealth of a lynx/ninja/stagehand at the National.
2) It’s impossible to move quietly. Walk normally, as though you’re getting a glass of water, and then just ease the front door shut behind you.
Of these theories, I’ve always preferred number 2. Sneaking is unnatural. And it always feels loud to you. This might be an illusion caused by your ears straining for any other noisesaround you; either way, you sound absolutely thunderous compared with your normal gait.
I’m also unpractised at creeping around, partly because wherever I go, I’m the only person in the house, meaning I’ve never bothered to learn.
So at 3 a.m., I’m dressed, my bag is packed, and I trot downstairs as naturally as I can manage. I flush the downstairs loo – a touch of addedvérité– and now it’s time to go.
The moon is out over the garden. I’m going to my other regular place, in Parson’s Green, and although it’ll take me two hours, I’m going on foot. I need the walk, and I know the camera-free streets en route.
The girls locked up carefully – just in case anyone tried to get in – but I spotted the cupboard in the front hall where Elle stashed the keys. I make my way across the huge hall now, past the high-winged sedan chair box. A vision of theotherhall, and Sausage Fingers lying there surrounded by broken glass, recurs to me. I shudder.
The cupboard is tall, and as I ease it open, I grope around inside the upper shelf for … Where is it? The keys were on a big bulky ring with a leather luggage tag. They’re not here. That’s peculiar.
