‘Burnfield.’ She says the name with wide eyes, nodding as if he should know the answer.
‘It’s a weird name. I thought I’d heard it somewhere before, but I haven’t.’
Polly is still nodding, now more vigorously. ‘Yes, youhaveheard it before. We both have.’
Chapter 47
Alex
I overestimated you. I genuinely thought you might be able to figure it all out. But here we are, nearing the end, and you still have no idea what is going on. Something in your brain won’t quite click, will it Miles? All those little neurons are furiously firing away, but the pathways they’re on aren’t lining up right. And now your time has just about run out. Such a shame, because all it would take to achieve that eureka moment is the tiniest synaptic transmission – a barely detectable pulse of energy in the brain.
I’ve become fascinated by the chemistry of the brain. It must be because mine is so difficult to understand and predict. When I think of my own, I imagine some malevolent lab technician with a pipette, adding a few too many drops of this, too small an amount of that, and then finally, while wearing a look that saysoh sod it, tipping in a volatile set of reactants just to see what happens – fuelled by the curious desire to witness a human head fizzing with restless malfunction.
There’s so much noise in here, Miles. My head is a loud, loud place. Too many bad thoughts and memories. Too many competing desires and ideas. I’d like to put an end to it: to pourwater on this miserable experiment and snuff it out once and for all. Have someone pack away the apparatus and clean down the bench as if nothing ever happened.
Still, not long to go now. Just a couple more hours and this will all be over, Miles. For both of us.
Chapter 48
Polly
‘Burnfield Court,’ Polly whispers.
Miles’s eyes go wide at the mention of it. ‘From the documentary?’
‘Yeah. Burnfield Court was the estate where that horrible drug house was. The one Caira had to keep visiting. Remember?’
Miles slowly nods.
‘It was awful. And judging from the documentary, there were some horrible people there.’
Polly watches Miles’s face twitch and tense as he thinks it through. Again, he says nothing, just turns his head to stare out of the window, where the forest is reappearing under the red glow of dawn. ‘I wouldn’t read too much into it,’ Polly says. ‘The people in that house were mostly addicts and drifters. There is no way they’d have the guile or the means to follow you all the way here. Whoever it is, they’re just a troll.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Miles gets up and grabs his walking boots, then sits back down and starts lacing them.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to find a signal and call the police.’
‘Really?’ Polly raises her voice so everyone can hear. ‘I think it would make more sense if somebody else went.’
‘I’m going,’ Miles repeats, firmer this time. ‘Come with me if you want.’
Polly puts some weight on her injured ankle and winces. There’s no way she can walk for miles. ‘I can’t. But you mustn’t go on your own.’ She raises her voice and looks around. ‘Who’s going with my brother?’
‘I’ll go with him,’ George says.
The sight of George getting to his feet and reaching for his coat is a relief to Polly. He might be the most annoying man on Earth, but at least he’s loyal to Miles. ‘Thanks, George,’ Polly says.
‘Of course.’
‘Wait,’ Faith says, also rising. She jabs a finger at George. ‘He’s not going anywhere.’
‘Why on earth not?’
Faith ignores George’s question and addresses Polly. ‘George is the only one with a motive for Elis’s murder. The cops won’t be happy if they find out we let him just wander off into the bush.’
George scowls and his eyes dart around, searching for support. ‘For heaven’s sake. Being punched in the face isn’t a motive for murder. I didn’t do anything to Elis. I’m not a criminal.’
