“So either this just a monumental coincidence or someone out there has very specific tastes.”
“There’s no such thing as coincidence.”
Jim grunted in agreement. “Now you understand why I think Price is more than likely telling the truth. This isn’t about money. This guy, whoever he is, is a predatory sexual deviant of the worst kind. And, as you know, scumbags like that usually operate alone.”
“Usually, but there’s a chance this one doesn’t, right? I mean, Jamie Sutton was a good few years older than Ethan and Jack. So either this perverted fuck goes for older boys as well, or he’s got a partner with different tastes.”
“That’s a possibility, assuming Ethan and Jack’s cases are connected to Jamie’s, which we’re not convinced they are. But even if they are, it doesn’t put Price in the frame. In fact, I’d say it does the opposite. Think about it. Assuming Price does have a taste for boys like Jamie Sutton, how come he’s never tried anything on with Kane Reed?”
“Maybe he has.”
“If that were true, do you really think Kane wouldn’t have spilled to us by now?”
No, Harlan didn’t think so. He glanced into the car. Susan was staring at him as if trying to read his lips. Neil’s head hung forward, eyes closed. He could’ve been mistaken for a corpse. Just one more casualty in the trail of desolation that lay in the wake of all such crimes. Harlan heaved a sigh. “So who are you sending for Price?”
“Don’t worry. It’s someone you can trust not to tell Garrett about your involvement. Listen, Harlan, I can’t talk anymore now. Things are pretty hectic here. I’ll call you if there are any new developments.”
“Good luck.”
Harlan hung up. He stared at the photo of Jack Holland a moment longer. Then, with a sick and weary look in his eyes, he got back into the car. “Who was that?” Susan asked anxiously.
“A friend. A policeman. There’s been a development.”
“I knew it! I knew something was going on.” Susan’s voice grew hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to her question. “Have they found Ethan?”
“No. There’s been another abduction.” Harlan showed Susan the photo. She sucked in her breath, putting a trembling hand to her mouth as he briefly filled her in on the details.
Neil craned his neck to see the phone’s screen. His eyes widened, horrified, yet with a spark of wild hope mixed in. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see, Susie? This proves none of this has got anything to do with me.” He turned to Harlan. “Tell her. Tell her I’m right.”
“It’s hard to say what this proves right now.”
“But if this sicko’s snatching other kids, then-”
“Shut up, Neil,” broke in Susan, glaring at him as though she might slap him again. Transferring her gaze to Harlan, she asked in a quiet, almost tender voice, “Do you think your friend could get a message to Jack’s parents? Just to let them know they’re not alone. That I know what they’re going through.”
“I’ll ask him.”
Dropping her eyes back down to the photo, Susan reached to gently stroke her fingers over Jack’s face. “God, he’s so beautiful.” She looked away suddenly, tears spilling down her cheeks, her face contorting into quivering scowl. Spittle flecked her lips as she said, “It makes me want to kill, thinking about what might be happening to him.”
They sat unspeaking in the gathering gloom — Susan letting her tears fall silently; Neil pale, his lips drawn into a tight line; Harlan staring at A amp;E, trying not to think or feel for a while, but knowing that was impossible. A car pulled up in front of A amp;E. DI Sheridan got out of it, glancing around. Harlan flashed his headlights and she headed in his direction. “Get out,” he told Neil.
Neil shot Susan a final pleading glance. “I meant what I said, Susie. I’m gonna make this right. You’ll see.” When she refused to meet his eyes, heaving a breath, he got out of the car. DI Sheridan took hold of his arm, and with a brief nod at Harlan, guided him towards her car.
“Do you really think Neil’s got anything to do with this?” asked Susan.
Harlan knew what she wanted. She wanted what so many others had sought from him in the past — hope. But as much as he hated to see her pained, imploring eyes he couldn’t give it to her, not while there was even the slightest chance it might turn out to be false. “I don’t know.”
“Oh Christ, I hope he doesn’t. I let him into the kids’ lives. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if he’s part of this.”
Harlan started the engine. “I’ll give you a lift home.”
Susan looked at him uncertainly, as if she wasn’t sure whether to accept a lift. Then she let out a breath that seemed to come from her feet. “I’ve got to pick up Kane from his friend’s house.”
“What’s the address?”
“Just drive. I’ll tell you where to go on the way.”
Following Susan’s directions, Harlan drove to a terraced house several streets away from her own. She got out and rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door opened and Kane stepped out. Anger festered in his sullen, simmering hazel-brown eyes like an open wound. When he saw Harlan, his mouth twisted with bitterness. “What’s he doing here?”
“Giving us a lift home,” said Susan.
Kane glared at her incredulously. “No way am I getting in that car!”
“Please, Kane.”
“No. No fuckin’ way.”
Susan’s voice rose. “Don’t you use that language with me.”
“You said you were going out to talk to Neil. You lied.”
“No I didn’t. Look, Kane, something’s happened. Something to do with-” Susan broke off, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard. “This isn’t the place to talk about this. Just get in the car, will you?”
Kane shook his head furiously. “How can you have anything to do with him?”
“I don’t want to, but I have to.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Now come on, get in.” Susan caught Kane by the arm, dragged him towards the car and opened the rear door. He kicked it shut, then kicked it again, denting it. “Kane, stop that!”
Jerking away from Susan and darting Harlan a look of violent hostility, Kane ran across the street. “Get back here,” shouted Susan. He ignored her. She ducked her head into the car. “Sorry about your door.”
“No need,” said Harlan. He would’ve gladly let Kane work the car over with a baseball bat if it helped him work off some of his rage.
“I’ll have to go after him.” Susan started to turn away from Harlan, but hesitated. Not looking at him, her voice barely audible, she said, “Thanks.”
Thanks. The word reverberated in Harlan’s mind as he watched Susan chase after Kane. What did it mean? That she’d forgiven him? He dismissed the thought. She was grateful for what he’d done, but that didn’t mean she’d forgiven him. There was only one way she’d ever do that, and maybe not even then. Still, it briefly buoyed his spirits. But then his thoughts returned to Ethan and Jack, and everything inside him grew heavy again.
Chapter 14
Harlan drove to his flat, stopping on the way to pick up some fast-food — his fridge had stood empty for days. He ate mechanically, tasting nothing, lost in a fog of exhaustion. His meal half-finished, he shuffled to bed. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the moment he shut his eyes he saw Jack Holland’s face as if it’d been imprinted on the underside of his eyelids. Something else Susan had said came into his mind: it makes me want to kill. When Tom was alive, he’d said a similar thing to Eve once when investigating a particularly heinous crime. But when Tom died that part of him had been closed off. Now all he had the capacity to feel was a kind of soul-sick sadness. But it was enough to keep sleep away. After a couple of hours, he got up and switched on the television. There was nothing on any of the news channels about Jack Holland’s abduction. It wouldn’t be long before there was, though. Then the media would go into a frenzy, pumping out fear like an overactive adrenal gland, making every man a suspect. And maybe they’d be justified in doing so, reflected Harlan. If, as seemed likely, Ethan and Jack’s kidnapper was the same person, it was clear they wouldn’t stop until they were caught.