‘It’s Catriona,’ she growled, before hauling Jason to his feet. ‘Stay out of trouble.’
Jason’s eyes were adjusting to the dark. The crowd by the door were still moving the tables, while Catriona saw to Gareth. The rest of the room was inky black, with Anchor and Pansy unaccounted for. The darkness had outstayed its welcome.
‘Lights on!’ he yelled at the top of his lungs.
They obeyed his command, burning bright. He picked out Lewis guarding the agents at the door, armed with nothing but his fists. Cerys and Owain were standing apart, in the centre of the room, arms outstretched to grab at passing shadows.
No Anchor. No Pansy.
Jason ran for the door, as the tables were finally shifted away. It burst open – and Nikolai stood in the doorway, his head matted with old blood and his eyes burning with hatred.
‘No fucking time for this.’
Jason punched him in the face and Nikolai listed to the side, clutching at his jaw. Jason barrelled on through and headed straight down the corridor to the front door of the building. A hand yanked his shoulder away from the door.
‘You’ll fry,’ Lewis said, out of breath.
‘What?’
‘There’s a loose cable and a large puddle. Agents are dead.’
A small figure appeared at the end of the corridor and Jason waved his arm.
‘Shut down all the power,’ he called to her.
Amy nodded and retreated again, back to manipulating the circuit board in the laundry room of the compound. The illusion of environmental control.
The lights went out again and they were slowly joined by a crowd of voices, before the all-clear came. Owain herded them into a group and told them to stay together. He was going to lead them to salvation.
‘Look straight ahead,’ he told them. ‘Don’t stop for anything.’
Outside, the moon was out and there were dead men on the ground. He heard the cries from the agents with them, the disbelief and the grief. Jason didn’t have time to look, to care – he had to go after Pansy and Anchor.
He felt that tug at his sleeve again and knew his sister was at his side.
‘Where now?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted.
‘Pansy won’t run,’ Lewis said. ‘He’s a runty little thing. He’ll go to ground.’
‘But where?’
‘What about literally?’ Amy asked.
Jason looked around the corner of the building. They had clearly gone out the window – why not stay in the garden? This place would soon be crawling with clean-up crew, but no one would notice one extra man. The ground had deep furrows ready for Stoker’s next crop of vegetables – a small man could lie down in one, under a tarpaulin, and survive the night to slip out in the day.
Tacitly, they agreed to go look. Jason took the lead, with Amy at his right shoulder. Cerys and Lewis were behind them, all absolutely silent. They felt like hunters stalking prey, stalking a man who didn’t kill in passion or from madness – but because he believed himself superior to every other being. It made Jason feel sick, listening to his ‘confession’ – his manifesto. If Jason had picked up on the signs earlier, Bo might still have his sight and Roshan his life.
The cold dark earth stretched before them, only a sliver of moon to illuminate the way. They fanned out without waiting to be told, each walking the length of the garden with a furrow either side of them. Amy had something dangling from her hand. Jason wished he'd brought a weapon.
The silence was oppressive, but it was the only thing they had. The noise from the front of the building, from inside, sounded very far away – like another world. Soil slipped beneath Jason’s boots, the soft sound of tumbling earth breaking up the emptiness of the place. He remembered that Mole had been found here. Dreadlock had brought him out here to rest, in the place he had loved most.
Stoker had made sure Dreadlock had found his rest. Jason had no idea how to tell Lewis. How did you say, ‘your boyfriend killed a man with his bare hands’? How did you—
His leg was pulled sharply to the right and he slid into the trench. He felt a crushing weight on his shoulders – and then he was sucking mud, his face buried in the earth. The soil was in his mouth, his nose, his eyes. He was drowning in it. He was dying in it.
He hadn’t made a sound. They wouldn’t realise he had stopped walking with them until it was too late. It took three minutes to suffocate, and he could feel the last seconds of his life ticking away. Wasting away.
The weight was gone. Two people dragged him upright and he coughed the dirt out of his mouth, spluttering as a bucket of stagnant water drenched his face. He blinked it away, saw his sister holding the bucket, and wondered if he should be grateful.
Kneeling in the ditch before him, Pansy was staring at him, gasping for his help. Amy stood behind him, a USB cord around his neck, pulling hard on the ends with a look of determined violence on her face.
‘Amy,’ he said, somehow finding his voice. ‘That’s enough.’
‘No. It’s not.’
He watched Pansy slump forward, unconscious – but she still held on. Jason couldn’t see her eyes, just dark holes in her face beneath the night sky. In that moment, he believed she could kill Pansy. That this place had corrupted her like it had corrupted everyone else who set foot in it.
Then, she let go, dropping the cord and letting Pansy fall forward into the dirt. Cerys kicked him over onto his back and Jason watched his chest rise and fall, as he breathed, as they breathed.
As Amy stepped forward and her eyes returned to his sight, and she tried to smile. Perhaps it would be all right.
Perhaps.
Chapter 59: The Price of Silence
They’d found Anchor in the Hide, kneeling over Dreadlock’s body while Stoker mutely looked on. He had failed to watch him, and now he was dead. The experiment was ruined. Amy had wanted it to fail, but not like this
Frieda had arrived two hours after it was all over. The agents who'd received electric shocks and lived had all been airlifted away. The remaining agents gathered together in a barn on their friendly farmer’s land, with Owain as caretaker. The four bodies – Dreadlock, Roshan, and the two security agents – were laid out in the Hide, with Twofer keeping a vigil. The prisoners were all inside the compound, even the pretend ones, with Cerys, Catriona, and Amy watching over them. Everyone was accounted for.
Everyone except Martin, who had vanished without a trace. Amy and Jason had searched the bunker and compound. Nothing.
The Cardiff Ripper had disappeared into thin air.
‘Agent Lane.’
‘Agent Haas.’
Amy turned towards the voice, her expression matched in blankness to Frieda’s. The agent left her escort by the door and came close, too close, voice lowered to speak confidentially
‘Report please.’
‘An escape attempt was made. There were four fatalities. Hostages were taken, so the monitoring team intervened.’
Frieda looked pointedly at Cerys and Catriona. ‘You brought in external contractors.’
‘They brought themselves.’
‘The conditions of the experiment were violated.’
‘Yes, they were.’
Amy saw Frieda hesitate. She hadn’t been expecting agreement.
‘Please explain why you did not maintain the integrity of the experiment.’
‘It was already compromised when I arrived.’
Frieda’s eyes narrowed. ‘Go on.’
‘The undercover agent was responsible for the death of a prisoner. A coverup was orchestrated by IN1, who then entered the compound as a second undercover. Despite the presence of two undercover agents in the compound, they allowed a neo-Nazi to go on a spree of violence and murder. The four fatalities and multiple injuries are all directly and indirectly the result of agent
action and inaction.’
‘So you decided to intervene.’
‘I terminated the experiment before it incurred further loss of life.’
‘Why didn’t you contact me prior to making that unilateral decision?’
‘Perhaps you should answer your phone.’
Frieda’s usual calm expression had been replaced by a taut smile. She turned to address the room, drawing the attention of the nine gathered men.
‘As per our agreement, you are all free to leave. Your criminal records have been erased. However, if you commit a further crime, you will find them reinstated. I hope I am clear.’
Stoker looked bewildered. Pansy laughed and crowed, looking around for someone to shake his hand, but no one was paying him any attention. Anchor stared at Frieda, betrayed.
She gestured towards the door, as if asking what they were waiting for, and most wasted no time in leaving. Stoker tried to catch Lewis’ eye, but he was staring straight ahead, refusing to be tempted again. Jason lingered, but Frieda ignored him, turning her attention to Cerys and Catriona.
‘Neither of you were here,’ she told them. ‘Your superior officers won’t hear anything from me and I expect the same courtesy.’
Cerys shrugged one shoulder, a gesture eerily similar to Jason’s. Catriona looked like she would say something, then thought better of it. They left together.
‘Are you going to tell us what the fuck’s going on?’ Jason asked.
‘I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to make you understand.’
‘Try us,’ Amy said, coolly.
‘I believe you know most of it – the prisoners had to escape the bunker, then they would receive their second set of orders. But Martin Marldon had other ideas, didn’t he? He wanted to be the king of this insignificant castle. It was amusing, for a while, and then it was tedious. I directed my agent to intervene.’
‘By murdering Mole?’
Frieda’s lip curled. ‘He exceeded his orders.’
‘So, what happens now? You just let the Cardiff Ripper and a bunch of dangerous fuckers wander off!’ Amy could feel Jason vibrating with fury beside her.
Frieda looked at him, amused. ‘I said they were free to leave. I did not say they would go unwatched.’
Amy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Frieda still thought she had control of them, of the experiment. She had no sense of the scale of the disaster she had overseen.
‘You did not perform in the field as anticipated,’ Frieda told Amy, unexpectedly.
‘I was much better than anticipated.’
‘You were.’
Amy tried not to feel the surprise, just rode it out. She felt Jason’s body close to hers, felt his warmth. She held on to her one demand, fixing it in her mind’s eye.
‘I want to give you a promotion.’
‘I want out.’
‘You are serving a suspended sentence.’
‘You just released at least two murderers.’
Frieda’s eyes narrowed. ‘This is not a negotiation.’
‘This is the price of my silence. Take it or leave it.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Are you refusing my offer?’
The mask fitted snugly now. She also felt disconnected from it, like it was a face she could let go at any time. It felt close, the moment of letting go. But nothing was certain until it was done.
‘Fine. I accept your… proposal, on the same terms as the pardons I just granted. If you commit another crime—’
‘You’ll have to catch me first – and turn the bloody cameras off, would you? Come on, Jason.’
She left Frieda without waiting to be dismissed, nodding aside the minions at the door, feeling Jason strong at her shoulder. The door opened out onto the early light of dawn and she felt something warm and welcome bubble up inside her. It felt like hope.
Chapter 60: Fly Away Home
Amy opened the last of the boxes containing her newest computer – Lovelace. She patted all its pieces like a brood of guinea pigs, and Jason tried not to laugh at the shining expression on her face.
They had barely been home a day, but he already felt the feeling returning to his head and his heart. He hadn’t realised how much he had shut himself off in the compound, falling into the prison mentality and buying into the cult of weirdness inside without question.
Amy was starting to come back to herself too. The stiff formality was fading, the echoes of Frieda leaving her face. Jason had found that whole experience creepy as fuck, watching the two of them face off with identical masks overlying their features.
Amy ate another biscuit from the packet on the kitchen counter and gulped down her coffee. ‘Have you heard from the others?’
‘Cerys is fine. She’s moving out of our mam’s house.’
Amy looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. ‘Please tell me she’s not moving in with him.’
‘Catriona and her dad. Apparently, they’re ‘besties’ or whatever.’
‘You’re so old,’ Amy teased.
‘I’m classic,’ he said.
Amy folded a box and made an attempt to stuff it into a recycling bag. He came to her aid and they silently, steadily cleared their living room of its cardboard infestation. Their living room. The one without an agent perched at the counter. The one that contained the futon he no longer had to sleep on, if he was very lucky.
‘What do we do now?’ Jason asked.
She turned to him, looking up into his eyes, searching for something. He had only meant the constructing of her new computer or the grocery shopping, but he could tell that his question was loaded for her.
‘What do you want?’
He had to think this answer through. He couldn’t just blurt the first thing that came into his head and run with it. She deserved better than that.
‘Well, uh, I was thinking of setting up a garage with Lewis. Maybe bringing in Dylan. It’s what I’m good at…’
He could see the tension rising in her and resisted the urge to hug her, to kiss away that frown, to kiss away the entire day if it meant she would smile again. They had to talk about this without distractions.
Yet, if he were honest with himself, he was waiting on her, hesitating in committing to anything. His eyes met hers, silently begging her to give him a reason to stay, to say no to Lewis. To come home and to be with her in every possible way – in her work, in her life, in her bed.
‘I’m setting up a private investigation agency,’ she said. ‘It will be a legal one this time. I want you to be my partner – my full partner, not an assistant. I want you to work with me.’
He hadn’t expected that. He imagined he looked as stunned as he felt. A private investigation agency? They would be working independently again, and he would be her equal. Not the errand boy, not the cleaner. Her partner.
‘It will be slow to start, of course,’ she said, starting to ramble. ‘I have some savings from our NCA salary to keep us going, and of course we don’t have a mortgage to pay – thanks Grandma – but I don’t want you to feel like I’m twisting your arm or anything, just because you live here. You have to want it, because—’
‘All right then,’ he said, and kissed her.
After one frozen moment, she returned the kiss, joyful and sure, crushing him to her. Any lingering doubts melted away and he knew that he was making the right decision for both of them. For their future.
He broke away, and saw her grin mirroring hers. Lewis would forgive him. He always did. They would always have the pub on Sundays, now that they were both free men. Lewis would set up his garage and find himself a partner, and Jason would co-run a detective agency with his number one hacker – and his girlfriend.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.
‘I think we really need a cup of tea,’ he said.
Rosie Claverton grew up in Devon to a Sri Lankan father and a Norfolk mother. She studied medicine in Cardiff and quickly turned Wales into her home. When she is not writing or working in medicine, she blogs about psychiatry and psychology for writers in her Freudian Script series. Her aim is to help writers accurately portray individuals with mental health problems in fiction.
Other books in the Amy Lane Mysteries series:
Binary Witness
Code Runner
Captcha Thief
Terror 404
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Hard Return. Please let me know your thoughts by emailing [email protected] or finding me on Twitter – @rosieclaverton.
Minor spoilers ahead…
The idea for this novel came from a desire to tell a modern country house mystery – except this house is full of convicts and the basement’s rammed with spooks. I wanted to create a claustrophobic atmosphere, one that pushed Amy particularly into a whole raft of new, dangerous experiences.
The time skip between Terror 404 and Hard Return came about for a couple of reasons. One was to narrow the gap between when the books are set and when they are published, as the brief in-universe pause between Captcha Thief and Terror 404 meant that our protagonists could end up stuck in an endless 2014. However, I’m not sure that dragging them to terrible 2016 was a kindness.
The second reason was to eke out the last of that unresolved sexual tension before I finally answered the ‘will they, won’t they’ question. When Binary Witness was first published, a number of readers thought it was a romantic suspense novel. Instead, it took me five books to finally take the plunge.
The next offering in the series will be a short story released in time for Christmas, so look out for ‘Blinking Lights’. Hunting for the perfect Christmas present turns into a disaster when all the lights go out in Cardiff on Christmas Eve, but Jason and Amy are on the case.
As for the next full-length novel, it all starts with a girl on a train… Except we actually care more about her laptop. Keep your eyes open for news about Last Save.
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