The Game

by Luca Veste

  ‘Still, the messages you sent to her… they weren’t friendly.’

  ‘I didn’t have nothing to do with her going missing, if that’s what you mean. I’m over it, man, haven’t even thought about it in months.’

  That’s the only lie he felt Chris had spoken in the time he’d been sitting in his parent’s living room. The fact he’d been taken for a ride probably slipped into his thoughts at night. His pride had been hurt.

  ‘You said you wanted to kill her…’

  ‘I didn’t mean it, not really,’ Chris said, his voice getting louder now. He half rose out of his seat then thought better of it. ‘Have you never said something like that before? I’ll bloody kill you. It doesn’t mean you’re actually going to kill that person. I swear on my life I didn’t even know she’d gone missing until the tweets were getting shared around and that. I saw them and that’s all I know.’

  ‘What did you think when you saw that she’d gone missing?’

  Chris didn’t answer, his hand curling into a fist and resting against his mouth. He shook his head and sniffed. ‘I thought, good, hopefully she’s topped herself. Done herself in. Before she screwed over the wrong person and they did it for her. I don’t think that’s what happened though. I reckon she’s just done it for attention, because that’s all she ever did anything for, in the end. No one paid her any attention in school and this is her way of finally getting some. She shared pictures of us. You know what I’m talking about? Pictures, and stuff we’d said, that should have stayed private. It’s embarrassing, you know? She made us all look like idiots. Only, that wasn’t enough for her so now she’s gone one better. She’s “disappeared”. She’ll be back by the end of the week, I bet.’

  ‘If something’s happened to her though…’

  ‘Then there’s about fifty people at least who would probably want to throw a party. She’s evil. She knew what she was doing to me. She knows what she did to other people. I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. She played me and didn’t care how I felt. Why should I care about her?’

  Mark’s brain decided to throw in an unwanted thought. Like those times when you’re stood on a train platform and wonder what would happen if you pushed the obnoxious bloke standing near the edge in front of an oncoming train. Or strangled the person who just pushed in front of you in a queue.

  He really wanted Emily’s body to suddenly turn up, so he could get out of this nightmare of teenagers and their problems.

  That wasn’t an option. He felt another part of him shift, a weight of responsibility.

  This was his job.

  He was going to find out what happened to Emily. He was going to find answers.

  And as he felt that, a rush of adrenaline ran through his body and he almost smiled.

  ‘I need the names of everyone you know that she did this to.’

  * * *

  He was sitting in the car, making sure his notes were thorough enough, when his mobile buzzed on the dashboard where he’d left it. Mark reached across, looked at the screen and smiled. He should have ignored it, but decided he needed to hear a friendly voice.

  ‘Hi,’ Mark said, laying his notes down beside him with one hand. ‘Sorry…’

  ‘For what? It’s me that should be saying sorry. I just crashed out last night. Had a long day of it.’ Natasha’s voice was light, but he could hear eagerness behind it. He felt soothed by it. ‘I hope you didn’t get too lonely.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Mark replied. ‘I probably wouldn’t have been much use anyway. Really busy couple of days.’

  ‘I saw. Was it the missing woman?’

  Mark hesitated, wanting to be open with her, but remembering they didn’t really know each other that well. ‘No. Well… I don’t know yet. The body found wasn’t her, but we’re not sure if it’s linked yet.’

  ‘Ah, right. What was I saying to you the other night, hey? All these young women – it’s an epidemic. I got caught up in the same kind of thing yesterday.’

  Mark listened, happy to hear her voice. It felt right, though he couldn’t help but wonder how this could have happened in such a short space of time.

  He realised he missed her.

  ‘Listen, I’ll see you later. What time do you think you’ll finish?’

  Mark looked at the clock, then shrugged his shoulders, as if she could see him. ‘Not sure. I’ll message you, if that’s okay?’

  ‘No problem,’ Natasha replied, giving him a cheery goodbye. Mark stared at his phone a little longer after the call ended, smiling to himself. He thought about finishing early and seeing her now. Shook his head at that and knew it was a ridiculous idea.

  He wished, not for the first time, that he had someone he could talk to about things like this. Relationship stuff. Someone who could keep him from rushing into things. Was that what he was doing? He wasn’t sure.

  He had friends, but apart from playing five-a-side with them every few weeks, he didn’t really keep in contact all that much. They were acquaintances more than friends, really. He had a few mates from his days at college, but that was about it.

  Sometimes he missed being part of a group, but he knew it made more sense this way. To keep his private life small. Just in case.

  Mark leaned forward and turned on the ignition, trying to focus on what was important at that moment.

  Everything else could wait.

  Twenty-Three

  When Mark returned to the station, he could feel the atmosphere had changed since he’d left a few hours earlier. The place was busier now, people moving to and fro with purpose. He wondered for a few seconds what he’d missed, but knew he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer if he asked his so-called colleagues. He left his jacket on his desk and went in search of DI Bennett, ready to update her on the little he’d learned since leaving.

  It didn’t amount to much, in the end. He’d spoken to two other former school attendees of Emily’s – each with similar stories to Chris’s. He doubted any of them had anything to do with Emily’s disappearance. They were all wide-eyed and astonished by his presence.

  Scared too.

  For them, the comments they had made against Emily had been silly and forgotten about within a few days. Now they could see what the implications were. All of them eager to say they didn’t mean it really. That it was all heat of the moment anger. None of them were sorry to see her go and all of them thought she was probably attention-seeking, like Chris had said.

  There were more names on the list. More people Emily had hoodwinked with lies.

  DI Bennett’s office was empty when he crossed over to see her. He was about to go back to his desk and start typing up his notes when she appeared.

  ‘Mark, just the man I was looking for,’ she said, her cheeks red with blush and sounding a little breathless. ‘You need to come and see this.’

  Mark was about to ask her what was going on, but she had already turned and walked away quickly. He raised his eyebrows and followed her.

  In the meeting room, which was close to the main office, the blinds had been closed and a screen erected on one wall. As Mark walked in, a few heads turned, but no one acknowledged him. The images on the screen stopped as Mark noticed that DS Cavanagh was controlling the playback.

  ‘Wind it back and show Mark what we’ve got,’ DI Bennett said, her eyes lit with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

  ‘Must be good,’ Mark replied, taking up a position closer to the screen. ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ve got CCTV from the student accommodation block where Joanna Carter lived,’ DS Cavanagh said, fingering the remote in his hand. ‘It’s the most bizarre thing you’ll ever see.’

  The screen changed to black, then started up again. The camera angle was in the top corner of a lift. The door opened, no one appeared, then it closed again. A few seconds passed by; the door opened again.

  ‘This is her,’ DS Cavanagh said, his voice soft and quiet in the still of the room.

  On screen, a young
woman appeared, dressed in a red top with a black cardigan over it. Some kind of jogging pants on. What Joanna Carter’s body had been found wearing. Similar to what Emily Burns had been wearing when they saw her on CCTV last. Even now, knowing it wasn’t her, Mark could see the similarities between the pair.

  Joanna Carter entered the lift, walked to the far corner, then turned towards the panel. She leaned over, a finger extended, and proceeded to press buttons in a seemingly precise manner.

  More than one button.

  She stood back up, waited. Then she crossed to the still-open lift doors, looking out left and right. She moved back inside, standing in the corner again for a few seconds.

  ‘The doors aren’t closing,’ Mark said under his breath, but everyone was still looking at the screen as Joanna moved forwards again, creeping to the opening, then she jumped through, twisting her head left and right, as if she were trying to surprise someone waiting there for her. She stepped back into the middle of the lift, her hands loosely clasped in front of her. She took a sidestep to the right, turned so her back was against the lift wall, and stepped towards the lift controls again, like she was trying to hide away from the opening.

  The doors closed, Joanna unmoved from her position. The lift seemed to ascend, but it was difficult to tell. The doors opened again, but what little could be seen outside looked exactly as the previous floor did. The same corridor, the same blurred furnishings.

  Joanna moved slowly, peering around the corner of the opening, then stepping out of the lift. The doors remained open as she disappeared from screen for a few seconds, then walked across the frame. She backed into the lift again, moving in a stilted fashion, seeming to count her steps as she did so.

  She moved back to the same position again, her back to the lift near the controls. The doors remained open.

  ‘Watch now,’ DS Cavanagh said, turning to Mark, shaking his head. ‘This is where it gets weird.’

  Mark nodded and continued to watch, thinking it was pretty weird already. On screen, Joanna stood for a little while longer, the doors remaining open. She moved forward tentatively, her feet stopping in the lift opening, her head attempting to peer around its corners and into the corridors. She then jumped out, two feet planted together. She was there, looking around yet again, then sidestepped to her left a few times, then back again. Then walked forwards two steps, then all the way backwards into the lift again.

  Once inside, she began dragging her left foot in a circle. Then she did the same with her right. She peered out of the doors again, standing there for around ten seconds, her head jutting out of the doorway repeatedly. Then she stepped again, standing to the side, so only one of her arms and a slight portion of her lower body were visible. Mark watched as she lifted her arm up, moved it around for ten seconds, then let it drop to her body again.

  She walked back into the lift, pressing buttons on the controls again, stepping to the side as the doors closed. She stood there, rocking on her heels, as her lips moved soundlessly.

  ‘You’re right,’ Mark said, his eyes stuck to the screen now, watching every moment as the images unfolded. ‘It is weird.’

  DS Cavanagh sniffed, but didn’t say anything. The doors of the lift opened again, the same pattern as before emerging. Joanna peering out into the corridor. Joanna stepping to the side and backwards, in a seemingly random pattern. Joanna walking out into the corridor and moving in an odd fashion. Then she went back into the lift and began pressing buttons again.

  This repeated for the next three or so minutes, the lift opening on different floors of the building and Joanna seeming to perform the same ritual each time.

  Until what Mark assumed was the top floor.

  Joanna seemed to pause this time, taking deep, slow breaths, shaking her hands out as she did so. She suddenly looked nervous, whereas before she looked assured, even while doing increasingly bizarre things.

  Mark watched the counter on the top of the screen tick by, five seconds, then ten, as Joanna continued to stand in the middle of the lift.

  The doors continued to stay open.

  Then, without warning, she almost bolted out, disappearing from view quickly in a flash of colour. The CCTV images continued, the doors to the lift eventually closing.

  ‘Wait,’ DI Bennett said, a small smile curling her lips.

  Mark could see Joanna walking off into the distance. A few seconds went by, then someone else appeared.

  A figure dressed in dark clothes. A hood covering his head, his footsteps purposeful and stalking.

  ‘Someone followed her,’ Mark said, squinting at the screen, as if he could magically make the figure turn around so he could see whoever it was.

  ‘That’s the last time we see Joanna,’ DS Cavanagh said, pausing the video and turning back towards him. ‘She’s followed onto the roof, then a few minutes later, this happens.’

  The person who had followed Joanna appeared again. Mark held his breath, waiting to see the face of the person, then frowned when he could only see black.

  ‘He walks backwards,’ DS Cavanagh said, his voice flat and emotionless. ‘We’ve gone through the entire CCTV and he is always shielded from view.’

  ‘He knew where the cameras were,’ Mark replied, for his own benefit, rather than anyone else’s. ‘And it is a he, I’m guessing.’

  ‘It certainly looks that way from his build and the way he moves,’ DI Bennett said, turning away from the screen and facing Mark again. ‘Which means…’

  ‘Emily’s disappearance is probably unconnected,’ Mark finished for her. Although he could see that DI Bennett wasn’t exactly buying that thought. ‘As in, she wasn’t with Joanna on the roof of that building. Still, it’s some coincidence.’

  ‘It is,’ DI Bennett said, perching herself on the long table that took up most of the room. ‘Joanna hadn’t been seen for two days before this happens. Before she’s found at the bottom of the building, dead, yards away from Emily’s last known whereabouts.’

  ‘We need to find Emily,’ Mark said, understanding why he’d been brought in to see the video. ‘Even if we think they’re unconnected, we can’t say for certain.’

  Bennett glanced across at DS Cavanagh, the look not really answering anything for Mark.

  ‘They’re possibly unconnected, but we don’t know. If there’s a chance they are connected, then obviously we can’t rule that out,’ DS Cavanagh said finally, unable to keep the look of confusion from his face. ‘Because, right now, we haven’t got a clue. The best we can come up with is that Joanna was having some sort of mental breakdown and that someone took advantage of that fact. We need to find Emily to make sure either she wasn’t involved, or…’

  ‘She hasn’t been a victim like Joanna too.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Cavanagh continued, standing up and leaning on the back of the chair with two hands. ‘We’ve been going through Joanna’s phone, her laptop, everything we could possibly find. We don’t have a single link to Emily whatsoever. There’s nothing on social media, nothing in her emails, nothing at all. Even those names that came up with Emily – all the fake personas she created – not a single one seems to have had any interaction with Joanna at all. So why is Emily last seen a hundred yards away two nights earlier? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Not without Emily,’ Mark said, mirroring Cavanagh and leaning on a chair himself.

  ‘Precisely,’ DI Bennett said, standing up and crossing towards the door. ‘At the moment, however, I think we have to go with the obvious here. Emily’s disappearance may not be connected. Still, we need to find her to make sure.’

  ‘I’m working on it,’ Mark said, then felt the need to continue. ‘If someone doesn’t want to be found, it makes everything more difficult.’

  Which wasn’t his first understatement of the week and he felt it wouldn’t be the last.

  Twenty-Four

  PLAYER ONE

  This was the part she hated most.

  The waiting.

  She couldn
’t stand the waiting.

  Downstairs, she could hear her mum singing along to music in the kitchen. Some old song she’d never heard before, or was likely to again.

  ‘Alexa,’ Holly heard her mum shout, too loud for the new device she’d picked up for herself on sale a week earlier. She’d laughed when her mum had told her about the purchase, thinking she’d never be able to use the thing properly. Turned out it was more user-friendly than Holly had realised. Which meant all she heard when her mum was home was that stupid name shouted loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

  ‘Alexa – play “Heaven Is a Place on Earth” by Belinda Carlisle.’

  Holly sighed and grabbed her headphones, set her iTunes playlist to shuffle and placed her phone back on the bed beside her. The pink laptop she’d had for three years was perched on her legs, running slower now than when she’d first got it.

  She still hated the colour of it. When she’d unwrapped it, she had smiled and said thank you, thinking the entire time this isn’t what I wanted. Still, at least her parents had got her something that was useable. Other years, they’d given her cheap hair straighteners she’d never get out of the box, or vouchers for places she never shopped at.

  With the laptop, she now had a reason to spend more of her time in her room, instead of having to do her homework on the ancient desktop they had in the dining room. The thing that took half an hour to send a document to the printer, even though it was sitting right next to it.

  It had made schoolwork a little easier, but it had also helped in other ways.

  It was getting dark outside, the glow from her laptop screen straining her eyes. She looked over at the light switch and decided it was too far away. Continued to lie on her bed and wait.

  Her eighteenth birthday was seven weeks away and she didn’t have any friends she could invite to a party. No one to go out clubbing with, or to a local bar. To go for a night into town to celebrate her coming of age.