The Black Sheep's Shadow (James Perry Book 1)

by Mark Ayre

  “He caught you.”

  A twitch at the knuckles. George was thinking about killing him. Well, he could try, but James wasn’t going to stop. The anger was powering him now, pushing him on. He tapped the book.

  “She wasn’t the first, was she? Before that Luke caught you with Amber at the leisure centre, and Penny from the post office. Mark caught you with Carol from the call centre and Emma with Alice the DJ. A few weeks ago, Mohsin suspected you of sleeping with Becky, though I doubt he caught you. I’ll tell you what, you’re not very careful, are you? I can’t believe you’ve gone so long without being chucked in a cell.”

  He thought about that. George hadn’t been protecting Luke, but the culprit had been protected. No way he could have lasted otherwise.

  “Mark and Emma kept their mouths shut, that helped. And I suppose Mohsin was only suspicious. Nothing more. Luke was your problem. His moral line demanded he speak up. He must have loved you because he didn’t the first couple of times. I guess he didn’t know they were charity girls.

  “Different with Sema though. He’d been working with her, and when he found out what you did, he lost his temper. Confronted and beat you up. He was going to tell everyone, and you got afraid. You needed a way to deal with him, and you came up with the perfect solution.

  “Make Luke the abuser, and get him thrown out of the village. That way no one had to find out what a monster you were. It’s quite clever.”

  George’s lips had become a thin line. His eyes wavered with hatred. Still thinking. Always thinking. But soon thought would lapse into anger and he would lash out. James would have to move fast if he did, and he twisted the office chair a little, giving him room to dive if he had to. He continued rolling the story in his mind and came to the crux of the matter.

  “Sema never attacked Mohsin. She ran right past without noticing he was there. Given what he almost did I might peg you as the attacker, but that can’t be right. Sema had come to find you. You’d turned her into a lovesick puppy, I guess by telling her you weren’t happy with Christina - that you didn’t love her. She came to find you and saw the two of you making love in a car by the roadside.

  “It broke her heart, but that was her only crime. That’s why she was there. It had nothing to do with Luke.”

  George stood, looked entirely lost, span a little then looked back at James, shaking his head too vigorously.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Anger like a spark touched his senses.

  “Fuck you. You’ve been abusing them. Abusing all those girls and maybe more. Thirty years you said you’ve been working here and how long has it been going on? How many have suffered?

  “Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to feel any sicker than I already do. Just know this. You’ve been abusing these girls, and now Charlie’s gone missing. Maybe that’s your retribution. Your punishment.”

  Without noticing, he had stood, and was screaming. He expected the dazed George to back off, but at the mention of Charlie a sharp focus returned to the monster, and he yelled right back.

  “How dare you. You come here on behalf of my son, and now you tell me Charlie’s disappearance is my fault?”

  “I had nothing to do with Luke coming here. He came because he tried to do the right thing for once and you screwed him over. Turned on him and morphed him into the disgusting monster you are. Your affairs, your fucking these girls lost you Charlie.”

  “No.”

  He came forward, as James had expected, but James had made plans based on sitting. Now he tried to move aside and got his foot caught on the leg of the chair, stumbling as a roaring George came at him, lashing out. The back of his hand crashed into James’ face, and he stumbled back, hitting the bookshelf and sliding onto his arse. George stood over him, inches away, dripping rage.

  “I have dedicated my life to helping these kids. I love every one of them, and Luke would have ruined that. You think the truth would have done anything for them? This place is nothing without me and if I take things a little further with a few of the girls then so what? I do not abuse them. I treat them like Queens, and they have all gone on to get jobs. To live happy lives.”

  “They’re vulnerable kids,” James said, no longer screaming. Just tired with despair.

  “They know what they’re getting into. We couldn’t let Luke ruin everything, and I won’t let you either. Everyone knows you’re with him. Everyone knows you’re scum. So you will run out of town, and things will go on as they are. I will help these kids and those that like me, and whom I like, we may be together. I may make them mine. And what will you do about it?”

  Silence filled the room. James wasn’t going to say anything. Didn’t need to.

  “Oh, God, George.”

  In the doorway stood whistling Ben. But he wasn’t whistling any more.

  “Ben, listen -“ George tried, but his voice was alive with desperation, and besides, what could he say when he’d already given himself away?

  “James, call the police.”

  James started to rise and George span towards him -

  “No -“

  - Then back.

  “Ben, don’t be silly. Let’s be reasonable about this. This place needs me.”

  “George, I’m sorry, but I’m arresting you on -“

  “No -“ another scream. His hands came out, and he shoved Ben hard in the chest, crashing the officer against the door frame. Then he was moving, rushing out of the door and out of sight.

  Wasting no time, James jumped to his feet and ran, expecting to have to give chase but stopping right outside the office.

  Several steps ahead stood George, still and staring towards the doorway at the top of the stairs. Standing there, tears streaming down her face, was Sema.

  “Sema, darling, you need to go downstairs,” George tried. “It’s almost time for your speech.”

  “Fuck the speech. You told me you loved me, but I don’t mean anything to you. I saw you with her in that car, and I know you’re sleeping with Becky. I know it.”

  “Sema you need to stop.”

  “I know you’ve been sleeping with other girls as well. I know everything.”

  “Sema shut up.”

  The voice was thunderous, and Sema stepped back as though it had physical force. Ben came out of the door and froze as James had. George began to stride down the corridor.

  “Get out of my way, Sema.”

  “You broke my heart.”

  James saw a glint and remembered the red he had seen in her hands downstairs. Realised what it was.

  “Sema, no.”

  He was running as he spoke, but there was no chance. The red was clutched in her hand, a line of silver jutting past it. She brought it up as George reached her, vanishing the silver into his stomach.

  James stopped. Stared at her as George stepped back. Now her hand wasn’t just holding red but was covered in it. George turned, and that same red was spreading down his shirt and trousers. He gaped at James, shock and fear spread across his face, then fell, collapsing to his knees and onto his front.

  After that. But for the sounds of Sema’s thick, heavy and heartbroken sobs, there was silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sirens tore through the peaceful quiet of the village, disturbing lazy Sunday afternoons and scattering birds to the winds. The lights and bright white of the cars ruined the aesthetic of this beautiful place. Such vehicles were for the cesspit of the city. James hated to see them here, but in three days this was the second time.

  Maybe city and village weren’t so different after all.

  The men from the end of the 999 line did their jobs quickly and efficiently. The paramedics saw to George - compressing the wound and sliding him onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. The cops saw to Sema. She was still sobbing and didn’t put up a fight. James watched as his friend, Officer Rickson, drew the handcuffs as a gunslinger draws his pistol.

  “You don’t ne
ed those.”

  The cop looked at the crying girl, then gave James a sneer.

  “‘Scuse me if I don’t take advice from you on how to do my job. Funny how you turn up and it all kicks off.”

  James had plenty to say to that, but Ben appeared at his side before he could.

  “He’s right. Cuffs aren’t needed.” Turning the tone of his voice down to soft, and directing it to Sema: “You’re not going to cause any trouble, are you?”

  Sema shook her head. Whispered something that might have been sorry, bowed her head and drifted back into silence. Ben gave Rickson a look and the less than friendly cop put the cuffs away.

  “Fine. You two stay here. I’ll be back.”

  “Do bring your pad.”

  Rickson ignored James. He grabbed Sema under the arm, squeezing a little too tight for James’ liking. He might have said something, but Ben saw him and shook his head. James settled for watching as Rickson dragged Sema away, hoping he wouldn’t be so rough at the station.

  “Wait here,” Ben said, pointing to the reception chairs. “I’m going to help deal with the kids. Then I’ll be back.”

  He left to help handle the effort to get the kids gone unless they were occupying one of the rooms. A tough task, given the interest generated by the arriving ambulance and police car and made worse by the sight of the paramedics stretchering George away.

  James would have offered help, but the latest altercation had knackered him, and his back still ached. He dragged himself over to the chairs and dropped into one, hand over his eyes, staring into darkness. Trying not to think and struggling to keep Luke's face from his mind.

  My parents, man, they never cared one jot. I was their disappointment, their scapegoat. You can’t imagine what that’s like.

  But he had made scapegoating easy. Hard as it was for a mother to turn against her son, she knew Luke was a dealer. She no doubt knew he was responsible for the deaths of Katy and Alex, so what happened when George told her Luke had been sleeping with girls from the charity? And Mark wasn’t going to step up and defend the brother who killed the girl he loved, even if he knew his father had a habit of sleeping around.

  So Luke had been blamed, and that was wrong but didn’t change what had happened in the past. His desire to help Sema was laudable but didn’t absolve him for what had happened to Katy and Alex, nor excuse him kidnapping Charlie. He still needed to be found and stopped.

  Footsteps approached. He opened his eyes expecting to see Ben but instead found Mac standing in the doorway, looking towards the open door out of which they had taken George.

  “Will he live?”

  James remembered Megan asking the same question about Mohsin. He had cared more about what would happen there. But the answer here was the same.

  “I’ve no idea. I didn’t realise you were working. Lunch has passed.”

  “I stayed on to help with the talk.”

  “Then shouldn’t you be helping?”

  She flinched. He regretted the words immediately.

  “I’m sorry, I’m stressed and worn out. My back hurts, and I’m dealing with an everlasting headache of worry about Luke and Charlie. We don’t need to talk about any of that though. Mohsin’s waking tomorrow. You must be excited?”

  She stepped further into the room, perching on the little table although there were several chairs free. She tilted her body towards him but didn’t allow their eyes to meet, still looking out of the door.

  “Dunno. Feels like I’ll never be excited again. Never be happy.”

  “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

  “Do I?”

  “You didn’t do anything.”

  “You think?”

  “No, I told you, I know it was -“

  He stopped. He had known it wasn’t her because he had known it was Sema, but now he didn’t know it was Sema. Was sure it wasn’t Sema. He stared at Mac.

  “If you’re saying -“

  “I didn’t attack Mohsin.”

  “But?”

  “Who says there’s a but?”

  “You did -“ and as she went to protest - “not verbally, but you said it.”

  The table must have become too uncomfortable because she rose and sat in the seat next to him. Both stared ahead, facing the wall as though bouncing their conversation off it like a tennis ball. There were a few moments of silence. Then Mac began to cry. He let this go on half a minute, too awkward to do anything else, then forced himself to put an arm around her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She put her head against his shoulder, and he tried to relax. He’d never felt comfortable around criers, but this was okay.

  “You can tell me.”

  “I’m in love.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “It is because tomorrow it comes to an end.”

  “What about the chocolates?”

  “Sometimes chocolates aren’t enough.”

  “Mohsin isn’t going to blame you for what happened.”

  “The attack doesn’t come into it.” She took her head from his shoulder, met his eye for the first time. “I’ve done something bad. Something worse than ask Mohsin to walk me home. I need to fix it.”

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. Rose.

  “I have to go.”

  “Wait, please.”

  He took her wrist but didn’t pull hard. She slid from his grip but didn’t walk away. He rose and saw the hurt in her eyes.

  “Has this something to do with Charlie?”

  “Leave it alone, James.”

  “I can’t.”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “It does now.”

  “I have to go.”

  He checked if Ben was coming, then went after her, rushing out the reception door and stopping her again.

  “Wait, wait.”

  “I told you to leave it.”

  “And I will, but -“ he slid his phone from his pocket. Held a finger to pause Mac and scrolled to the new contact section. Added her name and handed her the phone. “Add your details, and I’ll send you a text. No pressure, but if you want to talk, about anything, we can. I know that sounds stupid coming from a stranger but, sometimes -“

  “It’s easier talking to a stranger.“

  “Exactly.”

  She stared at the phone as though she’d never seen one, then took it. He watched as she input her number then took the phone back and texted her. There was a bing, and she withdrew her phone, showing him the screen.

  “There, great. Give me a call whenever you want.”

  “Goodbye, James.”

  This time he didn’t stop her but did watch her go. Half expecting her to turn back, or change her mind about talking to him. But she didn’t.

  He watched until she was out of sight, then went back into the charity building.

  Wondering if he’d made a big mistake.

  By the time his latest interview with Rickson was over, James was ready to walk for eternity.

  His back still banged, but his legs were worse. Cramped and irritated after too long sitting down. His jaw ached from telling his story again and again, and his head hurt from all the questions he could not yet answer.

  Would George live? Would he go to prison if he did? What would Christina say when she found out what he’d done? How long would it be before James was kicked out of the village? Was Luke close? Did he know everything that was going on? Had he attacked Mohsin personally? Was Charlie safe? Would they ever bring the missing boy home?

  They rolled on repeat, flowing across his mind and flittering away like butterflies in the summer breeze. He began to feel sympathy for Luke and tried to drop kick it away. Tried to remember Alex and Katy, two people he had never known, and feel anger over what had happened to them.

  His mind clogged with thoughts and his eyes stuffed with visions, he had been paying no attention to where he was walking, but was not surprised when he looked up fr
om staring at his shoes to find himself walking alongside closely packed trees leading to a carefully hidden shack. Ahead stood the familiar sights of Claire’s door, the mouth of the alley and the place where George had parked the car before making love to his wife. Sharon’s sofa was still present, but a sheet now covered it, presumably to protect it from the rain, rather than hide it from potential thieves.

  Somewhere a curtain flicked, and James looked up sharply. A shape moved in a window, and he felt a tremor, as though someone had walked across his grave. Looking at Claire’s door, he wondered if anyone had informed her about his relationship with Luke. Wondered what she would do if she believed he had something to do with her son’s disappearance. Didn’t think about it long, because it wasn’t a pleasant thought.

  Speeding up, he moved down the road. Planning to pass the alley. This he might have achieved if not for the hooded gentleman walking towards him. He had passed people already today and thought he might do so again. Then the young man looked up, saw James. There was recognition there, and although James couldn’t see the man’s face, he could almost feel the smile. The hood quickened towards James.

  Ready to turn and return the way he had come, James heard more footsteps. Another hood behind.

  Horror attacked James, pumping adrenaline and fear through his body. He broke into a jog, turning as he made the alley. He would get through there, make it out the other side and run until he -

  Stopped. Stepping into the alley he had expected a clear route to the other side, but instead found darkness. Two more shapes blocked his path, both hooded. From their figures, he guessed one was a man, one a woman. The man shape spoke.

  “Hey, James.”

  The voice was familiar, but James had no time to ponder it. Turning, he thought he might be able to run. If he went fast enough, there was every chance he could reach Sharon’s, bang on the door, and get in. Maybe she hadn’t heard the update yet. Maybe he would be safe.