‘Have we caught him?’ I asked when we were clear of the school grounds.
‘You mean is Eli Davis our killer?’ Tarryn frowned. ‘Uri doesn’t know; that’s why he’s summoned Victor. There’s a lot that doesn’t add up about Davis, but murderer? We’re not sure.’
‘Uriel has no authority to detain him. Will he need me to persuade him to stick around for Victor?’ asked Alex.
‘He promised not to use savant gifts on Davis and so far the man’s cooperating, so no, let’s leave that for now. The guy’s on fire to get us; you’d just be throwing fuel on the flames. According to Uri, Davis is relishing the confrontation, just waiting for Uri to put a foot wrong, but of course he won’t. He is too good at what he does.’
This wasn’t a peaceful stroll. I was unnerved but that was nothing to the tension pent up in Alex. With him walking between us, Tarryn and I were like bomb-disposal experts carrying an unexploded ordnance along the road.
‘What if I persuaded him to confess?’ Alex rubbed his hands over his face, trying to delete the stress of the last couple of hours.
‘I don’t think that’s the right use of your power. Your strength is charm, not coercion,’ said Tarryn. Thank goodness one of us was calm. ‘Victor is a professional in the field; leave it to him.’
‘But Davis went after Misty! He threatened her!’
‘I know you want to get him for that, Alex, but that’s hardly the right frame of mind for you to question him in. That’s why we have due process. Victor can put the right questions in a legal framework—that’s important if they end up prosecuting him.’
Alex gave a strangled, frustrated groan. ‘How would you feel if it were Uriel he cornered in the library?’
‘I’d feel very much like you do, but I hope I’d also know I had to step back so that the evidence is collected cleanly. You’d regret it more if you were the reason a suspect got away from us.’
Of course, she was right, but Alex was struggling to feel so detached. ‘OK, OK, I get it. But I want to protect her from creeps like him.’
‘Put your energy into making Misty feel better. I don’t need Francie’s gift to know that she must be really upset.’
‘Yes, you’re right. Sorry, Misty. I’m just finding this … hard.’ Alex wasn’t used to caring for someone. It was frightening him. I could see it in him: the desperation to protect, the dislike of being so vulnerable. ‘What do you want me to do? How can I help?’
‘Just be you.’ I linked my hand with his. I didn’t want to offload on him, not when he was carrying so much of his own baggage right now. ‘You’re doing fine.’
It was one in the morning by the time we got to bed. I was sharing Tarryn’s room in a city-centre hotel on Parker’s Piece, a grassy common that had escaped development. I drew immense comfort from knowing that she was only a short distance away in the twin bed and that Alex was just down the corridor. True to his promise to help me, he sent me to sleep with a soft chatter of telepathy, stopping me thinking too much about the violation of my private space.
But it had happened—and I couldn’t understand why I had been singled out.
‘Did he take anything?’ Victor Benedict stood with me in the disaster area that was my room.
I stooped and picked up a jewellery box. ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ The hinges had come apart on the casket. The box was painted in the colours of the South African flag but now only one side was still attached, the contents spilled on the floor. I didn’t possess any trinkets of great value, just a few bits and bobs I’d been given over the years. I scooped them back into the broken box, having nowhere else for them.
Victor scanned the room. It looked like a whirlwind had pulled everything from the shelves, drawers, and walls. Only the bamboo-print curtains were still hanging. ‘It wasn’t a burglary but a search.’
‘How do you know that?’ I put the box on the empty dresser surface. From the scatter pattern of objects on the floor I could reconstruct how the intruder had swept his arm to push my stuff to the floor.
‘The small items of value, such as the cash in your purse, weren’t taken. I know you think you don’t have much, but there are still many things here that could be sold if you know where to go and if you’re desperate enough to stage a breakin. Your passport, for example, is worth quite a lot but he ruined it instead.’ Victor plucked it from the top of a pile and put it in my bedside table. It had been torn in two, the page with my photo on it gone completely. ‘Phone charger, iPod, laptop. None of them the latest model but there’s still a market.’
‘But if it’s a search, then he wasn’t very methodical.’
‘No, you’re right.’ Victor gave me an approving look. ‘I realized that a while back but I’m interested to know how you worked it out.’
‘From the mess. I think a professional would manage to search my things without me even knowing he had been and gone. The way this person’s enjoyed destroying my stuff suggests he was angry and mean as he did it.’ I picked up the photo of Summer, Angel, and me which had been ripped in two. I could only find the half with my friends on; my side was missing.
‘You got something?’ Victor noticed that I’d gone very still.
I held out the half photo for him to see. ‘The rest doesn’t appear to be here.’
‘And that part shows … ?’
‘Me.’ I turned over the frame that had held the wedding-party picture. Again, it had been torn up, this time into five or six pieces. I jiggled the bits free of the shattered glass and put them together. There was a gap on the far right where I had been. ‘Victor?’
He took the pieces from my trembling hand. ‘Maybe you should stop now, Misty.’
I’d never heard him be so gentle. I shook my head. Testing my new theory about this attack, I picked up my scrapbook. The pages fell apart from the binding. Shoving them back in, I could tell that any leaf with a photo of me on it had been torn out; even the baby photos if they had been labelled.
‘This is sick. Why do this to me?’
‘Come here.’ Victor pulled me close and put his arms round me, forcing me to end the search. I don’t think I’d ever seen him hug anyone before. He pretended to ignore the fact that I was crying. ‘You have to stop now. I think we know what this guy was trying to achieve and you’ll only drive his message deeper home if you carry on.’
‘What message?’ I wiped my eyes on my sleeve.
‘He wants you scared.’
‘Well, full marks then. He’s saying I shouldn’t exist—or he doesn’t want me to exist, isn’t he?’
Victor tensed. He would have preferred to have left that out. ‘That’s my reading of the situation. It would fit with a savant-hater like Davis.’
‘What about the killer—if that’s someone different?’
‘It doesn’t fit the pattern of the other abductions. There was no warning, nothing like this.’
‘So it was Davis?’
‘Possibly.’ Victor’s cool grey eyes registered his doubt. ‘But he said he wasn’t alone in his investigation. He’s dreaming of a big exposé—winning the Pulitzer—the whole nine yards, so I can’t see how room-wrecking fits. He’s ignorant of the fact that many governments are well aware of our existence and that we have good reasons for not highlighting our presence in wider society. He’s from the school of thought that there is no such thing as a justified secret.’
I was still stuck on the ‘wasn’t alone’ part of what Victor was saying. ‘There’s more who think like him out there?’
‘From what I’ve gleaned from Davis’ rambling answers, there’s a small group of like-minded crusaders against savants.’
‘And one of them might have done this while I was sitting in the library and Davis was at the debate?’
My distress had reached the point where it was broadcasting on all channels citywide.
Hey, bokkie, what’s wrong? Alex was supposed to be in a contest with my school team; he couldn’t afford to have his concentration broken.
I wanted to say ‘nothing’ but couldn’t. Victor just filled me in about the anti-savant league and I got a bit upset. Sorry. Go back to what you’re doing.
Victor was eyeing me shrewdly. ‘Misty, I think you need a break from this. I’ll finish here. Why don’t you return to classes?’
‘Sounds good.’ I reached for my maths folder, one of the few things that had stayed on a shelf. Drifts of confetti paper fell out. ‘What?’
Victor took it from me and carefully opened it. Every page that had my handwriting on it had been destroyed. Photocopied sheets had been left untouched.
‘My biology and chemistry coursework!’
He reached the files before I could and took a look inside. ‘They’re the same.’
Distress went off the Richter scale.
That’s settled—I’m leaving this debate and coming to find you!
No! You can’t let the others down. I’ll … I’ll be OK. Victor’s looking after me. Stay, please. I’d feel worse if you came.
Alex agreed, but very reluctantly.
Victor piled the two files together. ‘I’m really sorry, Misty. This is just cruel.’
‘It must’ve taken ages to sort the things out into what was me and what wasn’t.’ I didn’t want to be in this room ever again. The destroyer took a wicked relish in his work. ‘That’s all my coursework for three subjects. He didn’t get geography but only because I had it with me.’
‘I’ll tell your teachers what’s happened.’
‘But the pages can’t be replaced—they were my work, my notes.’
‘I know—I’m sorry. Some things just don’t make sense. There are people who are plain evil.’
My friends were shocked when they heard what had happened. In the vacuum of no sensible reason for the attack, they made up plenty of explanations, none of which were as scary as being the target of unknown savant-haters. My mind whispered that it could even be one of my peer group, someone in my school who thought like the journalist. Horrible though it was, I was beginning to suspect everyone.
But you know when they tell the truth, I told myself, and everyone is really unhappy for you.
Tony, Hafsa, and Annalise, whose subjects overlapped with my choices, immediately promised to photocopy their work. Hafsa stood over the machine in the secretary’s office, feeding in her chemistry notes, while Annalise sorted out her maths and Tony his biology.
‘Weird things are always happening around you,’ Annalise mused, unclipping the ring binder.
‘Never like this, I promise.’ I sat curled up on the visitors’ armchair, knees hugged to my chest.
‘Maybe someone was upset by something you once said,’ suggested Hafsa. ‘You know you can be … um … very direct.’
‘Not that that excuses them,’ Tony added quickly. ‘You’re not to blame.’
‘Of course not. Just a thought.’ Hafsa blushed and busied herself sorting out the subjects into order for me.
It was a thoroughly miserable week. I should have been on cloud nine in the days after discovering my soulfinder but instead I was in the dumps. My parents were muttering about bringing me home and only let me stay when I pleaded I wanted to stick it out in Cambridge. Alex was there; where else would I go? The only bright spells were the times spent alone with him, but even these carried with them the reminder that I couldn’t be with him for the exciting final rounds of the contest. That small matter was assuming elephantine proportions for me because I was so upset about everything else.
On Tuesday night, his team had a free evening. Tarryn had the idea to take them to the leisure centre climbing wall as all the guys enjoyed the sport. Alex insisted I came too as there was no debate for me to derail and he could risk being seen with me in public. Even when not with me, he was making sure I wasn’t left alone.
‘I hate heights,’ I warned as we walked across the grassy expanse of Parker’s Piece to the modern sports complex. ‘I’m just going to watch.’
‘We’ll see.’ Alex gave me one of his heart-melting smiles. Oh lord, I could feel my resistance crumbling. I would do anything to impress him and I think he knew it.
Climbing harnesses are very unflattering, cradling those bits of you that no one usually straps in once you graduate out of a high chair. Alex seemed to appreciate the effect on me though, if the twinkle in his eye was anything to go by. He managed to kiss me several times during the process of strapping in.
‘OK, guys, as you’re experienced, take the red route,’ said Hamish, our instructor. He had the beanpole stature of the serious mountaineer and had already won the boys’ respect by his description of climbing in Yosemite.
‘You got it.’ Michael was off up the wall, using his long reach to grasp the next red block on the plastic rock face. Ropes hung down from the top like some bizarre maypole. I could not imagine myself going up there. What was the point?
Oh yeah, I wanted to show Alex I’d try to fit in with his life and climbing was one of his favourite hobbies.
‘Misty hasn’t done this before,’ Alex told Hamish before I bolted.
Hamish’s eyes swept my black Lycra-clad form, gauging my abilities. ‘You’re looking a bit pale, lass. You sure you want to do this?’
‘Um … ’
‘What’s the easiest route?’ asked Alex. His attention wasn’t really with me now as he was watching Hugo make a great move to reach the next ledge. My stomach turned over.
‘Yellow. You’ll find it child’s play. Nothing too challenging.’
‘Hmm.’ Words were no longer possible.
Alex put my hand on the first position. ‘There you go. Take it slowly.’
‘Hey, Alex, what are you doing? We’re getting old up here,’ called Phil. He’d already reached the top and was looking to abseil down when the rock face was clear.
‘Coming.’ Alex boosted my butt in a ‘get going’ gesture and began climbing next to my spot. He was soon several metres over me. I listened as if my life depended on it to Hamish’s patient instruction.
‘The next one’s to your left. No, not the green. You’re doing yellow, remember.’ He didn’t know that half the time I had my eyes shut.
About a third of the way up I made the mistake of looking down.
‘Misty, are you stuck?’ asked Hamish. ‘No need to panic, love, the next handhold is only a little stretch away to your right.’
But my hands would not release their grip. Why was I even doing this? I thought I’d be with Alex but he had zipped up the wall like a gecko and there was absolutely no reason for me to carry on as I certainly wasn’t enjoying myself. I’d go back down—when I remembered how to make my arms and legs obey me.
‘Hey, Alex, your girl’s frozen,’ Hugo called helpfully, monitoring me from the top. ‘C’mon, Misty, you can do it. After all, you’re my wonderwall.’
The guys picked up the song. ‘Today is gonna be the day … ’
The other people in the leisure centre paused to listen as the quartet serenaded me, stuck on my not-so-wonderwall. Now everyone knew I was stranded.
‘Cute—but not helpful!’ I called up, my muscles beginning to shake with fatigue.
‘You’d better go back for her,’ Phil told Alex.
Did Alex huff with impatience? ‘OK, Misty, I’m coming.’
Sorry for stopping you reaching the summit, Edmund Hillary, I thought sourly. I was getting very tired just holding on. Humans aren’t made to stick to rocks; that was the province of insects and reptiles. And lichen. I tried to distract myself by thinking of all the various natural world creatures that would be happy clinging on here. Nowhere on the list was Misty Devon.
A familiar hand appeared beside mine—strong, capable.
‘Problem?’ Alex was grinning at me—that was until he saw my expression. ‘You really are stuck, aren’t you? I kinda thought you were pretending because you just wanted my company.’
‘That would’ve been nice.’ I looked up. No way. I glanced down. Oh crap. I was going to be
caught on this climbing wall for the rest of my life and all because I thought I’d impress him and he didn’t even hang around to see.
‘It’s really very simple.’
‘Says the guy with double my reach.’
‘The yellow route is for children.’
‘You’re not making me feel better here.’ If I’d had a free hand I would have hit him.
‘OK, sorry. Look, I’ll help you find the next handhold.’ He scanned the wall around me, then swung round so he was blanketing me, his arms either side of mine. He put his lips near my ear and began to sing just for me alone. ‘I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.’
Somehow he had found the one thing that would make me laugh.
He prised my fingers off the yellow lump and rubbed them to release the stiffness. ‘Now put it there. By now you should’ve somehow realized what you gotta do.’ He guided it to the next step up. His knee nudged the back of mine. ‘Bend your leg and lift it—yes that’s it. Find the grip with your toes.’
‘Maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me,’ I sang back.
‘And after all, you’re my wonderwall. That’s it: you’re doing it.’
With him beside me, I was able to continue with my snail’s-pace ascent. I had ropes and a harness but it was really his steady encouragement that kept me going.
‘That’s good. See, you’re getting there, bokkie.’
We were almost at the top.
‘OK now?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
He leaned closer, on the point of kissing me.
‘Hello? Alex, is that you up there?’ called a voice from below.
Kiss postponed, Alex looked down. ‘Johan! You’re back! Excuse me, Misty.’ Without further ado, he abseiled down, leaving me to my own devices again.
Hugo, Michael and Phil talked me up the last few holds so I reached the platform next to them. I couldn’t stand, only sit with my head on my knees murmuring ‘never again’.
Misty Falls Page 18
