Light Up the Dark

by Suki Fleet

  Loz tried to sit up, but the world swung and tilted like a giant seesaw and the grass came up to meet Loz’s face at speed.

  “Are you drunk?” Police Guy crouched down. He had small eyes. In this light they were black. Loz didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust anyone. “If you want to speak to Michaels, you’re going to have to give me your name.”

  What choice did that leave? “Loz.”

  “Surname?”

  “Blake.”

  Police Guy spoke into his radio again. All Loz could hear was static. He turned to Pissed Parental Guy. “You can go inside now, sir. I’ll take care of it from here.” He watched as the guy went back into his house. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Loz before tromping across the grass in his big black boots to his lit-up car.

  He returned with a blanket. “Here. Wrap this around yourself, and we’ll get you down to the station where someone can see if Michaels is available.”

  Desperately, Loz ran a hand through their hair. No. That was going to take too long. Soph needed help now, not in a few hours.

  A car screamed around the corner. The bang that followed made them both jump. Loz spun around to see a small black car had slammed into the back of the stationary police vehicle, sending it flying forwards.

  Police Guy sprang to his feet. “What the hell!”

  The door to the black car swung open and a woman in a long dark coat and shiny heels climbed out.

  She smiled widely and flashed her police badge. Then she bent down and casually stabbed something into the rear wheel of his police car. The tyre deflated.

  Vivian?

  The stunned look on Police Guy’s face was almost comical. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Loz would have laughed if they had any idea what was going on.

  “Following a lead. And I’m not about to let this police force mess it up like last time,” Vivian said as she stalked across the grass to where Loz was lying.

  Several people in nearby houses had pushed back their curtains and were staring out their windows. Police Guy stared. Loz stared. Vivian’s wild red hair was an entity in its own right.

  “It’s Loz, right? An abduction was mentioned when this was called in,” she said in a low voice. “I’m here to help you. What happened?”

  “Soph.” Loz couldn’t get any other words out.

  Vivian held out her hand. Loz took it even though whatever Vivian had stabbed the tyres with was likely still in the pocket of her coat. As inexplicable as it seemed, Loz trusted her. Vivian had given them the CCTV footage. She didn’t seem to have an agenda, not like Michaels—she hadn’t asked anything of Loz. And she’d drove her car like some furious angel.

  “Soph’s been abducted. You need to find her. It was the same Jag from the CCTV of the flat fire.”

  Putting an arm around Loz’s back, Vivian helped Loz back to her little car. Glass from more than one broken headlight sparkled on the ground, and the bonnet was severely wrinkled.

  Behind them Police Guy demanded answers and threatened to get Vivian chucked off the force, in between speaking loudly into his radio for backup.

  Seeming completely unperturbed, Vivian started the engine. She lifted her hand and waved as they roared past.

  Police Guy glared after them.

  “I need you to tell me everything, Loz,” Vivian said as they sped down the estate’s narrow roads, a single headlight lighting their way.

  Loz told her all that had happened that afternoon.

  “And the Jag was on the CCTV? Are you sure it was the same one?” Vivian asked.

  “Yeah. Nicky watched it over and over. Said it belonged to someone he knew. Said they’d died. I don’t think he thought it was a coincidence….” Loz shrugged helplessly. “What would someone want with Soph?”

  “I don’t know, Loz. We’ll do everything we can. Is Nicky a friend?”

  “Someone we’ve been staying with. With Cai.”

  “Cai, Sophie’s guardian? The arsonist?” Vivian asked.

  “He’s not an arsonist! The flat wasn’t him. Someone set him up. What if it’s all connected?”

  Loz’s stomach tightened when Vivian didn’t dispute it.

  “We have to find her.” Loz swallowed, eyes burning. Suddenly it was all too real again. “I need to phone Cai, but my phone’s dead and I can’t remember his number.”

  “Any idea where he might be?”

  “He said to meet him at the library after school. To not go back to the house. I don’t know why.”

  “What house?”

  “Thorn Hall. It’s where we’ve been staying with Nicky.”

  “Do you know the way?”

  Loz nodded.

  “Then that’s where we’re going to start. Pass me that siren, would you.” Vivian directed Loz to the chipped blue glass light on the floor in the back.

  With the light flashing on top of the car and the siren whining, they parted the traffic, speeding through the town in minutes.

  Eyes squeezed shut, Loz took a breath. They were doing everything they could. Going to Thorn Hall was The Plan. Focus. “Are you allowed to do all that blues-and-twos stuff for, you know, this? Are we… an emergency?”

  Vivian gave a tight nod. “Yeah. I wish we weren’t, but yeah.”

  Forehead resting against the cool glass, Loz watched the blur of houses thin, until bricks turned into hedgerows. As she drove, Vivian put out a description of Soph, then the Jag over her radio.

  The rooftops of Thorn Hall would soon loom on the horizon. Loz searched for them, trying not to think. But even the silence led back to Soph. It was hopeless. “Are you going to arrest Cai? For the fire?”

  “No. I’m not interested in arresting Cai. But I can’t promise he won’t be arrested.”

  “Do you think he told Soph not to go back there because something happened?”

  “I don’t know what to think right now. We should check out the house and go from there.”

  “You don’t trust Michaels, do you?” Loz asked after a moment, realising Vivian hadn’t called in asking someone to let him know what was going on, even though Loz was his contact and not hers.

  Vivian sighed. “It’s not about whether I trust him or not. It’s about stopping anyone else getting hurt. As soon as we find anything, I’ll call him in. I just don’t want the rest of the police charging in and destroying any leads we get before we have a chance to check them out.”

  “Because this has something to do with the murders.” Loz’s voice trembled as they said the words. Desperate not to cry, Loz drew a sleeve across their eyes and gave a shaky-sounding sniff. Pull it together. “I mean, that’s why you’re here. That’s why you came so quickly. You think there’s a connection with Grey Matthews’ sister going missing and Soph. You said Jordan was your case first.”

  “We’re going to find her, Loz. I swear.”

  “Why d’you care so much about this case?”

  “You mean because it’s not my case to care about any more?” Vivian glanced at Loz, then turned her gaze back to the road. “That wasn’t my choice. Two years ago, when I was heading up the murder investigation, we all thought we were getting somewhere. Each victim had a different MO but still there seemed to be a link. There had to be. We were all sure of it. I was working undercover as a bar manager in a club that I was sure was involved somehow. Someone was paying the club owner off. I knew I was close. But then this newbie college graduate comes along with his pop psychology profiling and his statistic sheets, the same day as a witness comes forwards saying they’d seen Nigel Commador being dragged into a car, and suddenly, we have one suspect—who has a rock-solid alibi for all the other murders—a newbie who comes up with some bullshit but absolutely convincing case that all the murder victims were killed by different killers and, boom, my whole case collapses.”

  “Michaels?”

  “Yeah, Michaels. And the night my undercover was pulled another victim was taken. A victim I knew could be in danger. He was wor
king as a dancer at the club that night. I could have saved him. We didn’t even know what had happened until the police were called when the club owner keeled over with a heart attack and a bar worker mentioned one of the dancers hadn’t been seen for a few days.”

  The hollow feeling wouldn’t stop expanding in Loz’s chest. Please be okay, Soph. Please be okay. “The guy who went to prison for Nigel Commador’s murder, who was he? I don’t remember hearing about it.” The family—Patsy mainly—didn’t really concentrate on anything that didn’t involve Jordan.

  “Benoit Du Vey. It was kept very quiet. His family have a few connections.”

  “How long did he get?”

  “Not long enough. There were appeals. Like the others, Nigel’s body has never been found, and Benoit was convicted on the evidence of one witness who has since withdrawn their statement. He was released a few weeks ago.”

  Things were starting to make an awful sort of sense. Benoit’s release was likely what had drawn Vivian back to the case. Loz took in shaky breath after shaky breath.

  Spotting the driveway ahead, Loz said, “Turn here.”

  Vivian switched the lights off and the little car rattled its way down the rutted track.

  “Stop.” Loz’s heartbeat throbbed in their ears. Up ahead, Cai’s white van was parked at a skewed angle across the drive, tyres deep in the gravel, as though it had skidded to a halt. But that wasn’t what made Loz dizzy with dread. In front of the house sat the Jag, along with another shinier-looking car. “That’s it. That’s the car that was following us.”

  Vivian picked up her radio. Gripping it so tightly the bones of her knuckles were stark in the gloom, she said, “I’ve got something. I need Michaels and his team here, now.”

  She turned to Loz. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to make sure it’s okay.”

  Run, Cai

  The moment Nicky walked away from him, knocking chairs over, then slamming the study door—putting himself in as much danger as he possibly could—something inside Cai snapped in two. He was running before he realised what his legs were doing.

  Nicky was in that house alone, shouting as though he wanted to call all the devils in hell to him, and Cai needed to get in there. Needed to be there to protect him. From himself if no one else.

  By the time he reached the back of the house Cai could hardly see straight with the pain in his head. He skidded across the rain-soaked grass onto the patio and rammed his shoulder into the French doors. They were unlocked and Cai fell through onto the tiled floor. The impact was like an axe being buried in his skull and for a few seconds he couldn’t move with the agony.

  Nicky. Soph. Get up!

  Cai forced himself onto his knees, then his feet, and staggered on. Light flickered from the direction of the entrance hall as Cai hurried down the corridor towards the study. The only sound was his heavy boots thumping against the floorboards. Not even the lingering echo of Nicky’s yells filled the air.

  He called Nicky’s name. But only once. As soon as he spoke, the sound was swallowed by the house, leaving a silence greater than there had been before. An emptiness Cai was barely surviving.

  Nicky, where are you? Where the hell are you?

  The pain in his head was blinding as he stumbled into the entrance hall. The place where he’d had been shot. The stairs where Fox Mask and Claudette had stood. He froze.

  Whoever was here now would have at least one gun.

  Cai had nothing. No weapon. Nothing to defend himself or Nicky except his fists, and he wasn’t exceptionally good at using those.

  But he’d frightened Cyril with his hedge trimmer. And he had other tools in his van.

  And there was a gun in there too.

  The one he’d taken from Fox Mask that night. He’d tried so hard not to think about it that he’d almost forgotten it was in there.

  But getting to the van would take minutes. Minutes Cai was terrified were too many to lose.

  His hands curled into fists but he was already clutching onto something tightly and it felt as though he was about to crush it. When he looked down he saw there was a phone in his hand. He pressed a button on the side and the screen lit up.

  Standing on the dark threshold to the entrance hall, he stared at it. Adrenaline still pumping. The silence rang in his ears.

  Call the fucking police. That had been last thing Nicky said to him. It was the only weapon he had. Cai dialled the emergency services.

  A wave of pain caused him to reach out and place his hand on the wall to steady himself. He brought the phone to his ear and stared up the grand staircase, at the darkness of the floor above. He could hardly move.

  “Police,” he said when the operator answered. He wasn’t even listening to what they were saying.

  “Help me. Please,” he said. “I’m at Thorn Hall.”

  “There’s been an abduction. A murder.”

  Leaving the phone still connected, a voice talking on the end of the line, he yelled up into the black with the last strength that he had, “Cyril. Cyril Du Vey.” The darkness swam before his eyes. “They’re coming for you.”

  He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He didn’t hear any warning of the blow when it came. Cai slumped forwards, and all the lights blinked out.

  You’re stronger than you think, Nicky

  Heart pounding, Nicky raced up the back staircase. The first-floor corridor expanded blackly before him when he reached the top. He stopped. He hadn’t been upstairs in the house since the ambulance had taken Lance away.

  Nicky closed his eyes. The weight of the place, of everything that had happened here, threatened to crush him.

  You can never leave, Nicky.

  Downstairs, Cai yelled his name. Because of course Cai, the stubborn bastard, would come after him. Nicky held onto the sound. Onto the feelings Cai had awoken in him. The certainty that now filled his chest whenever Cai was close. He would do this. For him. He had to.

  Call the police and get out, Cai. Please get out.

  Gritting his teeth, Nicky faced the darkness.

  It was going to end. Tonight.

  Sophie and Cai and Loz were going to be okay. And if Nicky wasn’t leaving, then he was taking this fucking house down with him somehow.

  Trailing his hand along the wall, he crept forwards, listening for the smallest sound. The tiniest clue to where Sophie could be. Nicky was certain she would be in one of the rooms on this floor somewhere.

  He didn’t even know where the stairs that led to the top corridor were. Another way Lance had ensured Nicky would never discover Claudette’s prison.

  Claudette was his ghost. And perhaps Nicky had been her ghost too. The big empty house was just a big empty house with no one to haunt it.

  Nicky froze. There was a whisper of movement to his right. Someone inching carefully down the corridor. Someone too unaware of the space they took up in the world to be silent. It wasn’t Lance. Nicky had heard Lance moving around in the dark often enough to know.

  His stomach twisted. Please get out, Cai, he pleaded again.

  He held his breath as whoever it was creaked their way quickly down the back staircase behind him. Only when he was sure they were gone did he start moving.

  Dread filled his bones as he realised he’d almost reached Lance’s quarters. He stopped outside. He supposed it would be fitting if this was where Lance was waiting for him.

  Without allowing himself any time to think or hesitate, he felt for the door frame; then he gripped the door handle and silently pushed open the door.

  From one darkness, he fell straight into another. He wasn’t alone. Shallow breaths sounded from the other side of the room. Nicky waited, hardly daring to breathe. They must know he was there. They must have heard him. All at once someone gave a muffled yelp. It sounded like a cry for help.

  Sophie? Was she alone? No one else was making a sound.

  Nicky dropped to the floor. He’d spent a long time in this room, in the dark. He had an advantage. Re
aching out his hand, he felt for the legs of the chair he knew sat just inside the door. Next to it stood a wardrobe, thin as a grandfather clock, then a dresser with a big ugly metal vase on top of it. An old silver lighter used to sit next to a box of candles inside one of the dresser’s drawers. There was no reason anyone would have moved it.

  Soundlessly, Nicky felt his way along the floor to the dresser and opened the drawer. With trembling hands, he flicked the lighter. The lighter sparked but didn’t ignite, but for the barest moment the room flicked into view. The room Lance had died in. The room Nicky had been dying in. He shrugged off the dull weight of memories, shook the lighter and tried again.

  He glanced first at the bed next to the tall rectangular window. But it was stripped and empty. Then his gaze drifted to the sofa at the end of the bed, where he saw a someone was restrained with a bed sheet, a piece of ripped fabric shoved in their mouth. Sophie. Heart thundering, Nicky quickly looked around to make sure they were alone and no one was about to hit him with something hard, and then he rushed over to untie her.

  The second Sophie was free of her restraints, she threw her arms around him and sobbed. Nicky hugged her back tight. A month ago he couldn’t have imagined willingly hugging anyone. Now look at me go, he thought wryly.

  The light from the lighter wavered. It was running out of fluid. He flicked the lid shut and folded Sophie’s fingers around it. She needed it more than him. Light was security.

  “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “If you were, you’d probably know,” he whispered back reassuringly. “I’m going to get you out of here but we need to be quiet, okay? Was there anyone else with you? Loz?”

  “No, Loz is….” Sophie stifled a sob. “Loz isn’t here.” Nicky found her hand and squeezed. He desperately hoped nothing bad had happened to Loz. But they needed to concentrate on getting away from the house before they could help anyone else. “There were two of them. Two men. One was in a suit and he went… he went downstairs, I think, just before you got here. He wanted to teach Cai a lesson for interfering, he said.”

  Nicky helped Sophie to her feet. “I want you to get under the dresser over here and wait for me. I’m not going far. I’m going to take a look in the corridor and see if it’s saf—”