No Other Darkness

by Sarah Hilary

  Carmen kicked her foot at them. ‘Go ’way.’

  Debbie said, ‘Okay. But first we’re going to call your mum and let her know you’ve drawn this great picture. She’s going to love it.’

  Carmen’s scowl darkened. She hunched away, keeping under the table when Noah straightened, nodding at Debbie to stay with the girl.

  ‘I don’t know how she got in here …’ Cole was blushing to the tips of his ears.

  ‘We’re looking for her brother, Tommy. Is he here in the house too?’

  ‘I know Tommy.’ Cole shook his head. ‘I haven’t had the chance to look. I only just this second got home. The front door was locked. I’ve no idea how she got in.’

  ‘Is this yours?’ Noah held out the doll they’d taken from Clancy’s bedroom.

  ‘Yes.’ Cole looked bewildered. ‘Where did you find her?’

  ‘At number 14. You said your door was locked when you got home. Who else has a key?’

  ‘No one.’ Cole hesitated, shifting inside his suit. ‘Well, only Terry, but that’s for the garden. It’s a back door key.’

  Noah crossed the kitchen to the back door, testing the handle.

  The door was locked.

  Carmen was cuddled in Debbie’s lap, her eyes filmy with sleep and the secret of what had happened in the hours since she disappeared with her brother.

  ‘Call the station,’ Noah told Debbie. ‘Let them know what’s happening.’

  He nodded at Cole. ‘Let’s look for Tommy.’

  • • •

  No sign of Thomas Doyle in the sitting room, where the dolls and monkeys stared back at Noah empty-eyed. No sign of the boy in any of the rooms downstairs.

  They climbed to the first floor, Noah keeping Cole in his sights.

  ‘Terry does your garden. Does he know about the bunker under the shed? You told DI Rome and me that no one knew, but did Terry?’

  Cole hesitated, then nodded. ‘I didn’t want to get him into trouble. He’s the only friendly face on this road, the only one with any time for me.’

  ‘Have you seen him today?’

  ‘No, not in a few days. He’s at the safe house, isn’t he? The one you put him in.’

  ‘He was,’ Noah said. ‘Now he’s missing. Like his children.’

  Nothing in the rooms on the first floor.

  They started up the stairs to the attic.

  Cole said, ‘Where did you find her?’ He meant the doll.

  ‘In Clancy’s bedroom.’

  Cole shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘You didn’t give the doll to Clancy?’

  ‘No, of course not. Why would I?’

  ‘Why would you …?’

  They reached the attic room.

  The door was open, letting out a dim slice of light.

  Silence from inside.

  ’That’s not right,’ Cole said. ‘I keep this door shut. There are valuables in here …’ He started towards the room.

  Noah put a hand on his arm to stop him. ‘Wait here.’

  He pushed the door wide, and went into the attic.

  Cole’s valuables were stacked neatly and obsessively everywhere in the room. On shelves built into the eaves and in crates on the floor. Pristine action figures in unopened boxes, dolls behind cellophane, untouched, never played with.

  ‘Oh dear. Oh no …’

  Behind Noah, Cole started to sob softly.

  He’d seen what Noah was seeing.

  Curled on the floor among the torn packaging from printed boxes, clutching Obi-Wan Kenobi in a small fist, sleep sticking his hair to his forehead: Tommy Doyle.

  21

  Ron punched the whiteboard with a broad grin. ‘About time we had some good news!’

  ‘Both children? And they’re unhurt?’ Marnie held the phone to her ear, listening to Noah. ‘What about Clancy, and Terry?’ And Ed.

  ‘No sign of anyone else,’ Noah said. ‘Sorry … The kids are okay. A doctor checked them over. They’re a bit dehydrated, but that’s all.’

  ‘Who took them to Cole’s house, have they been able to tell you that?’

  ‘Not yet, but Debbie’s with Carmen. She’ll find out what happened, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Good. Meanwhile we need to find Clancy, and Terry.’ And Ed.

  Marnie glanced at the interview room, where Adam was still sitting, waiting for her to tell him he could go home.

  ‘Bring Mr Cole to the station,’ she told Noah. ‘We need to ask him some questions, starting with what it’s like to be Buried.’

  • • •

  Under the yellow light in the interview room, Douglas Cole looked jaundiced, all trace of pinkness gone from his round face. He sipped at the cup of tea Marnie had handed to him. ‘I didn’t know. About Carmen and Tommy being in my house. I didn’t know.’

  ‘You knew about Ian Merrick,’ Noah said. ‘You were part of the same society.’

  ‘Buried.’ Cole nodded. ‘It’s an historical society. We’re interested in derelict parts of London. I told you about it the last time we talked.’

  ‘Where does the society meet?’

  ‘Different places. Usually in the library, after hours. We met in the church once, and in the community centre up on the estate. Just wherever we can get together.’

  ‘Who else is in the society?’

  ‘Oh there’s quite a few of us. Some of the older gents from the estate who’ve been there donkey’s years … Ladies, too. But it tends to be men. Me and Terry, and Ian Merrick. Anyone who’s interested in history, and London.’

  ‘The trouble is,’ Marnie said, ‘we don’t think Ian Merrick’s much of an historian.’

  ‘He was interested in the places we were recording. Really interested. I thought he was a kindred spirit.’ Cole shook his head in defeat. ‘But you’re right. He isn’t an historian.’

  ‘He was looking for sites to buy and sell. Underground sites. Places with tunnels and bunkers. Like Beech Rise.’

  Cole nodded miserably. ‘Yes, he was.’

  ‘How many sites like that exist across London?’ Noah asked.

  ‘No one knows for certain. We keep finding more all the time. We know some of the numbers, for instance the bunkers built by the Royal Observer Corp, mostly during the Cold War, although some much earlier than that.’ He sat up straight. ‘There are one thousand five hundred and sixty-four ROC bunkers across London. That’s the tip of the iceberg, really. So much of this building was secret, you see. And a lot of it’s managed to stay secret.’

  ‘Did you know about the bunkers when you bought number 8?’

  ‘Not then,’ Cole said. ‘Ian told me just after the sale went through. He pretended I’d known about them all along, but I hadn’t and he knew I hadn’t. I suppose … he was blackmailing me. He wanted to find other sites, places the society knew about. He wanted to know before anyone else.’ He neatened his hair with his hand. ‘Once I realised what he was up to, I wanted it to stop. He wasn’t doing anything illegal, but I wanted him out of the society. He said if I did that, he’d tell people about the bunker in my back garden. People would draw their own conclusions, he said, as to why I wanted a house with a ruddy big cement tomb in the garden. Those were his exact words.’

  Cole’s mouth turned down like a child’s. ‘He called me “the Collector”, said the papers would call me worse. I knew he was right, because of what happened with Lizzie Fincher. Even your boss thinks I’m strange. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had me down as a suspect for those poor little boys Terry found …’

  ‘They were his boys,’ Marnie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Terry’s real name is Matt Reid. He knew about the bunkers when he bought the house. His ex-wife worked for Ian Merrick.’

  ‘His boys?’ Cole looked dazed, distraught. ‘Terry’s boys?’

  ‘He changed his identity after his wife killed their children. She was suffering from post-partum psychosis. She put the boys in the bunker, meaning them to be safe. Te
rry spent years looking for them. We think he followed the trail from his wife’s job with Merrick; that he found out about the underground sites Merrick was selling.’

  Marnie paused, watching Cole’s face. ‘You didn’t know any of this?’

  ‘No, no …’ Tears made Cole’s stare swim. ‘Poor Terry. That poor man …’

  ‘We think he panicked when he heard his ex-wife was being paroled. That’s when he opened the bunker and called the police. We think he was scared she was going to return to the place where she put the boys, not knowing that he was living there with a new family.’

  ‘The woman in the other interview room,’ Cole said nervously. ‘That was his wife?’

  Marnie didn’t answer the question.

  ‘Then,’ she said, ‘Carmen and Tommy went missing. With Clancy, or at least that’s how it looked. But then Terry went missing, too. With a victim care officer. We don’t know how the children ended up in your house, Mr Cole. Can you help us make sense of that?’

  ‘I … can’t. I had no idea they were there, or how they got in. I’d never have left children alone in there, especially not the attic. Tommy’s made a terrible mess of it. Not that it matters as long as he’s safe, but you have to see none of it was my idea. It’s not a safe house for children to be alone in. Some of those toys are very old. They have sharp edges, lead paint … Thank goodness he didn’t find any of those.’ His hands flustered then settled around the cup of tea. ‘It’s why I took Lizzie on the tube. Because I knew it wasn’t safe inside the house. I know it sounds funny, with all the toys and whatnot, but they’re not to be played with.’

  ‘Did Terry know about your collection?’

  ‘Yes, he’d seen it. He wouldn’t have let the children play in the house, I’m sure of that. He was extremely safety-conscious. Extremely.’

  ‘But he had a key to the back door.’

  ‘Yes, so he could make himself a cup of tea when he was doing the garden.’

  ‘The doll,’ Marnie said, ‘that we found in Clancy’s room. Can you tell us about that?’

  ‘Her name’s Sophie and she’s French.’ Cole’s smile crumpled. ‘But you don’t mean that, of course. You mean can I tell you how she ended up in a teenage boy’s bedroom. No, is the answer, I can’t. I wish I could. She went missing about three months ago.’

  ‘From where?’ Marnie asked. ‘The house, or the bunker?’

  Cole swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘From the house.’

  ‘And only Terry has a key.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you must have assumed that Terry took it. Her.’

  ‘No.’ Cole shook his head emphatically. ‘I never thought for a second that it was Terry. He wouldn’t do a thing like that. I assumed it was the boy, Clancy. He came round sometimes, with Terry, to help in the garden. Terry tried to get him interested in doing some hard work. The boy didn’t want to know, not really. He’s at that age, I suppose.’

  ‘You didn’t challenge him about the doll? Or speak to Terry about it?’

  ‘I didn’t want to make a fuss. I could see how he was trying with the boy. Fostering’s hard enough without worrying about things like petty theft. Poor old Sophie isn’t worth anything to anyone else but me. She’s just a pocket-money toy.’

  ‘Why would a teenage boy take a doll?’ Noah asked.

  Cole shook his head. ‘You’ve seen my house. There’s not much else to take. I expect he wanted a souvenir. It’s how I started collecting. Buying souvenirs from the strange places my parents used to take me.’

  ‘Buying,’ Marnie said, ‘not stealing.’

  ‘He’s a strange boy. But I don’t think he’s bad, not really. Just unsettled. Feeling a bit unloved, in spite of Terry’s best efforts.’ Cole put down the tea. ‘He’s ever so good with the little ones. They worship him, Carmen and Tommy. He’s like their big brother. Of course,’ he added, ‘I didn’t see them together all that often, and never without Terry there. He’s always so careful with them. He must’ve been out of his mind with worry when they ran off.’

  ‘What do you think happened? You have a theory, I’m sure. Can you share it with us?’

  ‘I don’t know anything for certain, really I don’t. I’d help if I could. That poor family …’

  ‘But you have a theory.’ Marnie smiled encouragement at him. ‘You’ve seen the children with their father, and with Clancy. You’ve seen the family. Terry’s a part of your society.’

  ‘Yes … he joined as soon as they moved to Beech Rise.’

  ‘Did he and Merrick get on?’

  Cole sipped at his tea, considering the question. ‘I can’t say they did, and I can’t say they didn’t. Ian was always a bit funny around Terry. A bit … careful, I suppose you’d say. I suppose it was because he gave Terry some gardening work from time to time. And on Blackthorn Road, of course, when the houses were first going up. Terry did all the gardens in the road, except Ian wouldn’t pay extra for decent soil or plants. That’s why most of us asked Terry to sort out the gardens properly, after we moved in.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if they got on very well,’ Noah said. ‘Ian and Terry.’

  ‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. I’m not terribly good at judging social situations. I’m much happier taking the minutes, keeping accounts, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Did you meet Clancy’s parents?’ Marnie asked. ‘Scott and Christina Brand?’

  Cole shook his head. ‘But I heard Terry talk about them a couple of times.’ His brow creased. ‘Or it might’ve been Ian, since he built a panic room for them. He was very proud of that. Personally, I’d have opposed the planning permission. They live in a listed house, early Georgian, lots of original features by all accounts. But Ian was happy to tear up the cellars and run ventilation pipes around the place.’ He shook his head. ‘That was when I first challenged him about what he was up to, using Buried to find places he could exploit …’

  ‘You didn’t think it was odd that Terry was looking after Clancy? The Brands obviously have a lot of money. More than the Doyles.’

  ‘Money’s a funny thing,’ Cole said. ‘Look how I spend mine … What that boy needed was a proper home with people who cared for him. You can’t fault Terry on that score. He worked so hard to make Clancy feel wanted. And they got on well, the little ones and Clancy … It was harder for Terry, with the discipline and everything.’

  ‘Discipline?’

  ‘Rules and boundaries, you know the sort of thing. I imagine teenagers need a lot of that.’

  ‘Was Terry very strict with Clancy and the other children?’

  ‘He was … careful, I’d say. Always very careful with all the children. He wanted them to learn life skills. Grow their own food, fend for themselves … He taught Clancy to look out for the little ones, be a good big brother. It paid off, too. I never saw a teenage boy so protective of babies, never mind how typical he was in other ways.’

  Fend for themselves.

  The way Fred and Archie Reid were made to, in the last days of their lives.

  Marnie said, ‘What do you think happened earlier today? How did the children end up in your house? We realise you don’t know, but what’s your theory?’

  Cole sat up straight in the chair, feet together, like a schoolchild wanting to give the right answer. ‘I think Clancy brought the children to my house. I think he borrowed the key from Terry and let himself in, and left the children there. I don’t know why. I don’t know where he is now, or where Terry is. I wish I did.’

  ‘If Clancy did that … if he was hiding the children … what was he hiding them from?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t imagine. I can’t think of any family that’s closer or happier or safer than Terry’s. That’s why it makes no sense.’ Cole spread his hands. ‘It just makes no sense.’

  22

  You can smell him.

  You smelt the same once. Scared. Leaking sweat and fear.

  You’re sorry for him, somewhere under ev
erything else.

  But if he’s hurt them, you’ll kill him.

  After everything you’ve done, all the lessons you drummed into him, the chances you gave him, the love.

  Too much love.

  He’s had enough from you. Enough chances to grow up and be a man.

  You trusted him, because trust is important. You opened your home to him when he was a stranger, someone else’s problem. What were you thinking, really?

  Did Esther teach you nothing?

  You were trying to be a better man, a better father than you were for Fred and Archie, and Louisa. You were trying to be strong, to take care of them. To prove you could do that this time. But if they’re not safe, what’s it all for?

  If he’s hurt them, you’ll kill him.

  No more chances, no more lessons.

  ‘You could have someone’s eye out with this.’

  Doesn’t he know how dangerous the world is?

  He cuts up apples and leaves the knife on the draining board.

  He takes the safety covers off plug sockets and forgets to put them back.

  The wire coat hanger was the worst, though.

  A wire coat hanger.

  After everything you’d taught him. As if he was deliberately trying to provoke you, the way he does with his words, his eyes. You tolerated that, but this?

  You had to show him enough was enough. You had to make him understand, in the way you never understood, before Esther. It’s for his own good, as well as theirs.

  If he’s hurt them, you’ll kill him.

  You wouldn’t hit a woman (couldn’t hit a woman), but he’s nearly a man and he can take care of himself, in a way you never could at his age.

  You taught him to do that.

  They send boys as young as ten to prison. He’s nearly fifteen, and he’s not been a child in years. You saw it in his eyes, the first time you met.

  You cut him slack, a lot of it, because of those parents of his, but this is different.

  This is your family.

  If he’s hurt them, he’s dead.

  23

  Beth Doyle came into the station with Debbie Tanner. Carmen and Tommy were at their auntie’s house, with Beth’s sister. Neither child seemed traumatised, although Carmen still wouldn’t talk about what had happened between the park and Douglas Cole’s house, not even to confirm whether it was Clancy who took them to number 8.