HE WILL FIND YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Is that all he does?’

  ‘I’ve got one of those computer consoles. He uses that. I hear him on it a bit, but most of the time there’s nothing but silence. I’ve suggested taking him out — the cinema, the park, swimming — anything he wants. I just wanted to get him out of these four walls, but he won’t go anywhere. It means I can’t go anywhere either of course, but I’m not complaining. The woman your lot sent in here — the child shrink lady — she said the last thing he needed was any pressure to do something he didn’t want to do, so he won’t be getting that from me.’

  ‘Is that all she said?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘There was a lot more. She did up a big report. It was for Social Services but she gave me a copy, she said it might help. Just as well she did, no one else is talking to me. This report was all wordy, but she dumbed it down a little for me. Basically, all I need to understand is not to put any pressure on him. She thinks the same as me . . . that he’ll start talking when he’s ready.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So if you’re here expecting a chat with him, I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting anything to be honest. I just wanted to talk to him about what we’re doing. I want to keep him up to date at least. He doesn’t have to respond. He can just listen.’

  ‘I agree.’ Rose beamed again. ‘I’m so proud of you, Rhiannon.’ She clapped her hands as she turned to finish the tea.

  Rhiannon carried hers up the stairs. She stopped at the top. The window at the top of the landing was covered by a pulled blind, but a little light still leaked in from the sides. There were no other sources of light. All of the doors were closed bar one; that at the end hung open. This led into the very same room she had occupied just a few years earlier. Rhiannon stepped towards it but was careful to stop a few metres short. She was close enough to see in. The layout was the same as she remembered: the bed on the right with a small bedside unit next to it that almost touched the other wall. It was a box room, really. Rhiannon remembered a wardrobe on the right side, too, but that would be concealed by the open door.

  ‘Hey!’ she called out. She got the silence she expected. She leant against the wall on the left side of the landing so she had the best angle to see in. The curtains were pulled across the window, but she could see the bed. She could see the lump in it too. She reckoned it was about boy-sized. Maddie had told her he’d hidden under his covers when they had been here before. It seemed to be his place when he was scared. Rhiannon knew what that was like, to be scared and alone in that room, on that bed. She suddenly filled with emotion that turned quickly into a new determination to help this boy, to find out what had brought him here and to help him past it.

  ‘My name’s Rhiannon,’ she said. She watched and listened. There was neither movement nor sound. ‘I’m a police officer now, but I was a scared little girl once. In that room where you are.’ She paused again. Still there was no reaction. Her eyes had adjusted a little. The bedsheets looked to her to be a light grey. She thought she could see them rising and falling — just gently, but enough to confirm that someone was in there at least.

  ‘I lost someone I cared about. The last person I had in this world, really. The police, they brought me here and Rose looked after me. Just like with you. Is that what happened? Did you lose someone you care about?’

  Rhiannon slid her back down the wall until she was sitting down. She pulled her legs up so her chin could rest on her knees.

  ‘I didn’t like it here at first. I remember it was so hard. I had a nice life with my family and then suddenly I was here. I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t know Rose and I just wanted my old life back. That was all I wanted, but that wasn’t possible — that life was gone. The only time it started getting better for me was when I came to understand that. You take all the time you need here. I just came here because I wanted you to know that I am doing all I can to find out what happened to you so I can help you get your life back. Or whatever life you want. Does that sound okay?’

  Rhiannon got no response. She took the opportunity to look around. She considered getting up and walking away now, maybe she had put enough pressure on the young lad’s shoulders. But she remembered when she was here, when everyone around her was keeping her in the dark while they tried to sort out her life. She had been older than the boy in there, but she was still more capable than they gave her credit for. She didn’t want to make the same mistake.

  ‘I think I know who you are, Alex.’ She fell silent again, straining her ears for the slightest reaction or movement. There was nothing, and she continued. ‘I know you lost your mother a couple of years ago and your life can’t have been the same since.’ All of her attention now was on the rising and falling of the duvet. She waited a few more seconds and this time it did move. Something pushed upwards. The boy had sat up. When he stopped moving, she waited a little longer to see what he would do. He stayed still.

  ‘You’re Alex Thompson. You have an older brother and sister — a lot older, right? And a dad. But someone was hurt and you might have seen it. As much as I want to help you, I would love to help that person, too, Alex. If you think I can, if there’s something I can do, you need to let me know — any way you can.’

  The figure under the cover made no more movement. Rhiannon was disappointed, of course she was, but not surprised. Knowing this boy’s identity for sure would change everything for her and her investigation, but it changed very little for this boy. Whatever he had seen, whatever he had been through, nothing was going to change that. It didn’t matter who knew his name or even if someone like her thought they knew a bit more about his past. No one would ever know everything about him — about what he had been through and about how he was feeling now. That was another lesson this house had taught her. No matter what support you had around you, what promises people made, there were going to be times when you had to face up to things on your own.

  ‘I’m going to leave now, Alex, okay? But Rose downstairs, she can contact me anytime. So, if you need anything from me, or if you just want to talk, it’s never a problem. One thing you should know . . . you’re safe here, okay? You can trust me on that.’

  She got back to her feet and stepped close enough to be able to lean on the door support. The upright figure was still unmoving. She left it long enough to know that she wasn’t going to get a reaction.

  ‘And you’re not alone,’ she said into the room. She moved away. She had said enough for now. She wanted to tell him just enough that he would have a lot of questions. She hoped it would prompt him to ask them. Time would tell.

  * * *

  Jack’s watch lit up when he pushed the key into the lock of his own front door. He didn’t turn it straight away. His other hand rested on its surface and lingered on the sensation of the peeling paint, the raised bobbles under his fingertips. His mind was a blur; he couldn’t make sense of it all: what he could do next, how he could get out of this whole situation. He could think of nothing. He was desperate.

  He took one last look at the street. The rain was lighter tonight and mingled with a mist that distorted the mustard-coloured street lighting. It was as quiet as he would expect for the early hours; the only sound was the dripping of moisture from guttering and the trickle of water into the drains. He could wait no longer.

  When he closed his front door the hallway was pitch black. He didn’t push the light switch in. He had left Alyssa in bed and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb her now. He was silent as he moved up the stairs. Every step felt laboured. He couldn’t remember the last time his whole body didn’t feel drained of energy. He reached the top. The street lighting seeped through his front window sufficiently for him to move around the furniture and to the closed door of his bedroom. He stopped to listen for sounds from within, any sign that she was still awake. He’d half-expected her to be up with the television on, waiting to ask him where the hell he’d been. He still felt bad for plying her with wine and then sneaking out, b
ut there was no other way. He wouldn’t have had the answers to her questions. Now there was only silence.

  Slowly, he dipped the handle and pushed open the bedroom door. As the hinges creaked, he froze on the threshold. A gap in the curtains provided enough light for him to see her outline in the duvet. She was on her side, facing away. He could hear her breathing, long and deep. She was still asleep. He became aware of pain in his bottom lip where he was biting it so hard. He had to move forward. He walked up his side of the bed, still fixed on her outline. His foot collided with something heavy and hard and there was a loud thump as the computer tower on the floor went over. He held his breath and froze again with one knee on the bed, leaning towards her. She stirred. Her next breath was longer, her arms pushed out in a stretch, but he still didn’t think she was awake.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Her voice was croaky and soft, but to Jack it broke through the darkness like a scream. He pushed back off the bed.

  ‘Sorry, just going to the toilet.’

  Alyssa raised herself up onto her elbow. One hand swept her hair from her eyes, the other moved under her pillow. When it came back out, a bright light shone on him — the torch function on her phone. ‘You’re fully dressed, Jack, and you’re wet! What the fuck?’ Jack tried to think fast but he’d never been any good at it. ‘If you’re gonna run out on me, you should remember that this is your place!’ She rubbed her eyes, keeping the light on him. When he raised his hand to block it a little, she turned it off and sat up. ‘Did you go out?’

  ‘Yeah. I had to.’

  ‘Your devil mates?’

  ‘You need to go.’ Jack’s voice was a low monotone. He was trying almost too hard to hide any emotion.

  ‘What? Now?’ She sounded instantly angry.

  ‘I’m really sorry . . . rough night.’

  She lifted her hand to her head. ‘I’ve had quite a bit to drink. I just need to sleep it off. You can put me on the sofa if you need your bed on your own—’

  ‘It’s not that!’ He took a moment to calm himself down. ‘It’s not like that . . . I just need you to leave. I’m sorry — I know it’s odd. I’ve got the cash for a cab.’

  Her movements now were quick and agitated. She stood up out of the bed and moved to the switch on the wall. The light was sudden and it hurt his eyes. Alyssa was naked. She stared straight at him.

  ‘Do you mind? At least leave while I get dressed. You don’t get to see this anymore.’ There was nothing he could say. He moved out into the living room and stood at the window overlooking the street. The rain seemed heavier, though the mist still swirled and picked at the street lamp. There were thuds and bangs from his room. He could hardly blame her for being upset. After a short time it went quiet. Then he heard her voice from the other side of the room.

  ‘I’ll just leave then!’

  Jack didn’t turn around at first, he didn’t want to see her. ‘Okay. There’s a taxi waiting. I’m so sorry.’ He dipped his head.

  ‘You’re not even going to look at me? Why are you treating me like this, Jack? I thought this was what you wanted.’

  ‘It was.’ He turned around but took a few moments before lifting his eyes.

  ‘Was?’ she snorted. She strode the length of the flat and disappeared out of sight to the top of the stairs. He followed slowly, almost as if his legs were moving against his will. He leaned on the doorframe and resisted turning the corner to where he’d be able to see down the stairs. He could hear her though, stomping her way to the bottom. Then he heard her scream.

  There was a scuffle and the scream was quickly stifled, as if something was pushed into her mouth. There were more scuffling noises, a thud and a suppressed shout. He could only hear heavy breathing now. That was all that was left. Now he did move to look down the stairs, just as the light was clicked on. Alyssa was laid over the bottom three steps, her head over to one side, her eyes shut, her chest heaving, the man stood over her. He lifted his eyes as Jack appeared and pushed his hood back up from where it had fallen down. He was the source of the heavy breathing and his face was flushed enough to match the colour of his hair.

  Jack started down the steps. He descended the first few but felt suddenly weak, overcome. He sat down heavily and looked down at Alyssa, failing to stifle a sob. He wanted to cover his eyes or to look away, but he couldn’t; it was as if he was being forced to watch. ‘I’m so sorry!’ he spluttered. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’

  The man’s voice was deep and strong. ‘We all have a choice — the same choice. Them or you. You were very clear. Now we need to finish this.’

  The light clicked back off. The man pulled the front door open and leaned out. He paused for a moment before stepping out into the mustard hue of the night. Jack knew he would be back for Alyssa — for him as well. It took every ounce of his energy to stand. His feet felt like they were moved down the steps. His eyes were heavy, too, as he wiped at the tears he hoped wouldn’t be seen in the darkness.

  * * *

  Harry sat up in bed with his heart racing and a shrill squeal in his ears. He lashed out with a shout at the sinister bright light that pulsed in the darkness. It was his phone . . . it was ringing . . . he was alone in his bedroom. He was safe.

  The phone stopped and the darkness was complete. He swung his legs around and took a few moments. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the rhythm so strong and fast that he could hear it thumping in his ears. His breath was short. He sat up straighter to let more air in and tried to calm himself. He was used to waking up startled in the night and had been coping better. It had been a while since he’d woken and been unable to function straight away, and the nocturnal panic attacks had not been this bad since soon after the accident. He reached for his alarm clock and felt for the button on the top. A row of numbers appeared on the screen: 01:17. He suddenly remembered what had woken him up and the implied urgency at this hour was obvious.

  In his haste to reach for the phone, he knocked it from the bedside table. He stood up and clicked on the main light, squinting until he found it on the floor. The screen showed: Josh Adams — missed call. Then it beeped with a message announcing voicemail. He had to focus on his movements so he didn’t drop the phone again. The rhythm in his ears was back stronger. He pressed to listen.

  ‘Mr Blaker, sorry to bother you. I’m on my way to hospital with Mel. She’s had another one of her episodes . . . Look, I’ll give you a call when I know a bit more. She’s okay, that’s the thing. She didn’t want me to call, but I couldn’t not . . . sorry.’

  Josh was Mel’s on-off boyfriend. Harry had never approved but he had come to realise that he never would. No one was ever going to be good enough. At least Josh seemed to genuinely care about his daughter and he was worried about her tonight; that much was obvious in his voice. Harry pulled open his wardrobe, trying to work his phone at the same time to call Josh back. It went straight to voicemail. He hadn’t said to what hospital they were going but it would likely be the William Harvey at Ashford, assuming she was at home. He’d keep trying to call on the way.

  It took twenty minutes. A section of the motorway had a reduced speed limit for roadworks. He had ignored them, and the bright yellow speed cameras towering above them. He dumped his car on yellow hatchings and strode into Accident and Emergency, knowing it to be the only area that was manned twenty-four-seven.

  ‘Can I help?’

  Harry lifted his warrant card, thinking it might skip some of the formalities. ‘Melissa Blaker. I think she was just brought in here by ambulance.’

  ‘Okay.’ The woman behind the desk looked expectant.

  ‘I need to see her.’

  ‘I’m sure you do. I can’t just let you through. What are the circumstances? I’m supposed to assist the medical staff with preventing police officers hindering any treat—’

  ‘I’m her father.’ He lifted his warrant again, pointing at the bit with his name and face on it. ‘Blaker, see? I’m not here on official business. I just need t
o see my daughter.’

  The woman fixed him with an exasperated look. ‘That makes more sense.’ She fidgeted on her computer. ‘Yeah, she came in half an hour ago. She’s in an obs room. I’ll have someone come through for you if you’d like to take a seat.’

  Harry pushed away from the desk and turned to the waiting area. He had attracted some attention. Most of the seated patrons were looking over. A lot of them turned away instantly, their attention dropping back to their phones. He considered he had been loud and forgotten his surroundings. He didn’t care. He couldn’t sit down. Instead, he leaned against a wall close to the hatch through which he had just spoken. He got some further looks of exasperation from the woman behind the counter but he didn’t care about that either. It was just a few minutes before a young lad in dark blue scrubs stopped next to him, his plimsolls squelching on the rubber floor. Harry read Stephen on his name badge.

  ‘Mr Blaker? Would you like to follow me?’

  Melissa was sitting up in a hospital bed wearing a white vest, her right arm supported by a couple of pillows and bandaged from wrist to elbow. The bandage was tinged with scarlet that was turning brown as it dried. Josh stood up when Harry entered.

  ‘Jesus, Melissa,’ Harry uttered.

  ‘I’ll get you that tea,’ Josh said. ‘Can I get you anything, Mr Blaker?’ Harry didn’t reply; his attention still fixed on his daughter. He heard the curtain swish back where Josh left. Stephen in the scrubs said he would give them a few minutes and then pop back.

  ‘I didn’t want you told.’ Melissa hadn’t looked up yet. She seemed to be staring at her bandage.

  ‘What happened?’ Harry concentrated on keeping his voice low. It still came out as a growl like it always did.