Chapters (68)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
‘Come on, come on!’ He spoke at the phone but lashed out at the television that was still showing the same footage on a loop in Glenn’s living room. It was back to the point where it showed him lingering on the threshold, where he had first seen Danny Evans. He felt like screaming at the image, at himself: Turn around! Don’t! But all he could do was turn it off. Now the television showed the live version of himself as a reflection. His eyes were wide and panicked, his mouth hanging open ready to shoot with words the moment the damned phone was answered. And, just over his shoulder, he could see his best mate slumped over in his favourite chair while his blood dripped a rhythm into the carpet.
‘Dad?’ Colin said as he answered the phone, instantly sounding a combination of hassled and bored.
‘Colin! Thomas, where is he? Where’s Thomas, Colin? I need you to check!’
‘Jesus, Dad, what’s the matter with you?’
‘Where is he? You need to call his school! Call his school, do it now and make sure he’s OK. I can wait.’
‘Call the … Dad, he’s here, OK! He’s right here, helping me with the classic. His dorm’s sorted but his term doesn’t start again until the middle of the week so I thought, you know, after what you said, I thought maybe—’
‘He’s there! He’s there with you now and he’s safe?’
‘What the hell is going on, Dad? You sound stressed out?’
‘No … I’m OK … Sorry, Colin, bad dream …’ Richard broke off to catch a sob before it could escape down the phone. ‘Look after the boy, OK?’ It was all he could manage before cutting the call. His whole body slumped, like the tension had been the only thing holding him upright. He had to catch himself on his elbows for fear of collapsing to the carpet. It took all his strength just to get back to sitting up. He picked up the black folder again, opening it back to the page where his grandson’s name appeared. He held it on his lap, screwing the page to turn it with one hand. The next read:
LEAVE NOW. TOUCH NOTHING.
YOU COMMITTED MURDER. THE FOOTAGE YOU CAN SEE WILL PUT YOU IN PRISON FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL LIFE. THAT LEAVES ME OUT HERE WITH ONLY THOMAS TO ANSWER FOR YOUR LOOSE TONGUE.
THIS IS HOW YOU STAY FREE. THIS IS HOW YOU KEEP THOMAS SAFE.
LEAVE AND NEVER SPEAK OF THIS TO ANYONE AGAIN.