Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Part IAnnie
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Part IIHarry
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Part IIIAnnie
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part IVHarry
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Part VAnnie
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Linwood Barclay
- About the Publisher
The basement seemed like a good place to start. There was a couch, a rowing machine, bookcases loaded with old sets of encyclopedias, a large TV, and the videocassette recorder June had mentioned. Atop the TV was a stack of VHS tapes. Three Die Hard movies, some James Bond flicks, and a number of cassettes that had been used to tape programs. Labels taped to the side indicated, in marker, what shows had been recorded, including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The X Files, and Beverly Hills 90210. In a box tucked behind the set Harry found the porn stash.
No trains.
He came back upstairs, checked in on June, who was snoring, and went up to the second floor to find Delbert’s bedroom. There wasn’t much there Harry wouldn’t have expected to find. Some Penthouse magazines, a few paperback novels based on Star Trek, clothing, shoes, a stack of textbooks in the closet left over from high school days.
And again, nothing that might have come from Choo-Choo’s Trains.
Harry told himself he shouldn’t be surprised. His theory was too outlandish to be serious. What Lucknow had endured, he was coming to accept, was a series of bizarre, tragic events that had nothing to do with one another.
There was a door to the garage off the kitchen. In there, Harry found the red Torino and a VW Golf, presumably the mother’s car. He hoped she wasn’t doing any driving these days, considering how hard she was hitting the bottle. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for the car when he was driving around town.
Harry gave both vehicles, which were unlocked, a quick search. Not a caboose to be found.
He checked in on June before leaving. She was out cold, snoring, her head resting at an awkward angle on the cushion. He quietly slipped out the front door.
Harry was getting back into his car when he noticed something.
Smoke.
It was rising from a basement window of the house next to the Dorfman residence. The base of the window, which consisted of two panes with a bar down the middle, was at ground level. One pane had been slid behind the other, and the smoke was wafting out through the screen.
It wasn’t a lot of smoke. But for all Harry knew, if this was the early stages of a fire, those wisps of smoke would soon turn into billows.
He ran first to the window, went down on one knee, and peered inside, but it was too dark to make anything out. But he did hear something.
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
“Hello!” he shouted.
There was no reply. Just more:
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
He stood, ran around to the front door, and banged on it. When there was no answer after ten seconds, he banged on it again, this time shouting: “Police!”
A startled woman swung open the door. Before she could say anything, Harry pushed past her.