Dark Tomorrow (Bo Blackman Book 6) (13 page)

***

In the end, I take Kimchi with me. I might be a vampire but people trust dogs. This is the sort of country where if a soap opera highlighted a storyline of terrible domestic abuse a few people would complain, but if they included a story of animal abuse the complaints would run into thousands. With Kimchi in tow, I project an image of being trustworthy. Of course, the image projected onto a million screens a couple of nights ago was of Bo Blackman, thug extraordinaire, not Bo Blackman, caring animal lover. But not everyone recognises me for who I am and I reckon I was justified with what happened with the hybrid witches. If nothing else, it keeps Kimchi happy to be out and about and my grandfather is delighted to have him as far away as possible.

There’s still no sign of Maria emerging from her room, but she’d probably be pretty happy to have Kimchi out of the building too. Unfortunately I now understand why. Any time I think about it incandescent rage rises inside me until it’s almost overwhelming, but I can’t pretend all this shit hasn’t happened to her.

Rather than piss around trying to hide my approach, I park outside the crazy guy’s house and get out. It looks normal enough; in fact, if you put Rogu3’s house next to this it would be nigh on impossible to tell the two apart without going inside. The joys of suburban England.

I go to the front door and knock. Kimchi, trying to be helpful, barks as well. I just hope crazy guy is amenable to bloodguzzlers.

A moment later the door opens and a young woman appears. I’m taken aback; I was certain that the Bruckheimer and Berryhill report said this ‘eyewitness’ lived alone and had no family. The woman smiles but her expression falters when she sees who is actually on her doorstep.

I force the issue. ‘Hi. I’m Bo Blackman.’

She blinks rapidly. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I know.’ Her hand travels to her throat. I can’t blame her but the action makes me wince. ‘I’m here because I’m investigating the disappearance of Alice Goldman.’

The woman forgets her fear and stares at me. ‘Really? Shouldn’t you be investigating what happened to all the vampires?’

‘I know what happened to them,’ I say, more shortly than I intended. ‘But I can’t do anything about it.’ Yet. I can’t do anything about it
yet
. ‘Anyway,’ I continue briskly, ‘I’m looking for Adio Brown.’

Her brow furrows in both puzzlement and relief. ‘Oh, he doesn’t live here any more.’ Sodding hell. I try not to curse aloud. ‘He used to own this house,’ the woman explains hastily, seeing my expression. She shrugs. ‘I only know that because we still get post for him, even after all these years.’

All these years? ‘How long have you lived here?’

‘We moved in about four months after Alice disappeared. I remember it because,’ she looks embarrassed, ‘er, because we got it really cheaply as a result of what happened to her. No one else wanted to live round here.’

I scratch my chin. Interesting that Mr Brown left so quickly. ‘Did you ever meet him?’ I press her. ‘Adio Brown?’ What I really want is a stranger’s opinion of his sanity.

The woman shakes her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. To be honest, I thought the house had been re-possessed. We bought it direct from the bank, not from him.’

I consider this. Mortgage defaults were at their height back then so it’s certainly credible. Brown had already retired a few years before, though; how many retired people without families to support still had mortgages? Something doesn’t ring true. I thank her anyway.

‘Nice dog,’ she tells me.

Kimchi, instantly aware that he’s the topic of conversation, wags his tail furiously. ‘Oh, he’s wonderful,’ I agree, lying through my teeth. ‘And so well-behaved.’

We get back into the van. Kimchi hops into the passenger seat and swings his head towards me, his tongue lolling and a long thread of spittle dripping onto the cracked leather. I rub his ears. ‘Well done,’ I say. ‘Even if it didn’t get us anywhere, you played your part well. I’m impressed that you managed to hold off drooling until we got back here.’

I glance back to the house; the woman is still standing on her porch. She probably wants to make sure that I leave her quiet little street. She’s smiling, no doubt because she can see me holding a conversation with a dog. Daft. ‘You know what bothers me, Kimchi?’ I ask, as I start the engine. ‘That people will think I’m a good person because I have a dog, even though it’s been proved that I have a strong thread of psycho. Yet an old man who lived here for decades says once that he saw some aliens and everyone dismisses him as nuts.’ I wag my finger. ‘Appearances can be very, very deceptive. Remember that.’

We drive off. I’m about to head back to the warehouse – the desperate need to spend more time with Michael is gnawing away at me – but I decide to make one more call while I’m here. I don’t want to, in fact I’d rather sink my fangs into Kimchi’s hide and drink from him than do this. But I’m here now so I guess I might as well.

***

Alice Goldman’s house is less than thirty metres from Rogu3’s. I’d like to say that it looks exactly the same as it did years before but there’s a haunting air of neglect about it. I’ve been to houses like this before and it’s never fun.

I pull up and wonder whether the Goldmans can smile with genuine emotion now, or whether there’s nothing more than well-constructed facades on their faces and an aching, Alice-shaped void in their hearts. I think know the answer without asking.

I steel myself for the inevitable. This time, I leave Kimchi in the van. Even if his presence would smooth things over, such tricks don’t seem fair. I walk up the path alone.

Before I can raise my fist and knock, the door opens and Mrs Goldman’s familiar face appears. We never had chance to meet before; I was under orders not to approach the family. Bruckheimer and Berryhill probably thought that meeting the grieving parents would make me develop a conscience and work against the insurance company to get the family what they deserved. I didn’t need to talk to the Goldmans face to face to have a conscience; I was human back then.

‘I saw you park outside,’ Mrs Goldman says, all in a rush. Her face is flushed and her eyes are anxious. I’m troubled that she might think I’m with the police. It’s a ridiculous notion but there’s something about the way she’s looking at me that sets me on edge.

‘Uh, great,’ I say. ‘I’m Bo Blackman.’

‘I know. Of course I know. Everyone knows.’

She knows I’m not a copper then. That’s something. I hold my tongue, refraining from plunging straight into my own agenda. Mrs Goldman wants something and she deserves the opportunity to ask for it before I bulldoze my way through and make her spend the rest of the day sobbing.

She takes a deep breath. ‘You’ve been very kind to Alistair.’

For a moment, I don’t have the faintest idea what she’s talking about. Then my brain kicks into gear. Rogu3. Of course. ‘He’s a good kid.’

Mrs Goldman bites her lip and nods. ‘He was very helpful with Alice. You know. Before.’

I maintain a professional air. ‘Yes, I do know.’

Her words are expelled in a massive rush. ‘I wanted to come and talk to you. When you visited his parents. I’ve been looking out because I thought you might come round again. I thought if we could just speak then you’d understand and you’d help.’ She wrings her hands and I see that they’re red and raw. She sees me looking and grimaces. ‘Sorry. Plumbing.’

I blink. I already know that Mrs Goldman has an inner strength that I couldn’t begin to muster – not after the loss of a child – but the last thing I expected was to hear that she’s knee-deep in pipes and wrenches. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Yes, yes.’ She wipes her brow and meets my eyes. Even confronted with the tell-tale red in my pupils, Mrs Goldman doesn’t flinch. ‘I know it’s been a long time and you have other things going on right now, but you did it for Alistair and his family and now I want you to do it for me.’

Suddenly I understand. Although it seems a lifetime ago, it’s not that long since Rogu3’s life was in danger. I went after those who harmed him and made sure that they wouldn’t hurt anyone else ever again. Mrs Goldman wants the same for Alice’s killers. But I think that Alice might be alive. I debate whether to tell her and decide against it. There’s no point in giving her false hope; it wouldn’t be fair.

‘That’s exactly why I’m here,’ I tell her calmly, using her lead.

Her eyes widen. ‘It is? Did Alistair’s mum talk to you? I told her to pass on a message that I wanted to speak to you. I wasn’t sure if she would.’ She lowers her voice. ‘A lot of my neighbours avoid me. It’s as if having a dead child is contagious.’ She lets out a tiny snort.

I already like her more than I thought I would. I gloss over Rogu3’s mum and the ‘message’. ‘I like Alistair,’ I say simply. ‘And he liked Alice. It’s the least I can do.’

‘I thought you’d be busy. There’s so much going on at the moment with all those dead bloodguzz— vampires. I’m so sorry that happened to you.’

There’s something incongruous about Alice’s mum apologising to me. ‘You know,’ I say in a soft voice and, for once, with total honesty, ‘people keep saying that. They keep saying they’re sorry and they keep saying that I must be busy sorting it all out.’

‘But sorry doesn’t help,’ Mrs Goldman fills in. ‘And there’s nothing left to sort out.’

I nod; she understands it better than I do. Then again, she’s had years to think about it. For the briefest and most unexpected moment, my eyes well up with tears. Mrs Goldman reaches out, takes my hand and squeezes it hard. Her comforting me seems ridiculous. I bow my head and bite the inside of my cheek hard until the moment passes. I can’t fall apart in front of her; that would be the most unfair cut of all.

‘It’s been a long time,’ I say once I recover control. ‘There’s not going to be much of a trail to follow. The police looked for whoever did this to your daughter and found nothing.’

‘Yes,’ she answers. ‘They did.’ There’s no trace of censure in her eyes or in her words. ‘They did the best they could. But I can’t rest until I’ve tried every single avenue. I owe that much to Alice’s memory.’

I swallow. Without warning, a loud wail rents the air. I’m so startled that I jump. Mrs Goldman smiles faintly. ‘Wait just a minute,’ she asks. ‘Please?’

She turns and is swallowed up by her house. When she reappears, there’s a pink swaddled baby in her arms. I’m no expert but I’d say she’s no older than four months. The sweet smell of talcum powder tickles my nose and, involuntarily, I take a step back. I’m not afraid of a baby, I’m just … slightly overwhelmed.

‘Would you like to hold her?’ Mrs Goldman asks.

That’s brave. ‘I’m a vampire,’ I say stupidly.

She smiles. ‘I trust you.’

I want to say no. I desperately want to say no. Instead, I reach out my arms.

The baby is heavier than I expected. She yawns at me, her huge blue eyes fixed on mine with no fear or malice. She’s just curious. There’s a strange lump in my throat. ‘What … what’s her name?’

‘Hope,’ Mrs Goldman replies. ‘Because we all need some of that, don’t we?’

‘She’s perfect.’

Her reply is barely audible. ‘So was Alice.’

Scared of what could happen if I don’t let Baby Hope go, I pass her back. She gurgles and reaches up to grab a curl of her mother’s hair. I look away. ‘I’ve been down the revenge path before,’ I say finally. ‘It’s not as satisfying as you might think.’

‘This isn’t about revenge,’ Mrs Goldman tells me calmly and for some reason I believe her. ‘This is about justice. I know there aren’t any guarantees. I know that every lead has already been followed. But you’re different.’ Her eyes plead with me. ‘I can pay.’

‘I don’t want your money.’ The fact that I’m already looking into Alice’s disappearance has nothing to do with this either. Regardless of where Alice is now – dead or alive – I’m not sure I can open myself up to the darkness necessary to bring Mrs Goldman’s desired justice to her daughter’s abductors. I’ve been down that road before and it almost destroyed me. Of course the darkness is still there but the worst of it is being held at bay. It’s only a thin thread away, though.

‘Did you see anything the day Alice went missing? Or in the days before?’ I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but it’s the reason I’m here. ‘Maybe someone wearing a Halloween mask? Like an, um, alien?’

‘There was nothing,’ Mrs Goldman sighs. ‘Believe me, I’ve been over and over that day a million times. There was nothing out of the ordinary.’ She looks sad until Hope gurgles again and her attention is drawn back to the present. ‘Whoever did this to Alice deserves to die.’

Yeah, they do. I don’t reply.

Aware of my reluctance, Mrs Goldman keeps talking. ‘I still see her. Even now, after all this time, I catch sight of her in the street. I run up, screaming her name and then when she turns…’ I hold my breath ‘…it’s not her at all. There was even one time…’ Her voice falters. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘No. Go on. One time what?’

A faint flush stains her cheeks. ‘I saw her. I was sure it was her. Her hair was different, it had been dyed dark brown and cropped short. The clothes she was wearing weren’t what Alice would have liked at all. But still, I was convinced. I walked up to her and grabbed her. I hugged her and she stood there like a robot. Like I was some mad woman on the street.’ She laughs harshly. ‘I suppose I was. Of course, then she started screaming and all these passers-by wrenched her from me.’ Her tone turns bitter. ‘Where were they when my Alice was taken?’