Hide and Seek (13 page)

CHAPTER 27

17:16pm

Peter was suddenly aware that he had dropped the metal bar whilst helping release Michelle from her bounds. He searched around frantically for another weapon but couldn’t see anything of any use. He leaned back against the wall, and looked over at Michelle; her eyes were bulging
with real terror.

The figure reached the top of the stairs and stopped. The torchlight beamed past their hiding spot and crept searchingly over the shelving units. Then there was the distinctive crackling of a police radio. Peter
assumed that the officer from the police car outside must have returned and seen some movement in the building. Although he felt a sense of relief - that this was the police and not some madman - he remembered he could seek no solace from the police and they had to get out of there undetected. He turned to look at Michelle and found she was stepping back away from him to the furthest side of the partition wall.

Peter looked at her quizzically and mouthed ‘Michelle?’

She was shaking her head, visibly upset.

‘I’m sorry Peter,’ she whispered.

She turned and went around the wall and ran towards the police officer who told her to freeze.

‘Help me, I was kidnapped
...’

Peter’s heart was racing but he smiled a little. Well done Michelle, he thought. She was buying him time to escape.

‘Is the assailant still here?’ The deep voice of the officer boomed out.

Peter held his breath.

‘Behind that wall,’ she whimpered.

Peter gasped in disbelief. He instinctively pushed himself off the wall and darted across the room. The police officer shouted after him.

He bounded back up the stairs to the second floor and came to a stop, frantically looking around for a way to escape. There, through the uncovered windows were the metal bars of the scaffolding outside. He ran over to the spot where Michelle had been tied to the chair and picked up the metal bar again; then over to the window and, covering his eyes with his left arm, he smashed the glass. It shattered outwards onto the wooden boards of the scaffolding. He scraped the bar around the frame of the window to clear the remaining shards. The police officer had not come up the stairs yet and Peter thought he must be attending to Michelle and waiting for backup to arrive. He crouched and stepped through the window frame onto the scaffolding. The bitter cold wind whipped down the tunnel of wooden panels ruffling the green mesh which surrounded the scaffolding. He could hear a commotion coming from further down the street and through the green mesh he saw three police officers sprinting around the corner towards the toy store. As they approached one looked up and pointed directly at him.

‘
Up there, on the scaffolding.’

Peter
took off, his feet clattered and echoed on the wooden boards, as he ran along the front of the building and rounded the corner. There were ladders going up and down. He couldn’t go down towards the police so he jumped up onto the ladder, slipping on the rung and banging the side of his face into the metal rungs. He recovered and climbed quickly, head down watching his own feet as he clambered up to the next floor of wooden beams surrounding the roof. From his vantage point he could see across the whole high street and off into the bland suburbs beyond. In the distance he could see the flats standing solemnly. He’d only been inside the toy store for fifteen minutes, but the sky had become noticeably darker. Only the top edge of the sun could be seen on the horizon.

Peter hauled himself onto the roof. He looked down behind him. He could hear the policemen talking to each other but he couldn’t see them. He heard a clattering of wood and realised that one of the police officers had got up onto the scaffolding and wouldn’t be far behind him. He realised that in minutes the whole building could be surrounded.

Chaser’s Toy Store was the last in a row of nine buildings to his left. To his right was a sheer drop down to Lodge Street. He ran to his left and reached the roof edge and stopped short, looking down. The toy store was the only building on this stretch that was three storeys high and he had more than a fifteen foot drop down to the roof of the next building. Peter sat on the edge and manoeuvred himself around to hang down, his face against the wall. He looked down; it was still a decent drop. He let go and landed heavily on his heels, falling backwards onto his behind, scraping the palms of his hands across loose gravel. He rolled over and did a push up to his knees. His heels felt like they had just been hit with a baseball bat. He grimaced as he rose to his feet again and limped over to the next roof edge, hopped over and continued running.

He had
crossed another two roofs when he heard a shout behind him. He turned to see a police officer at the roof edge of Chaser’s Toy Store. He started talking into the police radio on his chest as another police officer came running up to join him. Peter picked up his speed, sprinting now, and hurdling over the roof edges, until he reached the end building - next to the bus depot where Martin had dropped him off earlier. He looked over the edge and could see the row of four parked buses. He turned and saw that one of the police officers had climbed down the wall and was making his way over the rooftops towards him. The other police officer was still stood on the roof edge of Chaser’s, his head cocked into his chest relaying information through his police radio. There was no choice; he had to go for it. He took a few strides back, breathed out and ran towards the edge …

The
drop seemed to happen in slow motion, the top of the bus inching closer. The plastic roof compressed like a bubble and cracked as he landed heavily. He lost momentum and tumbled forward, sliding on his belly across the wet slippery surface. He came to a stop a few inches short of the edge. He was amazed that he was still alive but there was no time to think about what he’d just done. He clambered down the side of the bus and dropped to the ground. He took a moment to relish the fact that he was in one piece, but it was short-lived. A police officer ran past the front of the two buses he was standing between and skidded to a halt upon seeing him. Peter turned and bolted from his hiding place across the cobbled courtyard of the depot as the police officer gave chase.

Peter
swerved back onto Brunswick Street running away from Chaser’s Toy Store. He sprinted up the street, assessing the roads leading off it and wondering which one to take … when a blow hit him in the back of the legs. His hands spread out but did little to cushion his fall as the police officer rugby tackled him to the pavement. The sudden impact of his body against the concrete knocked the wind out of him. He had barely time to recover before he could feel the body of the police officer climb onto his back pinning him down. A terrifying panic gripped him as he realised he’d been caught.

CHAPTER 28

17:22pm

Peter writhed furiously as the police officer wrestled with his arms, locking them behind his back. He found a foothold and summoning up the last of his strength he pushed out and bucked upwards like a bull dismounting a rodeo rider. The police man fell forward over the top of his body, smashing Peter’s face against the ground. Peter climbed out from under the officer who turned and lunged up to grab the lapels of his jacket. He punched the officer in the stomach but it was ineffective as he couldn’t swing properly. The two of them tussled. Peter intuitively grabbed the officer’s shoulders and head butted him on the bridge of the nose. He’d never head butted anyone in his life and the collision knocked both of them backwards in equal pain. Peter felt dazed and lights danced in his eyes. He stumbled up to his feet as the officer lay back on the ground holding his nose, thick streams of blood trickling out from the gaps between his fingers. Peter shook his head and started to stumble away from the officer who reached out with one hand and grabbed his right leg. Peter tried to shake off his vice grip. He felt agitated and turned and kicked the officer in the face with his left foot. He immediately felt guilty as the officer cried out in pain. He released his hand from Peter’s leg and rolled over cradling his face with both hands. Peter stood over him for a few seconds wondering whether to help him. He was startled as he heard someone shout out behind him.

‘You fucking bastard.’

He looked up to the roof he’d jumped from. The police officer who had given chase across the roofs stood watching him. Peter could see him assess the drop, his face a picture of pent up revenge. Peter remembered that there was another police officer somewhere and looked around him but couldn’t see anyone. The officer on the roof edge was clearly not considering jumping and started talking into his radio.

Peter
started running down Brunswick Street. He took his first right onto Albion Street and took every subsequent turning as he zigzagged away from the scene. Streets and alleyways flashed by and jumbled around him as he ran. He could taste blood in his mouth, and heard sirens whining, but felt thankful that they seemed far away. He had no idea where he was running. There were certain landmarks he remembered as a child which appeared briefly on his run but he didn’t register where that placed him in the town. Eventually he could run no more and slowed to a stop in an alleyway behind a row of houses on Auckland Avenue. He collapsed against the outhouse door of one of the terraced houses. He fought to catch his breath as his chest heaved up and down, his entire body racked with pain.

He could hear the sirens of two police cars in the direction of the high street competing against each other
, while his attention was drawn to the sky and a patch of clouds seeming to flash erratically as if lightning were going off within them. He could hear the muffled sounds of tiny explosions fizzing like fun snaps going off under a duvet. He pulled the mobile from his pocket - 5:30pm. The firework display rigged to go off in Chaser’s Toy Store was firing on time. He had an awful vision of Michelle, still strapped to that chair, the fireworks hitting her with furious force. For a second he wondered if he had indeed saved her, the last twenty minutes had seemed like a blurry dream. He consoled himself that he
had
got to her in time and felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He had saved Cheryl too, but her burns were horrific. So Michelle was his first
real
save, and not only her, but her unborn baby too.

The sense of pride didn’t last long
- he’d been given so much more time to save her. Could she really be implicated in this nightmare? He replayed as much of the conversation with Michelle as he could recall; tried to reanalyse her reaction. She had seemed very confused when he said he didn’t know where Colin was. If she was part of this game she would have known he was the first person involved. Another thing that stood out, in hindsight, was that she had taken a surprising amount of time to ask about Colin. Peter hypothesised that if he had been in a similar situation the first thing he would have done was ask about his wife. Michelle didn’t ask about Colin initially, it was only when Peter mentioned his name that she showed interest. Did she delay in asking about Colin because she already knew he was dead?

A doubt crept into his mind
. He’d lied about Steve dying, and she’d wept. If she was truly part of the game she would have known that it was a lie. Her tears seemed genuine enough … but could it have been an act? She might have known he was lying, that he was testing her. In a sense her reaction to Steve’s death was unsatisfying. She had shed some tears but … it all seemed very
controlled
. And she seemed to get over the news too quickly. She had acted the same with the news about Cheryl. Cheryl was her best friend and yet, when he told Michelle about her being burnt in an oven, she hadn’t seemed overwhelmingly surprised or upset. Peter tried to be objective. He couldn’t be sure of anything. How could he possibly know for sure how someone was supposed to react to something like this? He wondered at how his perceptions had changed over the last few hours. He felt strangely desensitised from all the horrible violence that had occurred so far.

The most pressing matter
: why had she given him up to the police? He’d thought, at first, that she was doing it to buy him time to escape but surely she wouldn’t have told the policeman that he was behind the wall if that was her intention. He remembered the look on her face as she pulled away from him, how she’d said she was sorry before running to the police officer. Why had she said she was sorry? Did she not believe his story? Did she think that he was the killer? Or did she just think she would be safer with the police? Even after he had told her that he suspected someone from the police force might be involved? After all her father was The Sheriff. Maybe the two of them were behind this? But for what reason?

Surely he couldn’t judge her too
harshly. She had just been through a very traumatic experience. But then again, what about him? He had been through terrible traumas as well. He was doing all this alone and had appealed to her for help. She said he could trust her and yet she betrayed him. He had saved her - and her unborn baby - and she deceived him.

He realised that by now she must have been informed that her husband was dead. He recognised that the lies he had told her would probably validate her mistrust of him and justify her actions. He wished he hadn’t lied, especially as it had served no
useful purpose in the end, and had only confused matters in his mind even more.

He wondered what she was doing now, what she was telling the police.
The police would have a fuller picture now. If she’d told them about Celo, perhaps they’d start to help him? At least indirectly, by looking for the remaining members of the Excellent Eight. Peter felt an anxious knot twist in his stomach … but if Michelle
was
involved in this then she could be telling them anything. It would not be difficult to convince them that he
was the person responsible for all the atrocities.

Peter rose to his feet and
kicked the gravel floor like a petulant child. He hated the possible injustice; he needed a chance to tell the police his side of the story. But it couldn’t happen now; Celo had said he couldn’t involve them. He had to be selfless; he had to stick to the rules to have any hope of saving the rest of his friends.

Peter stopped for a second and considered this. Maybe he was going about
it the wrong way. By playing Celo’s game and running away from the police he was making himself the prime suspect. If he had gone to the police as soon as he’d discovered Colin’s amputated arm then it would be their responsibility. Why was he putting himself through all this? He had done things today which he’d never thought himself capable of. He had sprinted all over town, on the whims of a madman. He had run across rooftops, jumped from a building onto a bus. He could quite easily have killed himself. He had been involved in a fight for the first time since he was a child and it had been with a police officer. He had done all this to try and save some people he hadn’t even seen in over twenty years.

And yet, two of the
three members of the Excellent Eight still remaining, meant a great deal to him. Cas was his best friend when he was younger and Laura was his childhood sweetheart. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t have much affinity with Steve. He hadn’t got on with him too well when they were children due to his incessant sarcastic humour and cruel pranks. In the short time he had reacquainted with him yesterday this only seemed to have gotten worse over time. Steve was still a high priority suspect in Peter’s mind, especially as he hadn’t come up in the game so far. He wondered why the two he cared about most hadn’t come up either. Was that intentional? Did Celo know how much he still cared for Cas and Laura, even after all this time? Did he place them later in the game deliberately? To keep him involved and interested? Of course he did, he thought, all members of the Excellent Eight knew that Cas was his best friend, and everyone knew of his relationship with Laura.

He wondered about Cas, time had obviously changed them both, but he had a wary suspicion about him. He didn’t want to believe his own thoughts but he couldn’t deny them. Cas could definitely be involved in this but surely Laura wasn’t?
In all the various conspiracy theories he had entertained throughout the day he had instantly dismissed Laura. He
knew
she couldn’t have any involvement in something this horrific. She couldn’t be. If he did find out that Laura was involved, that would hurt him the most.

Peter looked up at the sky. The firework display had fizzled out long ago and a thick mist hung below the black sky. He tentatively crept out from the shadow
s of the alleyway. The street was illuminated with an eerie purple tint and light drizzle began to fall again. Peter’s heart sank as he felt a rumble in his pocket, a second before the haunting William Tell ringtone began again.