Now You See Me (4 page)

I get to it just before the answerphone kicks in. “Hello?” I'm certain it's Martha, bracing myself for the sound of her voice.

No reply.

“Hello?” I repeat.

I stop, listening to the eerie silence at the end of the line, heavy, like expectation. With it the first prickle of fear, as always. This isn't the dead kind of silence you get when there's no one there or something's wrong with the line.

This is the silence of someone listening.

“Who is it?” I hiss into the receiver, not wanting Paul or Alice to overhear me. “Why do you keep ringing? What do you want?”

Still nothing.

Then a small noise in the background, barely audible, like someone clearing their throat. I slam the phone down so hard that for a moment I think I've broken it.

And realize I'm shaking.

Six days after Danny went missing the police were back. I opened our door to Janet Reynolds' gentle smile, another officer standing right behind her. A different man this time, bigger with a fatter face. Older.

“Hello, Hannah, is your father in?” Janet asked.

She was in luck. Even Dad didn't work on Saturday. I left the door ajar, and ran upstairs. Went straight into his study without bothering to knock. “Dad, the police are here. They want to speak to you.”

Dad looked up from his screen and blinked at me through his dark-rimmed glasses. “The police?” He looked wary and, well…scared. I stared at him for a moment. He was almost trembling.

What on earth…?

Then I realized. Remembered the last time the police came to our door, and my mind shrank back from the memory like something stung.

“It's about Danny,” I reminded him quickly.

“Oh, right…yes.” Dad's features unfroze a little. “Of course. Just give me a moment.” He turned and pressed a couple of keys on his laptop.

I paused long enough to make sure the message had sunk in, then went back down.

“He's on his way.” I smiled an apology at the pair in the doorway and we waited for him to join us. Neither of them seemed to feel awkward, like they were used to standing around on people's doorsteps.

A minute later Dad appeared, a smile fixed on his face like a sticking plaster. “David Radcliffe,” he said, extending a hand to each of them. “How can I help you?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr Radcliffe.” Janet's voice was smooth and calm as she introduced herself and Detective Inspector Thompson. “We're investigating the disappearance of Danny Geller, and would like to talk to Hannah again. We think you should be present.”

Dad looked at me.

“It's okay,” I said.

Though in truth it wasn't, and I felt the world tip in a way that made me dizzy. I mean, I knew they hadn't found Danny yet, that he hadn't come home. There'd been no sign of him at school, and no word from Martha. But somehow the police being here again made it feel much more real, much more serious.

We sat in the lounge. I glanced at the books and magazines scattered across the table, the stains on the cover of the sofa, and felt the colour rush up to my cheeks. But if either Janet Reynolds or Detective Thompson noticed the mess, they were nice enough not to show it.

“Is there any news?” I got in before either of them spoke. “I mean, do you know where Danny is?”

Janet hesitated, trying to find the right words. I knew they wouldn't be good. Her being here at all meant they couldn't be good.

“Nothing concrete, Hannah, but we're still at the very early stages of the investigation.”

I bit my lip. I felt stupidly disappointed – though what did I expect? Because why would they be here if they knew where he was? And Martha would have called me, the minute she heard anything.

I felt a sharp pang of guilt at the thought of Martha. She must be frantic right now. I should have gone round. At least I should have rung and offered to help with Alice. After all, Martha had always been there for me, doing her best to fill the gaping hole Mum left in my life.

But I hadn't been able to face it. If I didn't have to see the desperation on Martha's face, hear it in her voice, I could still pretend that everything was okay. That Danny would be back soon and all this would melt away like a bad dream.

“Thank you for seeing us today, Hannah,” Janet began, throwing in another of her reassuring smiles. “As you know, Danny has been missing for nearly a week now and we're very concerned. We want to talk to everyone who saw him last weekend, and since you were the last person we know of, we need to go over again what happened last Sunday.”

I found I could look her in the eyes almost easily, lulled by their kindness. What must it be like, I wondered, walking into people's houses, always bringing bad news? How did it feel knowing that everyone you spoke to wished you weren't even there?

My thoughts veered back to that day a year ago. The knock on the door. The policemen, different, but the same uniform. Dad sending me upstairs when he saw the seriousness in their expression.

Half an hour later, when Dad came to break the news that Mum was dead, I covered my ears with a pillow. I hadn't wanted to hear it.

I still didn't.

“Hannah?” Janet's voice pulled me back. “Do you mind if we go over again exactly what happened last Sunday?”

I swallowed before I spoke. “Yes, that's fine.”

“Okay, then. Let's start at the beginning. Can I ask you again what time you met up with Danny?”

I tried to picture it, to put myself there. Already that day seemed a bit less distinct, a little harder to recall. I'd woken to sunlight, I remembered that, the way it had slanted in through the window, lighting up the tiny specks of dust in the air. I read in bed for a while, ate some cereal, put on a load of washing. Was about to go up to clean my teeth when there was a knock on the door.

And it was Danny.

He grinned at me, like I was expecting him. He was dressed in the T-shirt and shorts he always wore in summer – even when it was rainy – and his blond hair was messy and windblown from the bike ride over.

I know he saw the surprise in my eyes.

“I'm not sure,” I told Janet. “About eleven, I think. I've lost my watch and there was no school. I wasn't really paying much attention. Sorry.”

“No need to be,” she said, giving me a look she clearly intended to be encouraging. I picked at a snagged nail on my thumb. I couldn't help feeling this was some kind of test that I might pass or fail.

And if I failed, did that mean I'd never see Danny again?

Janet made a note in her little black pad. “We're just trying to establish a timeline, Hannah. Can we go over again what you did then?”

“Not much. We hung around for a while. Danny made himself a sandwich.”

“Didn't he make you one?” Detective Thompson asked. I saw from the way the corner of his mouth crooked into a smile that he wasn't serious.

I grimaced. Shook my head. “I can't stand peanut butter.”

Detective Thompson laughed. “Me neither. It's like eating glue.”

“Where did you go while Danny had his sandwich?” Janet asked.

I had to think for a moment. “We sat out in the garden.” It was pretty hot, but you could tell summer was winding down. Danny found an old football hidden in the long grass. He sat on the bench, balancing it in the curve between his shin and his foot. He was wearing a pair of trainers I hadn't seen before. Black, with red flashes across each side. They looked new. Expensive.

“You okay?” he'd asked.

“Fine,” I said, looking back up at his face, his eyes, pool-blue to my pale grey. He was smiling, friendly, trying to appear relaxed, but his gaze wouldn't quite meet mine.

Because, let's face it, that was a question he shouldn't need to ask.

“Were you alone?” Janet continued.

“Yes. I mean, no. Dad was up in his study.”

Janet looked at Dad for confirmation. He squirmed a little in his chair. “I'm pretty sure I was,” he said, as if there might actually be some doubt.

“You work at the university?” asked the detective. I guessed Martha must have told them. “In the department of genetics, right?”

“Human genomics,” Dad corrected.

The detective frowned. “Which is…”

“DNA sequencing. Isolating the code for diseases, things like that.”

“Ah,” Detective Thompson nodded. “That must be interesting.”

Dad opened his mouth to say more, then closed it again when he realized the detective was only being polite.

Janet turned back to me. “Did Danny come round for any reason in particular?”

“Just to hang out.”

She paused, looking at the open pad on her lap. I caught sight of a plate with a half-eaten pizza crust just under the sofa beneath her feet. Jesus. How long had that been there?

“So, after Danny had finished his sandwich?”

“He suggested we go down to the seafront,” I said.

“This was, what…about lunchtime? Didn't you have something to eat first?”

I shook my head. “I had something there.”

“What was that then?” asked Detective Thompson, looking interested.

“We both had chips. From the kiosk by the crazy golf.” I felt my cheeks redden and Detective Thompson raised an eyebrow. “Martha doesn't like us eating them. She says they're bad for us.”

“Don't worry, I won't tell.” He winked, and Dad actually laughed. And for a second I saw the old Dad, the one who found everything funny. Was always cracking jokes.

“Okay.” Janet glanced down at her notes again. “You walked down to the beach?”

“No. We took our bikes.” I had a slow puncture in my back wheel. Danny carried the pump in his backpack so he could blow it up again when it went soft.

“Where exactly did you go?”

“Um, straight down to Marine Parade and on to Sandmarsh Fields.”

“Nice down there,” said the detective. “I often take my kids to the playground.”

“We went there, to eat our chips,” I added, remembering us sitting on the little roundabout, Danny spinning it slowly, one foot on the ground. The wide sweep of the sea, the long promenade, the playing fields and boating lake, the steep woods on Dane's Hill – round and round it all went, till it was like the world was revolving and I was perfectly still.

“I'd almost forgotten,” Danny had said when he'd finished his chips, lying back on the wooden boards of the roundabout and closing his eyes. His face seemed to have grown more angular in the last year, but the tops of his cheeks were still dense with freckles. Darker than mine; larger too.

“Forgotten what?”

“How nice it is down here.” He opened an eye and peeked at me, then quickly looked away.

“So why don't we come any more?”

I regretted the question the second it left my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to scare Danny off. But Danny didn't seem to hear. He sat up, pushing the roundabout faster and faster, then jumped off and stood there smirking as I twirled around in front of him.

“How long were you there?” I looked up. Saw Janet watching me carefully and for a moment, a long stupid moment, I wondered if she could see right into my head. Actually know what I was thinking.

“About an hour.”

“Was anyone else around?”

I thought about it. “Just a couple of little kids with their mums,” I said. “Danny was messing around on the baby swing and one of the mothers asked him to get off.”

“Did you recognize them?” The detective sat up straighter.

I told him I'd never seen them before.

“And no one spoke to you apart from that?”

I shook my head. “I don't think so.”

“So, what did you do next?” Janet eyed me patiently. I knew she was hoping I'd tell her something important, a bit of information they could look into. I almost thought of making something up.

“Umm…Danny chased the train.”

Janet looked confused.

“The little miniature train that goes round the common. Danny raced it on his bike.”

The detective laughed. “Did he win?”

“Yeah. It doesn't go very fast. But he did get told off.”

Janet's head jerked up. “Told off? Who by?”

“Um…by the man driving it. He shouted at him. Said he'd tell Danny's parents.”

Dad frowned, but Janet glanced over at her colleague. “We can check that out, can't we?”

He gave a brief nod.

“That's good, Hannah,” Janet said. “That's what we need. Other people who will remember Danny that afternoon.”

“He won't get into trouble, will he?” I didn't dare look at Dad.

Janet leaned over and squeezed my hand. “Hannah, all we're interested in is finding Danny and bringing him home. You're not to worry about getting him into trouble. We don't care what either of you got up to, but we do need to know everything – even silly little things like that. They could be important.”

So I told them about the boating lake. It's not really a lake, more like a shallow lagoon that traps the seawater at high tide. A narrow concrete ledge runs right through the middle, separating the paddling section from the deeper bit for boats.

“Sounds fun,” said the detective, when I described how easily Danny rode across the ledge on his bike. It's a long stretch and once you set off there's no going back, nowhere to put your feet, so you've got to keep pedalling.

I managed a smile. “It is. Until you fall in.”

It was always Danny's favourite dare. He'd show other kids how easy it was, then challenge them to have a go. They'd set off and after a little way they'd lose their bottle and their balance and the next thing they were splashing around in the lake, laughing as much as we were.

“Go on, titch,” Danny had said that Sunday as I paused by the edge of the water. Then he'd lifted the front wheel of his bike onto the ledge and glided expertly across. “Come on,” he coaxed me from the other side.