Seeker (13 page)

“Well, yeah,” he said to PC Medeiros. “But it's a common enough thing,” he added, realising how much doubt was in his voice. He snatched another glance at Will's parents, and it was clear they also noted his tone.

“That is certainly true, Mr. Caulfield, but…” She stood up and gathered her notes together. “I will be back in a few moments, once I've consulted my supervising officer. If you'll excuse me?”

No one spoke as she left the interview room. Mrs. Adomako merely kept her eyes on Jake, as if blaming him for Will's disappearance. Francis, on the other hand, watched Medeiros walk out and only when she had closed the door did he turn to Jake.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?” He glanced at Mrs. Adomako, and offered a smile. “Sorry, Sandra. I meant us.”

Jake let out a breath of air and looked to the floor. He was going to kill Will for putting him in this situation.

* * *

“So, you're not a local either?” Sam asked, as Lilly and he crossed the road to the seafront. Clouds were moving in the darkness about them, but Sam had insisted they go for a walk before the rain itself made a special guest appearance. Lilly was open to the idea, but on the proviso that they wrapped up warmly. The day might have been a warm one, and the residual humidity still hung in the air, but along the Chalkwell Esplanade the wind tended to pick up and it had a habit of breaking through any humidity. Besides which, according to the weather reports, a storm had kicked up in London and so it was only a matter of time before they got hit in Essex, too.

Sam wore a coat that Jordan had left at Lilly's a few weeks back, after a planning meeting, and much like the rest of Jordan's stuff it fit Sam quite snugly, making him look like some kind of British Eskimo.

“Not at all, actually, I only moved to Essex in 2003 after spending most of my life in London,” Lilly said. “But I was born in Northumberland, not that I spent long there, since my parents were killed in a car accident. I don't remember much about them, except they were very loving. Quite renowned archaeologists, specialised in Egyptology, and spent most of the year at digs in Egypt. I was conceived in Egypt, apparently, according to my great aunt.”

The tide had come in, and so Sam elected to sit on the seafront wall, to watch the water as it was whipped up by the wind. “Did your great aunt take you in?”

“Ah, no. I was fostered out; none of my family were in the position to raise a child at the time. I lost touch with most of them over the years, but me and my great aunt keep in touch now and then. It's no big deal, just the way my life has gone.”

Sam nodded. “Must be great to know where you come from.”

Lilly placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. “Well, maybe we can work out a little something of your past? Like your accent; it's a bit refined, but I detect a definite hint of South London in there.”

Sam frowned. “You think?”

“I do.” Lilly smiled at him. “That's a start, right? My foster parents moved me to London in April 1976, just after my third birthday, so I spent most of my formative years there. North London, though, but I'm pretty good at placing the regional accents.”

Sam was silent for a few moments, while he thought about that. He nodded slowly. “Yes, London sounds right somehow. And…” He shook his head, and looked out to the Estuary, his eyes roaming the distant. For those passing by, not that there were many of them anymore as the wind was getting quite rough, it would appear he was looking at Kent, but Lilly knew otherwise. He was searching much further, a distance you could never travel in person. “I get the sense of…I don't know. Flight? As if I were fleeing something.”

“The same something that made you lose your memory?”

“Could be.” Sam blinked, and turned to Lilly, tears slowly falling from his eyes. “It's so damned frustrating.”

“Yes,” she said, reaching out and hugging his shoulders with one arm, and was pleasantly surprised when he moved in closer, leaning his head against her shoulder. “But we're making progress. We now know you're from London, that you fled for some reason, and it was something pretty bad. More than we knew last night when I found you
naked
in my garden.”

She was pleased to hear Sam laugh at the reminder of his lack of clothing, and enjoyed the slight vibration as his body shook with the laughter.

“Yes, sorry about that.”

“Hey, don't be. I'm not.”

Sam turned his head, bringing his nose barely an inch from Lilly's. “You're quite sweet, really,” he pointed out.

This pleased Lilly even more. She was no fool, and hadn't been in many relationships in her life, the last proper one was before she left London at nineteen. That had ended badly, and she promised herself that she would not let another man get in the way of her career again, and in almost twenty years she had done just that. But now Sam was here, and she knew the feelings she was developing for him. How could she not? This mystery man who had entered her life so suddenly. With an entrance like his it was hard not to find him a little attractive.

“Just don't go telling anyone else that. I have a reputation as a hard-nosed bitch to maintain,” she said, laughing, too.

Heedless of their laughter, the clouds grew darker and the first drops of rain fell, signalling the imminent arrival of the forthcoming storm.

* * *

They emerged to be assaulted by the full force of the storm. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the worry on their faces. Jake was quiet, lost in his own world, and stopped at the top of the steps while Francis and Sandra descended.

“Searching his house?” Sandra was saying. “Will's lost to us, isn't he, Francis?”

“Come on, you daft woman,” Francis said and pulled his ex-wife closer to him. Even after all these years he felt responsible for her, and the pain written over her face was echoed in his own heart. But he had faith, and he was sure they would find their son somehow. “It's just routine,” he pointed out, “you heard the lady. They need to search his house for any kind of clues that will point to why he'd go missing.”

“It was that man. That Charlie person Willem went to see.”

“We don't know that. And perhaps they will find something in Will's house that will tell him where this Charlie lives.” Francis looked back up at the steps. “Did you ever speak to Charlie, Jake?”

Jake shook his head. “No, but I want to. I warned Will something would go wrong,” he said, the anger suddenly bubbling over, “but he wouldn't listen. He's so fucking stubborn sometimes.” He stopped abruptly, and blinked away the rain from his eyes. “Sorry, Mrs.. Adomako.”

Sandra looked up from where she was wrapped in Francis's arms. “It's okay, love, you're upset.”

Upset. Francis was no mind reader, but he knew that to call Jake's state of mind “upset” was an understatement. For a second he saw Jake at thirteen; both he and Willem running down the stairs into the lounge, their faces red. Francis smiled and released Sandra.

He walked over to Jake and reached out a hand. “It's going to be okay, son, he'll be found.”

Jake pulled away from the touch of support, and said, sharper than he'd intended; “He better be. Damn him for doing this to me.”

Francis lowered his head, no longer wanting to intrude on Jake's pain. He'd known all those years ago, but Jake was oblivious to the truth. Now, though, it seemed that truth was beginning to hit home. “Come on, Sandra, let's flag a cab. Jake needs some alone time.”

Sandra attempted to argue, but Francis shushed her and gently led her away from the police station and towards Fulham Road where they'd have more chance of hailing a taxi.

As they walked away, he glanced back at Jake. The man stood like some stocky statue, unaware of the ferocity of the rain as it washed over him.

Francis really hoped Jake would find some comfort soon, it broke his old heart to see one of his boys in so much hurt.

Without looking up Jake turned and walked away, heading toward Clem Atlee Estate. Francis smiled sadly.

Roaming in the rain. He remembered such painful days of his own, just after he'd been thrown out of his home, and couldn't blame Jake for feeling as he did.

* * *

Amy stood at the end of Jacob's bed, watching him sleep. It was just after five thirty in the morning, and she was about to head to work, having to leave even earlier to navigate the traffic between Fulham and the Docklands. It was going to be a long trip, but she had needed to stay at Jacob's last night. When he'd returned from the police station he was a wreck—and soaked through, to boot. Over a cup of Oxo he told her everything the police had said, and she tried to get him to see that it was good. The police dealt with missing persons a lot more often than people probably realised, and they knew what they were doing. But Jacob wouldn't be comforted, recalling stories of the missing that were never found.

It was what Jacob never said, however, that troubled Amy the most.

She wasn't stupid, and she could read people pretty well. It didn't matter how close friends he was with Will, to be this despondent spoke of only one thing.

She left the bedroom, her mind rushing through various scenarios of how to deal with this latest development. Just before she left the flat, though, she placed a post-it note on the TV, telling Jacob to meet her for lunch.

They definitely had to talk about this, but when it came to what she would say Amy had no idea. Hopefully by the time lunch arrived she would have been hit by some inspiration.

* * *

Lilly poked her head through the crack in the spare bedroom door and looked in on Sam who was still fast asleep. It was half six and time for her to head to work; more lectures to prepare for. Normally she would have prepared the night before, but her time with Sam superseded her usual routine. Strangely she didn't mind as much as she thought she would; after almost twenty years of putting her career first perhaps it was time to seek other avenues in her life.

She didn't believe in coincidence, and had always been convinced that there was a reason behind everything, ever since she was old enough to understand such things and she realised that if her natural parents hadn't died then she would never have been able to bring her foster parents such happiness as a child.

It was a pity she'd become such a problem when she hit puberty, though, but even that served a purpose, shaping her into the woman she eventually became. Although she rarely spoke to her parents, she knew they were proud of the career she had forged in the academic world, although they often voiced their concerns about her not finding a good man with whom to share her life.

Now Sam had entered her life, and although they had spent only a short time together she honestly believed there was much potential between them. Of course, her concern was that when he rediscovered his memories he might already be in a relationship with someone, and that would surely throw a large spanner at things.

Nonetheless, she decided it was worth the risk. They were bonding, and she wanted to see how things would develop. The consequences of memory restoral would be something to deal with when it happened.

She checked her watch. She really had to be off.

For a moment she remained where she was, though, contemplating going into the room and kissing Sam gently on the forehead. But she decided against it; if he woke up as she kissed him it could confuse matters, and he had enough going on at the moment.

Things would progress as they progressed.

She turned to leave, finding herself looking forward to lunch, when she would meet Sam in town for a bit of shopping and more getting-to-know-you time.

* * *

It was a violation that Jake felt acutely. Because of Will's focus on his job his home had never really been a hubbub of sociality, and on the rare occasions he did have guests over it was usually a very select few. Work contacts, and perhaps a couple of old university friends. But now, Will's home was abuzz with activity, seeing more people wandering around in it than ever before, and Jake didn't like it.

He was restless, constantly moving from kitchen to lounge, upstairs, and then back down, checking to see what the police were doing. He
knew
what they were doing, of course, but he needed to see with his own eyes, driven by some sense of unwanted invasion of privacy. And with each circuit of the house the fact that Will could be in serious danger struck him deeper and deeper.

Jake's mobile had been left as a point of contact for the police, since Francis did not own a phone, landline or mobile, and Mrs. Adomako didn't wish to be contacted at home feeling the atmosphere there was already getting a little too untenable. And so, as the first port of call, it was Jake who was awoken by a call from PC Medeiros at eight o'clock. Once he was fully cognisant, she outlined how their investigation would progress today.

They would be pulling Will's phone records, a task made easy by him being on contract, to see what calls and texts had been sent and received prior to his disappearance, and if any had been made since the night of Friday 25th March. They would also be checking all CCTV on his most likely route to Southend Central; London Underground stations covering the entire journey from Fulham Broadway through to Tower Hill, and street CCTV between Tower Hill and Fenchurch Street. Although Jake had received a text saying Will was in Southend on the night of the twenty-fifth there was no guarantee that it was sent from Southend or indeed sent by Will; it could be that Will never even made it out of London. But on the assumption he did, they would also be checking CCTV between Fenchurch Street and Southend Central, as well as talking to London Underground and Network Rail staff who would have been on duty during the given time window.

Back at home, though, officers would be visiting Willem's house on Barclay Road at 09:00 to do an onsite search to see if there was any further evidence that might indicate if he had other plans that he had not chosen to share with Jake.