The Adjusters (21 page)

Cycling to the side at the last moment, she looked left in time to see the sandy-coloured vehicle steam past at full speed, just centimetres away. It didn’t slow for a second, taking the
corner up ahead with such pace that the wheels on one side seemed to lift. Then it was gone.

As it had passed she’d caught sight of Trooper Dan staring right at her through the window…

Fox stopped on the side of the road, taking several deep breaths to compose herself. One thing was certain in her mind: whatever had happened to the reporter, he wouldn’t ever show up.
Trooper Dan had got to him first. The realization chilled her to the bone.

She’d brought someone into the events in Newton and he’d suffered because of it. Maybe died even. She thought of Henry and Christian and the very real danger they’d put
themselves in. Perhaps the sensible thing was to turn away… Pretend nothing was going on…

Fox shook her head. She wasn’t going to let them frighten her off. Because that’s what men like Mallory and Trooper Dan relied on: others being too scared to fight back.

Someone had to take a stand. And who else was there? The thought of what lay ahead terrified her, but somehow it made her start pedalling towards Newton at double the speed.

Henry arrived back at the lodge an hour before school normally finished, fully expecting to find his mother waiting for him there. The nurse from the medical centre would have
told Mallory that he’d visited Gabrielle when he should have been in school. And Mallory, in turn, would have told his mom. As he opened the front door, he braced himself for another
lecture…

But the house was silent. The kind of silence that belongs to an empty place.

“Mom?” Henry called as he walked through to the kitchen, though he’d sensed already that she wasn’t there. He was off the hook for a while, he guessed, but it was only
delaying the inevitable.

Then he saw the note on the kitchen counter, written in his mother’s recognizable, blocky handwriting.

Business trip came up – will be away for a couple of nights. Don’t think this lets you off the hook – Mr. Mallory will be keeping an eye on you. Don’t give him a hard
time. Will call later. Love, Mom.

Henry’s relief that his absence from school would probably go unnoticed was quickly replaced with concern for his mother. A business trip? Why now? And where had she gone?

He picked up the phone by the fridge and dialled her cell. It rang five times and then went to the messaging service. Henry frowned. Her cell phone was always by her side and if she saw it was
him ringing, she always picked up.

“Hi, Mom,” he said after the beep. “Is everything okay? Give me a call back.”

He hung up and was about to walk away when the phone started ringing. He snatched it up. “Mom?”

“It’s John Mallory,” the voice on the other end answered.

“Oh.”

“Did you get your mother’s note? She’s gone to Chicago for a couple of nights. They’re having a few issues at our lab there that I think she can help with. She felt real
bad that she didn’t see you before she left.”

“Right,” Henry said, still finding it hard to believe that she’d gone without speaking to him.

“She tried to find you in class,” Mallory said. “But you weren’t there.”

Henry closed his eyes. Of course he wasn’t.

“I was feeling sick, so I left early.”

“Sure you did,” Mallory said and Henry felt he could detect just the slightest hint of amusement in the man’s tone, as if the whole thing were a massive joke.
Or some kind
of game. A game where Mallory was in complete control.
“I’d like you to come to dinner with me this evening. I’ll send a car to pick you up at seven.”

“I can get my own dinner, thanks.”

“I’m sure you can. But I’d like to get to know you a little better and I promised your mom. What do you say?”

Henry was silent for a moment. He looked around the empty house, wondering what would happen if he walked out right at that moment…went to Newton and stayed with Fox. Would the guards on
the gate try to stop him from leaving? He couldn’t escape the feeling that this was his one and only opportunity to get out. But Mallory had the answers to what was going on at
Malcorp… And this was perhaps the best chance he’d ever have to get them.

“Fine,” Henry said. “That would be good. I’ll look forward to it.”

He sensed that Mallory was smiling on the other end of the phone as he said, “Not half as much as I will.”

Mallory’s residence was on the northern edge of the Malcorp complex, a single-storey building made of glass and concrete in a harsh, modernist style. As the man had
promised, a buggy had arrived at Henry’s lodge at 7 p.m. sharp. It was driven by a guy in a black suit who introduced himself as Wilson, Mallory’s butler. Henry took a seat in the back
of the buggy and sat in silence as Wilson drove them across the complex. The butler wasn’t a chatty type, but Henry guessed he wasn’t supposed to be.

They arrived at Mallory’s house less than five minutes later, driving into an underground garage that appeared to be at least as large as the building above. As Wilson steered the buggy
down the entry ramp, lights came on automatically, revealing rows of vintage sports cars – convertibles with gleaming, pristine paint jobs. On the other side of the garage was a line of
brand-new vehicles, Lamborghinis, Porsches, the biggest Hummer he’d ever seen and several motorbikes that looked as if they belonged on a racetrack. Every vehicle was spotlessly clean, like
they’d been taken out of the showroom and never used.

“Wow,” Henry said as he climbed out of the buggy.

“You like cars, son?”

It wasn’t Wilson who had spoken, but Mallory himself. Henry turned to see the man descending a flight of stairs on the far side of the garage. He was dressed as casual as he got – in
a pair of jeans and a sports jacket.

“I guess,” Henry said.

Mallory grinned and stuck one of his unlighted cigars in his mouth. “Well, maybe I’ll let you take one of these for a spin when you’re a little older. Come on up!”

Henry followed his host up the stairs into a brightly lit room that appeared to run the entire length of the building. Along one wall, floor-to-ceiling glass windows looked out across a terraced
garden and an infinity pool. From the elevated position of the residence, it would be possible to stand in the pool and look out across most of the Malcorp complex. Henry wondered if that was what
Mallory did when he was alone in the house – gaze over his empire like a king.

“Dinner is ready when you are, Mr. Mallory,” Wilson announced, appearing at another doorway.

“What do you say, Henry? You hungry?”

“Yeah,” he answered, trying to sound casual. Actually he was starving, having missed his lunch.

“Over here,” Mallory said, giving Wilson a nod as he led Henry towards the other end of the room.

The interior of the main living space was subtly divided into different zones, Henry noted, as they approached a dining table set for a meal. Just beyond was a group of leather sofas, arranged
around a giant television that appeared simply to be hanging in the air. Beyond that there were bookshelves filled with leather-bound books that seemed slightly out of place against the hard lines
of the rest of the interior. It was cool and beautiful, but there was something unforgiving about the place.

Mallory ushered him into a seat at the table, which Henry noticed was laid for three.

“Blake will be joining us in a minute,” Mallory said as he took a seat to Henry’s left. “You don’t mind?”

“Why would I?” Henry replied, remembering his last meeting with Blake. If the kid tried anything again, he’d be ready for him this time. He looked down at the expensive
silverware and then at Mallory, who was studying him with an interested expression. Henry hated to admit it, but the man reminded him of his mother in that respect – they were both scientists
and from time to time both had the habit of looking at you like you were a participant in some kind of live experiment.

“I’ve got to apologize for taking your mom from you, Henry,” Mallory said as Wilson appeared and filled their glasses with water from a jug. “We had a little emergency at
the Chicago lab. Contamination incident. I needed someone to deal with the problem fast. It took a lot of persuading to get her to fly out without speaking to you.”

“That’s okay.”

“If you’d been contactable, I would have suggested you went along with her. We had my private helicopter pick her up from right outside your lodge.”

Henry nodded, coming to a realization: for some reason Mallory was trying to impress him. The house, the garage downstairs, stories about helicopter trips to the city. It was like he was trying
to sell him on something. But what? That Malcorp was a great place to be? That he should be his new dad?

“Oh, well, next time maybe,” Mallory went on, unfolding his napkin and laying it across his knees. “And don’t worry about playing hooky from school. It can be our little
secret. We’ll just tell your mom you were taken sick and sent to the medical room, alright?”

Henry nodded as Mallory gave him a conspiratorial wink.
Still trying to get me on side,
he thought.
Make me an accomplice in a lie. Have to play along…see if he’ll let
something slip about Christian…

Blake appeared and stood beside the table as if waiting for some order. He didn’t look at Henry or Mallory, keeping his eyes fixed ahead as Wilson set out their entrées on the
table.

“Looks great, Wilson,” Mallory said, looking down at his plate as if he hadn’t even noticed Blake’s presence. “What the hell is it?”

“
Escargot de Bourgogne
,” the butler answered.

Mallory raised his eyebrows at Henry. “How’s your French, kid? Wilson would rather cut out his tongue than read a menu in plain English.”

“Burgundy snails,” Henry said, thinking of his difficulties in French class at Malcorp High. Was this Mallory’s reason for picking the starter? Or was he just reading too much
into everything?

Mallory turned his attention to Blake. “Sit yourself down. You’re late.”

“Sorry, sir,” Blake said as he took a seat opposite Henry. Wilson melted into the background and they began to eat. Henry had never had snails before and, although the idea of eating
something that you might find crawling across a rock in your backyard repulsed him a little, they actually tasted great. Kind of like earthy prawns. As he ate, he caught Mallory casting glances at
him and once again felt he was being tested. On the other side of the table, Blake cleared his plate in a mechanical fashion, chewing each mouthful without expression. When they had finished
eating, Wilson reappeared and cleared their plates.

In the break between courses Mallory made small talk about swimming and asked Henry about his last school. Blake sat in silence, neither sullen nor uninterested in the conversation. He was
merely blank, as if someone had put him on mute. Mallory was pleasant and seemed genuinely interested in his responses, but Henry couldn’t help feeling the entire thing was leading up to
something. That the whole meal…the polite talk…was just a prelude to the real purpose of the evening.

“We’ll have dessert later,” Mallory informed Wilson as he cleared the main course plates. He patted his stomach. “Give this one some time to settle.”

“Very good, sir,” the butler said, backing away with the plates.

Outside, the sun had practically set, casting red light across the floor that softened the straight edges of the room. In the stillness of the evening, Henry thought the place actually seemed
inviting – but perhaps that was just the effect of the food. At Mallory’s suggestion, they moved to a set of leather sofas angled to look out over the pool, which was perfectly still
and catching the glow of the dying sun. Wilson reappeared and lit candles on a low table in front of them.

“Very romantic,” Mallory said wryly as the butler disappeared once more. “So, what do you think of my home, Henry?”

For a moment, Henry wondered if he was asking him about the building or the complex or the whole area, even Newton. Mallory owned everything, after all. “It’s amazing,” he
said, looking around the interior.

There must have been something in his tone that suggested uncertainty, because Mallory added, “But?”

Henry looked at him and shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to living in the city. Things are a bit less…ordered there.”

Mallory snorted. “You can say that again. Kids going off the rails on drugs. The effects of vandalism on every street corner. Virtual no-go areas for law-abiding citizens.”

This was said with such vehemence that Henry didn’t know how to respond. Mallory put a forced smile on his face, but it did nothing to soften the moment.

“I guess it’s natural,” he went on. “People are weak. They’d rather feed on one another than strike out and make a decent living for themselves. So they turn to
crime.”

Henry frowned. “I’m not sure it’s
weakness
…”

“Then what is it?” Mallory snapped back.

“People have lost their jobs. They’re living in poverty…”