‘Is that all? Only good?’
Troy’s cheeks reddened. ‘Well, I was going to say brave and brilliant but, given what you just did, I think I’ll stick with dead good.’
Lexi smiled. ‘If we’re into compliments, you’re doing all right — for a major. Better than my last partner.’
‘Thanks.’
Outside, the few lamps of Langhorn hardly made an impression on the darkness. As they swept past the reservoir on the main road, Troy picked out the glow from the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic and a distant glimmer that might have marked the lakeside position of Avril Smallcross’s house or the nearby water treatment office. Silhouettes of trees chopped the lights, making them appear to wink on and off as the car headed for the community of Overdale beyond.
‘Do you reckon we’re on our way to a chat with Sergio Treize?’ Lexi asked, tapping the keys of her life-logger at the same time.
‘Probably.’
‘How many different names can one man have?’
‘Just remember,’ Troy said, ‘whatever he’s called,
he’s perfectly capable of clobbering someone over the head with a blunt object and slitting the odd throat or two.’
‘Terabyte says he’s lost the phone signal. We don’t know where he is any more.’
‘Perhaps he was expecting to hear from Ely by now. Maybe he knows something’s gone wrong so he’s smashed his phone to make sure no one can trace it.’
When Overdale first came into view, it was a dome of diffuse yellow light. As they got closer, they began to distinguish curved lines of lamplight that defined the streets of the community.
Lexi lifted up her life-logger and showed Troy a photograph. It was the fountain outside the Rural Retreat Transplant Clinic and two rows of people were posing in front of it. ‘I found this. The caption says it was taken to mark the clinic’s opening ceremony,’ she told him. ‘No information but, look, there’s Ely Eight — in his innocent period, when he could still hold a scalpel steady. And Gianna. Check out the back, though. Imagine this man without hair but with white glasses. That’s a good likeness of Sergio Treize.’
Troy shrugged. ‘Is it?’
‘There’s not enough definition for a conclusive result from facial recognition software, but it doesn’t rule him out.’
‘If you chop his hair off but don’t add glasses, it could be a younger Kofi Seven.’
Lexi studied the image again. ‘Well, now you mention it … But forget it. Kofi’s on our side.’
Gareth Riley Thirteen did not live in one of the regular properties. The car took Troy and Lexi to the west of Overdale’s main residential zone and up to the entrance of a separate stone building. The iron gate didn’t open automatically so they got out and surveyed the house and its garden. The drive swerved in front of the house and led to a large garage to one side. Attached to the front of Gareth’s home, three spotlights blazed, but the curtains and windows were not brightened by internal lamps.
‘Asleep or not in,’ Lexi guessed.
‘If he knows we’re on his tail …’
‘He’ll have gone — or he’s lying in wait for us.’
‘Not good either way.’ Troy shuddered in the cold night air.
‘Let’s get on with it,’ Lexi prompted, walking away from the gate. ‘The wall’s easy to climb this way.’
She was right. It was a jagged dry-stone wall providing plenty of grips and toeholds. In a few seconds, they had both clambered up and jumped down onto a large neat lawn. Striding towards the front door, Troy felt exposed. ‘If he’s at one of the windows with a gun …’
‘Duck.’
‘Yeah. If he’s only got one bullet, that’ll do the trick.’
‘It’s dark,’ Lexi replied. ‘He’ll miss. Anyway, life-loggers are a good defence. Not many bad guys attack when they know everything’s being monitored.’
They didn’t remain in the shadows. They soon found themselves within the glow of the spotlight over the door. But no one fired at them. There was no sound except the quiet groaning of an oak tree as it swayed in the wind.
There was no response to Troy’s ringing of the doorbell. There was no response to a hefty bang on the door either.
The two detectives looked at each other and Lexi said, ‘We can only break in if we think someone’s in danger or if we’re sure we can prevent a serious crime.’
Aware that their life-loggers would be used to make sure that they had acted correctly, Troy answered formally, ‘I’m sure there’ll be evidence that’ll help us stop more mutilations and maybe murders.’
‘Me too.’
Lexi examined the door and took a step backwards, ready to kick her way in. Her right leg flew forward at amazing speed and crashed against the panel nearest the lock. Wood splintered and the door sprang back. ‘Well, if he’s in, he knows we’re on our way.’ Before entering, she said, ‘You watch my back and I’ll watch yours. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
She hesitated in the hallway, next to the light switch. ‘I don’t know about you, but I prefer to see where I’m going — and what clues are on offer.’
‘And who’s lurking in the corner with a great big knife.’
Lexi turned on the lamps to reveal a large but cluttered entrance. At once, she made for a small wooden shoe rack. Bending down and speaking in a hush, she said, ‘Size twelves, but those Adiboks aren’t here.’ She stood up again and glanced around. ‘No one with a knife.’
‘So far.’
‘Let’s see if we can sort out his identity.’ Treading softly, she made for the door at the end of the passage.
‘It’d be a good idea to check the bedrooms first — in case he’s asleep upstairs,’ Troy whispered.
With a sly grin, Lexi nodded. ‘I tend to rummage for clues first, forgetting the obvious way of finding things out — like taking a look at his face.’ She crept up the staircase with Troy.
They didn’t need to speak. They checked out each room in silence, communicating with glances and gestures. Troy pushed each door aside gently and Lexi peered inside. Of the three bedrooms, two had unmade beds. They were clearly unused. The other was Gareth’s but the bed was empty. The bathroom was also vacant.
‘He’s downstairs,’ Lexi muttered, ‘or not here at all.’
The living room was ordinary. A sofa and two easy chairs, a shelf of trinkets above the gas fire, a coffee table, a music centre, a large rubber plant to the side of a bay window. In daylight, Gareth would have good views over the countryside. Troy peered behind the sofa and all other possible hiding places, but found no one ready to pounce on them. Lexi was drawn to the piles of possessions and let out a contented murmur. From among the trinkets, she extracted a ring. Threading it on her pen so she could examine it without touching, she said, ‘Hey presto. One blue stone missing.’ She let the ring slide off the pen and into a small evidence bag.
‘Nice,’ Troy whispered.
‘I’ll get a team in here tomorrow. There might be more.’
‘What’s the betting there’s Icelandic death metal downloaded onto the music system?’
Lexi nodded. ‘I’ll get that checked as well.’
They tiptoed back along the hallway, checking the downstairs toilet and kitchen as they went. ‘The sink’s not wet,’ Troy said, ‘and there’s no food or drink left out.’
When they went into the final room, Lexi turned on the light and gasped.
Troy groaned.
It was a well-equipped computer room but it looked as if it had been thoroughly trashed. Broken circuit boards and damaged hard drives were scattered over the messy bench. There was also a mobile phone, mangled and minus its battery.
‘Looks to me like an attempt to wipe electronic evidence,’ said Troy.
‘Yeah, but why?’
Now that they had been in every room, convinced that Gareth was not inside the house, Troy spoke up. ‘First, a detective keeps calling him about his chat room and then — maybe — Ely doesn’t make an agreed contact after his raid on the hall of rest.’