changed. A thin boy with long, dark hair and pale skin was facing them. With a strange jolt, a sense of unreality, Jamie realized he was looking at himself.
“…wanted in connection with the murder of his legal guardian, Don White,” the reporter was saying.
The picture divided into two. Jamie and Scott side by side. They were obviously twins, but on the television screen they didn’t look so identical.
“Scott and Jamie Tyler are identical twins. Although they are only fourteen years old, they are said to be armed and dangerous. The public is urged not to approach them.”
“This is crazy…” Jamie whispered.
“Sssh!” Alicia was staring at the screen.
The picture changed to the Reno Playhouse. There must have been four or five reporters standing outside, each one with their own personal microphone and cameraman, clamouring for attention. Their voices could be heard in the background as the local reporter – a blonde, excited-looking woman – told the story.
“Scott and Jamie Tyler were performing here, at this theatre in downtown Reno,” she was saying. “They were part of a so-called mind-reading act that used simple trickery to fool their audience. According to witnesses, both boys were heavily involved in substance abuse and last night it seems they lost control, stealing the gun from their guardian, Don White, and turning it against him…”
“It’s all lies!” Jamie exclaimed. He turned to Alicia, suddenly afraid that she wouldn’t believe him. “What she’s saying. None of it’s true!”
“Jamie…”
“He didn’t even have a gun!”
“Listen to me, Jamie-”
But at that moment there was a blast of sirens outside the house that could mean only one thing. The police had arrived.
As far as Jamie was concerned, it was all just another bad dream, worse even than the one he’d had the night before. It seemed to him that one impossibility after another was piling up on him and he almost expected the grey cowboy from his dream to jump out at him from behind the sofa, just for good measure. He heard the screech of tyres, the sound of cars pulling up in the street. At the same time, the squawk of radio transmitters filled the air. Doors opened and slammed shut. Somebody somewhere called out an order. “This way!”
It was Alicia who took control of the situation. As Jamie stood, rooted to the spot, she grabbed hold of him and suddenly she was very close.
“We have to move,” she said urgently. “You can’t be found here.”
“But…”
“You heard what they said on the news. That’s what they all think. You’ve been set up! If the police get you, you’re finished. We have to go.”
“Go where?”
Jamie turned towards the front door but it was already far too late. He heard footsteps coming up the drive. The front patio had been laid with gravel and the boots crunched against it. Alicia understood. That way was blocked. “Into the kitchen!” she commanded.
Jamie was angry with himself. The situation was completely out of control. If Scott had been here, he would have known what to do. Once again Jamie was weak and helpless, allowing himself to be pushed around… this time by a woman he had only met a few hours before. Fortunately Alicia had taken charge. A door led into the kitchen. She pulled it open and they went through. And that was when they realized that they hadn’t been on their own in the house after all.
Marcie was lying on the floor and it was obvious – even without the pool of blood – that she was dead. Her arms and legs were spread-eagled almost comically and her cheek was pressed against the linoleum as if she was trying to listen to something in the cellar below. In life, she had been a short, stocky woman. Death had somehow compressed her even more so that she didn’t look quite human. A fat, stuffed doll. But somebody had shot her twice and let the stuffing out.
Jamie tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come. He heard the front door open on the other side of the living room and realized that the police were already in the house. They hadn’t bothered to ring the bell. Somebody muttered something but it was impossible to make out the words against the noise of the TV. Meanwhile, Alicia was looking around. A pair of French windows led into the back garden but she didn’t know if they were locked or not and she didn’t have time to find out. There was another door right next to her. Grabbing Jamie, she pulled him out of the kitchen and into a narrow utility room. There was a washing machine, a drier, a couple of shelves of canned food. She stopped and held up a hand, warning Jamie not to move. At the same moment, the police entered the kitchen.
“Oh, Jesus!” Jamie heard one of the policeman gagging.
“That sure is a beauty.” A second voice.
“Looks like the kids came home last night.”
There was a way out of the utility room. Another door at the far end. Alicia signalled and she and Jamie tiptoed over to it. There had to be at least three policemen in the kitchen, separated from them only by a thin partition wall. The door was locked but the key was there. She reached out and turned it…
Just as a policeman walked into the room behind them. He stood, staring at them, like something straight out of a Hollywood film, with his black, short-sleeved shirt and black shades that completely hid his eyes. He was young and white and he worked out. The ugly tools of his trade dangled from his belt: gun, CS gas canister, handcuffs and baton. For a moment he didn’t say anything. Then his hand dropped down to the gun.
Jamie had been standing behind Alicia. Suddenly he stepped forward so that he stood directly opposite the policeman. She saw him look up and there was something in the boy’s face that she couldn’t recognize, a sort of intensity that seemed almost unworldly.
“There’s nobody here,” he said quietly. “The room’s empty.”
The policeman stared at him, as if puzzled by what he had just been told. Alicia waited for him to say something. But he didn’t. His eyes were vacant. He nodded slowly and walked out again.
Jamie and Alicia heard voices in the kitchen as the officer rejoined the other men.
“Anything?”
“No. There’s nobody there. It’s just an empty room.”
“Hey – Josh. Why don’t you tell the paramedics to get in here? They can start clearing up.”
Jamie glanced at Alicia, as if challenging her to ask questions. But this wasn’t the time. Alicia opened the back door and the two of them passed through into the garage. It was empty apart from a rusty lawnmower and a deep-freeze cabinet. Don had taken his car to the Reno Playhouse and, of course, it had never been driven back. The two doors were closed but there was a window at the back. Jamie opened it and they climbed out. Now the garage was between them and any police officers who might be standing guard at the front. Jamie made sure there was nobody around, then slipped behind the neighbouring house, making his way through the garden where the two girls had played. Only when he was on the other side of the house did he cut back to the street. Alicia’s car was parked right in front of him.
He took one last look at the house where he had lived for the past six months. The entrance was already taped off. There were police officers everywhere: in the porch, on the front lawn, carrying equipment in and out. Three police cars were parked in the street. Distant sirens announced that more were on the way.
Nobody noticed as Jamie and Alicia crossed the pavement and got into the car. And if anyone had turned round, they would assume that the two of them were neighbours. It was only when they were inside the car – and before she had started the engine – that Alicia turned to him.
“What was that?” she demanded. “What did you do to that policeman? How did you make him…?” Her voice trailed away.
“I can’t tell you,” Jamie replied. “I don’t know what I did. And it doesn’t matter. Because I’m never going to do it again.”
Alicia nodded and turned the ignition. One of the policemen glanced in their direction but did nothing to stop them.
Alicia put the car into gear and the two of them drove away.
