handler and his dog moved on to continue their search in the other direction. Brock and Kathy stood against the duct wall as Leon and the SOCO team moved in.
‘This belongs to the boy I told you about,’ Kathy said. ‘In the games arcade. Wiff Smith. I’m sure of it.’
‘How long’s he been living down here, I wonder?’
‘Winston Starkey should know how long he’s been coming here. And Speedy and the other camera operators, you’d think they would have spotted him.’
‘Like a mouse, down here in the dark.’ Brock shook his head sadly. ‘Hard to believe, isn’t it?’
‘Brock, look at this.’ Leon was kneeling, his torch beam on something lying in a fold of the sleeping bag. He carefully pushed the cloth back to reveal the small glass bottle.
‘Can you read it?’
The printing on the label was tiny, and Leon had to crouch low to make it out. Finally he read, ‘Ketapet, ketamine hydrochloride, one hundred milligrams per millilitre, twenty-millilitre multidose vial. There’s a syringe here, too. Empty, but used, I’d say.’
‘Like Kerri,’ Brock said. ‘Just like Kerri. A mouse that’s taken a poison bait.’
He and Kathy watched silently as the others worked methodically across the area, taking photographs, recording items. One of the SOCOs looked up from examining an old blanket against the far wall. ‘What colour is the kid’s hair, Kathy?’
‘Black. Bit greasy-looking. Probably doesn’t bathe much.’
‘I’ve got blonde over here. Several strands, about six inches long.’
Kathy stared at the graffitied holly wreath with its YULETIDE GREETINGS silver message, listening to the door chimes dying inside the house. When Mrs Tait opened the front door a waft of fried liver and onions billowed out into the cold night. She told Kathy that Naomi was at her friend Lisa’s flat, and Kathy thanked her and continued along the deck.
As she was crossing the bridge connecting the deck to Jonquil Court, she became aware of some kind of argument ahead, a woman’s voice, angry and high-pitched, interspersed with laughter. When she reached the corner of the court she saw the woman, elderly, her shoulders stooped over a walking frame, head thrust forward belligerently towards a group of children dancing in front of her. In the stark glare of the deck lights, heavy bulkhead fittings protected by wire cages, her face and neck reminded Kathy of the leathery head of an old tortoise, a pet she’d had as a child. The woman was screaming, ‘Bugger off! I’m a copper in disguise! Bugger off or I’ll arrest you!’ This was causing a good deal of merriment among the kids, who were finding new ways to goad her to more and more ludicrous claims. ‘I thought you was a paratrooper, granny!’ one of them yelled, poking her in the ribs with a stick.
‘Hey, stop that!’ Kathy called, striding up to them.
For a moment they were undecided, then they saw the look on her face and began to scatter, calling back abuse at the old woman as they ran.
‘You all right?’ Kathy said to her. ‘Where’s your home, dear?’
But the old woman knew that danger lurked everywhere. ‘Keep away from me!’ she screamed at Kathy. ‘Keep away or I’ll arrest you! I’m a bleedin’ copper I am!’
‘Okay, okay,’ Kathy said calmly. As she carried on towards Lisa’s front door, she added, ‘Just get yourself home. It’s the safest place to be,’ and immediately doubted the wisdom of her advice.
Lisa answered her knock with a timid and somewhat reluctant invitation to come in. She was alone in the flat with Naomi, and when Kathy asked when her mother would be home, Lisa seemed uncertain. On the dining-room table was a stack of half-opened sweets of various kinds: Yorkie and Bounty bars, tubes of Rollos and Smarties. Child comforters, Kathy thought, and they did look very young the pair of them, dark eyes in pale faces examining her cautiously as they all sat down.
‘I wondered what you girls could tell me about a boy who hangs out in the mall. His name’s Wiff, Wiff Smith.
You know who I mean?’
They both nodded mutely.
‘Well? What’s his story?’
They shrugged vaguely. Naomi said, ‘Dunno really.’
‘Where does he come from, any idea?’
They looked at the floor, heads shaking.
‘Does he go to your school? No? Does he have any relatives? Brothers or sisters? Any special friends? What about Winston Starkey, in the games arcade? No?’ Kathy sat back, watching them. ‘You’re not being much help, girls. Please think, will you? Anything at all.’
Silence.
‘We’re worried that something may have happened to him, like Kerri,’ she said, and that brought their heads up, eyes widening. ‘We’ve found where he lived.’
‘Where?’ Naomi whispered. ‘Where was that?’
‘Under the mall at Silvermeadow, in the basement. It seems he had a sort of den hidden down there. Did you know about that?’
They did; she saw it in their eyes shifting away.
‘He told us… he said he lived there, under the centre. We didn’t believe him. Not at first.’
‘But later?’
Naomi nodded. ‘He said he knew things, saw things.’
Kathy leant forward. ‘What things?’
But her interest seemed to frighten them. They looked away, at the Yorkie bars and the blank TV screen in the corner of the room.
Then Naomi asked another question: ‘Why do you think something’s happened to him?’
‘We’re not certain, but we think he’s been given a drug.’
‘Which one?’
The question, asked very rapidly, brought Kathy up short.
‘It’s called ketamine. People also call it K, or Special K. Have you heard of it?’
But even as she asked, Kathy saw that they had, for Lisa had burst into tears, and Naomi looked stunned.
‘Come on now,’ Kathy said, a firmer note in her voice. ‘Tell me. Tell me what you know. It’s important.’
‘Kerri…’ Naomi began hesitantly. ‘She was trying K.’
‘Yes?’
Naomi nodded reluctantly.
‘Where did she get it from?’
‘We didn’t know. Someone was selling her stuff.’
‘You have no idea who?’
Naomi hesitated and looked sideways at Lisa, who was absorbed in her hankie. ‘No, but… I think…’
‘Yes?’ Kathy had to work to control her frustration and sound calm.
‘Wiff was his legs.’
‘His legs?’
‘That’s what she called him, his legs. Wiff did the running around for him.’
Kathy had a sudden vivid image of Winston Starkey in the role of Fagin, sending out his army of little waifs to sell his drugs. ‘You must have had some idea though, who he was working for? Come on, Naomi. Was it Starkey? The man who runs the arcade?’
The girl shook her head and stooped, struggling with some immense difficulty.
‘He sees everything. He knows everything…’ she whispered. ‘That’s what Wiff said. He watches us. He’ll hurt us if we tell on him. Wiff warned Kerri, he told her not to tell anyone or the man would kill her. Wiff was scared of him too. Everyone is.’
‘Naomi,’ Kathy said intently, ‘Kerri is dead, and now Wiff is missing. You must help us to stop this man before it’s too late. What else did Wiff tell you?’
‘Wiff said he has protection. I think it may be one of those men,’ she whispered. ‘You know, in the black uniforms. Security. Someone in security. He knew Wiff was there, in the basement, but he let him stay.’
