Cage of Bones

from the hospital. Bruises on his hands and arms where needles had been yanked out. Head tucked in. Shivering.

It didn’t matter. Soon he would be beyond cold and beyond heat.

Soon he would be nothing more than the spark that kept the flame of the Garden alight. Keeping it alive.

Until the next sacrifice.

And the next.

He crossed to the workbench. Put the torch down. Picked up his first tool. A sickle. He didn’t need to touch it. He could see how sharp it was just by looking. By the way it caught the torchlight, sent it bouncing round the walls. He replaced it. Picked up the torch again.

Turned and left the chamber.

There was nothing to do now except wait.

For the right time.

Wait.

And savour.

104

‘The Gardener,’ said Mickey once more, ‘how can we find him?’

Lynn Windsor looked close to breaking down. She was shaking. Mickey had never seen anyone literally shake with fear.

‘I… I… ’

He pressed on. ‘Just tell me, Lynn. It’ll be so much easier for you if you do. Tell me. Where’s the Gardener?’

‘I… I… don’t know… ’

He sighed. ‘I think you can do better than that. You’re so unhappy, so scared. Just tell me and it’ll all feel much better. Come on.’

Heads nearly touching, hands nearly together, he was close to cracking her. He could feel it. One last try. A gentle push to take her over the edge.

‘Come on, Lynn… ’

Then he heard Marina’s voice once more. ‘Good, Mickey. Here’s something else. If that doesn’t work, ask her about the Elders.’

Mickey gave a puzzled frown to the window. Small, so only Marina could catch it.

‘Please. Trust me. Ask her about the Elders. Ask her where they are. She’s the Teacher. Tell her you know that.’

Marina’s voice disappeared. Mickey was left alone with Lynn Windsor. He didn’t understand what Marina had said. But what she had fed him seemed to be having the right effect. So he would continue, pretend he felt more confident than he did. Use the words. See what they did.

‘Lynn… what about the Elders? What would they say?’

Her head jerked up in shock. Her eyes, tearful, rimmed red and black from crying and make-up, locked on to his. Stared at him. Her hand reached out for his. Grasped it and clung on, like he was the last life raft on the Titanic.

‘The Elders, Lynn. Would they be happy to see you here like this?’

She was shaking now, like she was about to fall apart. Both psychologically and physically, thought Mickey.

‘That’s right about the Elders, isn’t it? You are the Teacher, after all.’

Mickey had no idea what he was saying, but he couldn’t believe the effect the words were having on her.

‘Come on. Just tell me… ’

She looked up once more, imploring him, her mouth moving but no sound emerging.

‘Come on, Lynn… ’ Mickey’s voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy between them even deeper than that they had shared the previous night. ‘Tell me. And it’ll be all over… ’

She reached forward for him, hands clinging desperately to him, working her way up his arms. Grabbing him, holding him, just about crawling over the table to be near him.

‘Please… ’ Her voice was broken, almost shattered in pieces. A vocal manifestation of her mental state. ‘Please, help me… help me… ’

‘I will,’ said Mickey, whispering once more, not wanting to break the moment. ‘I will. Tell me where the Gardener is and I’ll help you. I promise.’

She put her head on his arms, sobbing.

‘Tell me. Please.’

She looked up, mind made up, mouth open, ready to speak.

And then the door burst open.

‘What the fuck’s going on here?’

Mickey turned. DCI Glass was standing behind him.

And he didn’t look happy.

105

‘What the hell were you thinking of?’

Glass was in the observation room with Mickey and Marina. The room was so small, it was crowded with just one person in it. But three, standing there amidst all the old filing cabinets and broken office furniture, made it look massively overcrowded. It also made Glass seem even angrier. Mickey could almost feel the heat from the DCI’s words as they left his mouth.

Behind them, Lynn Windsor sat at the table. Sobbing, wiping her eyes with a tissue. Next to her, a consoling arm around her shoulder, was her boss, Michael Fenton. His head close to hers, whispering. The sound was switched off. They couldn’t hear what he was saying.

Mickey turned to Glass, realising that the question wasn’t rhetorical and he was expecting an answer.

Marina got there first. ‘In the absence of anyone else in the office, Mickey came to me,’ she said. ‘He had strong suspicions about Lynn Windsor. She’d been questioned already but he thought she would benefit from a more formal interview.’

Mickey studied Marina as she spoke. She was watching Glass’s responses, wary. As if she was measuring her words, careful of what she said to him. Mickey had found himself doing that with Glass because he didn’t trust him, but Marina’s actions confirmed that he was doing the right thing.

‘And what made you think that?’

Again, Marina spoke before Mickey could. ‘We received information that she was in some way connected with the abductor and would-be murderer of the boy taken from the hospital.’

‘What kind of information?’

‘Something to do with the Gardener?’ Marina kept her face as blank as possible while she spoke.

The effect on Glass was immediate. It was clear he knew what she was talking about. It was equally clear that he was trying to pretend he didn’t. He waited a few seconds, absorbing the information, letting his features settle down, preparing his response.

‘What… what d’you mean? Who’s the Gardener?’

‘He’s the person we believe is responsible for the boy’s abduction,’ said Mickey.

Glass turned to him. Face like stone, eyes like granite. ‘And what would make you believe that?’

‘Information received from an informant,’ said Mickey. ‘A confidential informant. It… involved Lynn Windsor. So I made the decision to bring her in for questioning.’

‘But how could she… how could she know anything? She’s a solicitor, for God’s sake.’