He selected a knife with a three-inch blade, razor sharp.
Reed slid it into the pocket of his jacket, then pushed a handkerchief in on top of it.
Time to go.
Twenty-five minutes and Becky would be leaving school.
His timing should be perfect.
He headed for the front door.
Ninety-four
‘There’s no answer’ said Cath anxiously, the mobile phone gripped in her hand.
‘We’ve got to warn him’ Shanine repeated.
Cath was already turning, hurrying towards the road.
She had to go to Frank.
‘Who would want to kill your brother?’ Talbot asked.
‘I haven’t got a clue’ she gasped, pulling the keys of the Fiat from her pocket.
‘What’s his address?’ Talbot snapped.
Cath told him.
‘And a car? Make, registration?’ he added.
She stopped in her tracks, flustered.
‘Come on, for Christ’s sake. Think’ the DI urged.
‘Dark blue …’ she faltered. ‘Honda Civic’
‘The reg?’ Talbot pressed.
‘Jesus Christ, Talbot, how can I remember?’
‘If you want him to stay alive you’d better remember’ the policeman snapped.
She held his stare for a moment, her mind spinning.
‘F’ she said, chewing a nail, desperate to remember. ‘F720 PPX. That’s it. I’m sure. F720 PPX.’
The DI turned to Rafferty.
‘Put out a call to any units near that address,’ he instructed. ‘And tell them I want that car traced, too.’
The DS nodded and hurried off to relay the information.
‘You get to him now’ Talbot said to Cath. ‘We can have men at his flat within ten minutes. Fuck knows what they’re going to say to him when they get there, though.’
Cath managed a smile.
‘Thanks, Talbot’ she said.
‘Just doing my job.’
She nodded. Then she was gone.
Frank Reed sat behind the wheel of the Civic gazing into empty air.
Across the street two women were standing talking, one of them gently pushing a baby-buggy back and forth, occasionally looking down at its occupant.
A little girl about a year old, Reed guessed.
A beautiful child.
Like Becky was at that age.
As she still was.
He pulled the summons from his inside pocket and scanned it for the hundredth time that day.
The words and letters didn’t miraculously change.
Things didn’t get any better.
Summons.
He tossed it onto the passenger seat then started the engine, stepping on the accelerator a little too hard so the roar of the Civic caused the two women to look round at him.
He was aware of their stares but ignored it.
Reed stuck the car in gear and pulled away.
As he did he patted the pocket of his jacket and felt the knife there.
‘There could be another box for you,’ said Shanine, glancing across at Cath, who seemed more concerned with the car which was blocking her passage ahead.
She hit her hooter and swerved around the vehicle.
‘There might be another Misfortune Box with-‘
‘I know that,’ Cath snapped. ‘All that matters now is that I get to Frank in time.’
She drove on.
Frank Reed parked the Civic across the road from the main entrance of the school and waited.
He shifted in his seat, rolling his neck gently.
There was pain beginning to nag at the base of his skull.
He looked at his watch, checked it against the dashboard clock.
Not long now.
Other cars were parked across the street, some close to his own. More parents preparing to meet their offspring, he assumed.
He scanned some of the faces seated in the stationary vehicles.
No sign of Ward or Ellen.
Again he felt the knife in his pocket.
Again he glanced down at the summons, still lying discarded on the passenger seat.
He paid no attention to the police car which cruised slowly past.
‘Puma Three, come in. Over.’
Talbot snatched up the two-way as he heard the metallic voice crackle over the airwaves. ‘Puma Three here. Over,’ he responded.
‘That dark blue Honda Civic you wanted traced,’ the metallic voice said. ‘One of the mobile units has clocked it.’
‘Where?’ Talbot demanded.
‘Outside a school in Macklin Street, Camden. Over.’
Rafferty glanced across at his companion.
‘Tell the officers on the scene to approach the driver. Over,’ Talbot said.
‘Do it now.’
Ninety-five
Frank Reed saw the first few children scurrying through the school gates and sat up excitedly in the driver’s seat.
He turned slightly, eyes scanning the ever-increasing flow of children in blue uniforms, who were now flooding from the gates, some in groups, some in twos or singly.
There was still no sign of either Ellen or Ward.
He would be able to get to Becky first.
If only he could see her.
A number of the other children had already climbed into waiting cars, ushered in by their parents. Some of the vehicles were pulling away.
Heading home.
Home.
He looked across at the summons, the knot of muscles at the side of his jaw throbbing angrily.
He didn’t even see the police car parked twenty or thirty yards behind him.
Didn’t notice the two uniformed men climb out and begin walking towards his car.
Becky emerged from the school gates with two of her friends, all three of them chattering and laughing.
God, she was so beautiful when she laughed.
His little girl.
