'Fucking thing,' I remembered Kev saying, 'all the luxury and mod cons of the late nineties, in a car that looks like a nineteen-sixties fridge.'
The kids' bikes were hanging from frames on the wall, together with all the other clutter that families accumulate in garages. I could see the red laser dot on the far wall.
I moved in and cleared through. There was no one here.
I went back to the area of the staircase. Chances were she wasn't going to come out unless her mom and dad came for her, but as I moved I started to call out very gently, 'Kelly! It's Nick! Hello, Kelly, where are you?'
All the time the pistol was pointing forward, ready to take on any threat.
Moving slowly toward the boxes, I said, 'Oh well, since you're not here I'll go. But I think I'll have one more look, and I bet you might be hiding underneath the staircase in those boxes. I'll just have a look... I bet you're in there ...'
There was a pile of large boxes. One had contained a freezer, another a washing machine. Kev had made a sort of cave with them under the staircase and kept a few toys there.
I eased the pistol down my waistband. I didn't want her to see a gun. She'd probably seen and heard enough already.
I put my mouth against a little gap between the boxes.
'Kelly, it's me. Nick. Don't be scared, I'm going to crawl toward you. You'll see my head in a minute, and I want to see a big smile...'
I got down on my hands and knees and kept talking gently as I moved boxes and squeezed through the gap, inching toward the back wall. I wanted to do it nice and slowly. I didn't know how she was going to react.
'I'm going to put my head around the corner now, Kelly.'
I took a deep breath and moved my head around the back of the box, smiling away but ready for the worst.
She was there, facing me, eyes wide with terror, sitting curled up in a fetal position, rocking her body backward and forward, holding her hands over her ears.
'Hello, Kelly,' I said very softly.
She must have recognized me, but didn't reply. She just kept on rocking, staring at me with wide, scared eyes.
'Mommy and Daddy can't come and get you out at the moment, but you can come with me. Daddy told me it would be OK. Are you going to come with me, Kelly?'
Still no reply. I crawled right into the cave until I was curled up beside her. She'd been crying; strands of light brown hair were stuck to her face. I tried to move them away from her mouth. Her eyes were red and swollen.
'You're in a bit of a mess there,' I said.
'Do you want me to clean you up? Come on, let's go and get you sorted out, shall we?' I got hold of her rigid hand and gently guided her out into the garage.
She was dressed in jeans, a denim shirt, running shoes, and a blue nylon fleece. Her hair was straight and just above her shoulders, a bit shorter than I remembered it; she was quite lanky for a seven-year-old, with long, skinny legs. I picked her up in my arms and held her tight as I carried her into the kitchen. I knew the other doors were closed; she wouldn't see her dad.
I sat her down on a chair at the table. 'Mommy and Daddy b said they had to go away for a while but asked me to look after you until they come back, OK?'
She was trembling so much I couldn't tell if her head was nodding or shaking.
I went to the fridge and opened it, hoping to find some comfort food. I found the world's largest Easter egg.
'Mmm, yum do you want some chocolate?'
I'd had a good relationship with Kelly. She was a great kid, and that wasn't just because she was my pal's daughter. I smiled warmly, but she just stared at the table.
I broke off a few pieces and put them on one of the side plates that she'd probably been setting earlier with Aida. I found the Off switch on the radio; I'd had enough relaxing soft rock for one day.
As I looked at Kelly again I suddenly realized I'd fucked up. What was I going to do with her? I couldn't just leave her here: her family was lying dead all over the house. But more important, she knew me. When the police arrived she'd be able to say, 'Nick Stone was here.' They'd soon find out that Nick Stone was one of Daddy's friends; the house was littered with photographs with me in them. And if they did arrest the grinning drunk in the barbecue shots, they'd find that for some strange reason he wasn't Nick Stone at all he was Mrs. Stamford's little boy.
Kev's jacket was hanging over one of the chairs. I said, 'Let's wrap you up in your dad's coat; that'll keep you nice and warm.' At least she'd have something other dad's; with luck it would cheer her up.
There was just a little bit of whimpering in reply. She was almost in rigor mortis with shock, though at least she had turned her head to look at me now. This was where normally I would have let Marsha take over, because a child's mind was far too complicated for me to work out. But I couldn't do that today.
I wrapped the coat around her and said, 'Here you are; get this around you. Look, it's your dad's! Don't tell him, eh, ha ha ha!' I felt something solid in one of the pockets and checked.
'Oh good, look, we can phone him up later.'
I looked out the window no movement. I picked up the trash bag, grabbed Kelly's hand, then realized that to reach the front door I'd have to come out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
'Just sit there a second,' I said.
'I've got to do something.'
I had a quick look to make sure the doors were closed. I thought again about fingerprints, but if I'd missed a set, there was nothing I could do about it now. My only thought was to get out of the area and keep Kelly away from the cops until I'd sorted things out.
I went back and got her and checked the front of the house again for movement. She seemed to be finding it hard to walk.
I had to grip Kev's coat by the collar, half-dragging her toward the car.
I put her in the front passenger seat and smiled.
'There you go; that's nice and warm. Better look after your dad's coat for him. Keep it nice for when you see him.'
Then I threw the trash bag in the back, settled into the driver's seat, put my seat belt on, and turned on the ignition.
We drove off at a really sensible pace, nothing outrageous, nothing likely to be noticed.
We'd gone only a few hundred yards when I thought of something; I looked across at her and said, 'Kelly, put your seat belt on. Do you know how to do that?'
She didn't move, didn't even look at me. I had to do it for her.
I tried to make small talk.
'It's a nice day today, isn't it? Yep, you'll stay with me a while; we'll get everything sorted out.'
Silence.
My mind switched back to the matter in hand. What was I going to do? Whatever I decided, I knew it was no good where we were at the moment. We needed to lose ourselves in a crowd. I headed for Tyson's Corner.
I turned to Kelly and smiled, trying to be the happy-go-lucky Uncle Nick, but it just wasn't happening. She was staring anxiously out the window as if she was being wrenched away from all her familiar landmarks and seeing them for the last time.
'It's OK, Kelly.' I tried to stroke her hair.
She jerked her head away.
Fuck it, just let her get on with it; with luck I'd be able to drop her off somewhere before too long.
I turned my thoughts to Kev. He'd said he had a bit of a problem with my 'friends over the water.' Could it have been PIRA that'd killed him? What the hell for? It was highly unlikely that PIRA would start messing about like that, not in America. It was too professional to bite the hand that was feeding it.
Other things weren't adding up. Why wasn't there a struggle? Both Marsha and Kev knew where the weapons were. Why weren't they used? Why was the front door ajar?
