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Authors: Gabrielle Lord

BOOK: August
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It was no use. His face remained impassive.

‘The girl who called us–your accomplice–who is she? Is she holding Gabbi?’

I glared at him, furious.

‘I can see it’s going to be a long day,’ sighed the sergeant. ‘Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?’

He was on at me for ages, going over and over the same questions, trying to trick me into
admitting
that I’d taken Gabbi–that I knew where she was–that I had accomplices who were holding her while I was in captivity.

I was sick of hearing it.

‘What you’re suggesting is crazy,’ I said, exhausted. ‘Why would I take Gabbi? I can’t look after her. Me? A fugitive? On the run, somehow managing an intensive care unit as well?’

‘We don’t think you took your sister to “look after her”,’ he snarled.

‘You think I’d harm her? Is that what you think?’

‘Why not? Finish what you started back in January,’ he said bluntly. ‘If we hadn’t turned up that day, sending you running with our sirens blaring, I have no doubt you would have
completed
the job. We would have been carrying two dead bodies out of that house.’

‘It
wasn’t
me!’ I yelled.

We were interrupted by another nurse with a tray of food and a drink. She looked nervous
and couldn’t look at me–her hands were
shaking
, making the juice in a plastic cup ripple.

‘It’s OK,’ the sergeant said to her. ‘Just put the food down and be on your way.’

She nodded towards him, put the tray down carefully, and then happily backed out of the room, leaving us behind.

On a plastic plate was a bowl of lumpy,
greyish
stew and some boiled carrots. I was thirsty, but I had no appetite. I was worried sick about Gabbi.

McGrath reached for the restraints on my wrists, holding out a huge, threatening pair of clippers.

‘Can I trust you if I cut those off?’

‘Probably not.’

‘Ah, the first honest thing you’ve said all day!’ The sergeant laughed before clipping the restraints and handing me the tray. ‘You’re nothing I can’t handle.’

I picked up the plastic fork and poked one of the grey lumps. I quickly put the fork down again.

‘Sergeant, please tell me what happened. Where were my mum and uncle when Gabbi was taken? They haven’t been hurt, have they?’

He ignored my questions. ‘Let’s talk about something else,’ he suggested. ‘Why did you break into the undertakers’ premises?’

‘I didn’t break in. The door was left open for me, just like Rathbone said it would be.’

‘Rathbone?’

‘It was all arranged by Mr Sheldrake Rathbone, our family solicitor. He organised the meeting. It was at his brother’s place–the undertakers’. We were going to exchange information.’ The sergeant was looking at me in disbelief again. I thought of something that might help my case. ‘Check my blog and you’ll see his message,’ I said, hoping I wasn’t about to put Winter in
jeopardy
by exposing her messages too. ‘It was a private message. I’ll give you access.’

‘This is very tiring, Callum. Do you think we haven’t already checked your blog? There’s
nothing
there from a “Mr Rathbone”. There aren’t any private messages. You seem to be a mixture of cunning and stupidity. Why on earth would you expect us to believe that your family solicitor would be dealing with a criminal like you–unless he was advising you on how to best confess your crimes? Or preparing for your long-overdue court appearance? Anyway, back to the break-in. Was it just to steal money?’

‘Steal money?’

‘We found the money on you, Cal.’

‘What are you talking about? They must have planted it on me! We need to get back to Gabbi!
Focus on her! You need to find her!’

‘Nice one!’ laughed McGrath, standing up and pacing around the room. ‘
You
, want
us
to find her.’ He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. ‘You’d need to tell
me
what you’ve done with her first.’ He spun around, fixing me with an angry glare. ‘Where is she Cal?’

‘You’re wasting time on me!’ I yelled. ‘You’re letting the real kidnappers get away! What do I have to say to convince you that I had nothing to do with it? You need two names, and two names only–Vulkan Sligo or Oriana de la Force. Rathbone is corrupt. He’s working for Oriana. They’re the ones who are responsible! You need to investigate them. They’re after something I have. Something I
had
,’ I corrected. ‘They’re the criminals! And they’re ruthless! They’re murderers!’

‘Oh sure,’ mocked McGrath, waving his hands in the air. ‘Criminals are always running around pinching little girls in comas. You read about it every day. I’ve had it with your lies and games. I can’t leave until I get the truth and all I’m getting from you is a whole lot of rubbish about criminals being after you. After
you
!
You’re
the criminal! Give me a break!’

McGrath sat back down, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

‘I’ll tell you what we know already. We know
that you took your sister. Furthermore, we know that a short time later you broke into the premises of an undertaking business. Your own stupidity and criminal behaviour led to your accidental burial.’

Accidental burial! I shook my head slowly. How could I possibly convince him?

‘You’ve already attempted to kill your sister–twice, actually. Once at the family home and later at the ICU in the hospital she was recovering in. If you cooperate and give us the name of your accomplice, or whoever has Gabbi right now–that is if she’s still alive–I can make things easier for you. If you cooperate, I can have a word with the magistrate, and we can try for a shorter sentence.’

My own situation was bad enough, but
somewhere
, someone had Gabbi. Someone who didn’t love her, or care for her safety. Someone who wanted to use her to get to me … or the rest of my family … what little was left of it. I couldn’t bear to think what Mum was going through. I had been so happy Mum had taken Gabbi out of the hospital and set her up in Rafe’s place, but she would have been safer if she’d stayed where she was. I clung onto the hope that the people who had Gabbi would figure it was in their
interests
to keep her alive.

‘Please,’ I begged, ‘I might be able to find out
where she is. I’ll cooperate–I’ll work with you. You can keep me cuffed, although I promise I won’t try to run away. My sister’s life is more important to me than anything else in the world.’

The sergeant swore at me, then leaped up and violently grabbed me, his hands gripped on either side of my throat.

‘Stop the bull, Ormond! You already know where she is,’ he said, shaking me, ‘because you took her! Dead or alive, you know full well where she is! You concoct this crazy story about
solicitors
and criminals being after you, chasing some fantastical nonsense. You’re just trying to muddy the waters. But I’ve dealt with smarter crims than you, pal! And I make sure they go where they belong!’

‘Get off me!’ I demanded. ‘Listen to me! My whole family has been in serious danger ever since my dad made a discovery about the Ormond Singularity when he was in Ireland. I’m the next in line–that’s why people are trying to take me out, that’s why I have to protect Gabbi. She’s been taken to put pressure on
me
. They want to use her. To have bargaining power. Don’t you understand? They want all the information I’ve gathered so they can use it together with all their money and power to solve the mystery!’

I was wasting my time. McGrath had a funny
half-smile on his face as if to say,
keep going,
I’m enjoying this nonsense
.

‘Why don’t you make it easier for yourself and just tell me what really happened? We’ll find out in the long run. Here’s the deal: you tell me now, plead guilty when we charge you, and you’ll get a reduced sentence. OK?’

‘I’ve already told you I had nothing to do with Gabbi’s disappearance. Rathbone contacted me on my blog and we arranged to meet at his brother’s place in Temperance Lane to exchange
information
. I had something he wanted, and he had something I wanted. He was acting as a go-between for Oriana de la Force. I went there at the time we agreed, and then someone attacked me, knocked me out, and I wound up six feet under.’

‘Sure, sure,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if I have it right. Two leading members of the city’s legal fraternity elect to meet up with a violent young offender in an undertakers’ business. Let’s not forget that the message you claim Mr Rathbone sent you has mysteriously vanished from your blog. And it was all a complicated set-up to kill you. You really expect me to swallow that?’

The way he put it, and the superior sneer on his face, made it sound pretty unbelievable.

There was a knock at the door. A policewoman entered the room and passed a sheet of paper to
the sergeant. He paused by the door to look at it.

‘You might be interested to hear this, Callum. Here is the sworn statement of Mr Enfield Rathbone, undertaker and brother of Sheldrake Rathbone, solicitor. Have a read of it.’

I looked up from the statement. Sergeant McGrath was eyeballing me. ‘So what do you have to say about that?’

‘Lies! All lies! I went there to meet
Sheldrake
Rathbone! I was waiting for him when someone knocked me out. All I know is that I woke up in a coffin, and before I could do anything about it, I was six feet under!’

‘You don’t deny you were in a coffin–’

‘I’ve never denied that. But I didn’t
voluntarily
get in there!’ I shuddered, recalling the claustrophobic terror. ‘Someone knocked me out and then drugged me or something. When I woke up I could hardly move, or say a word. It was all hazy. Test my blood! I promise you’ll find
something
sinister in my system!’

‘We’ve already had the toxicology results on your blood tests rushed through the lab. There is no evidence of any drug in your system to support your statement.’

‘Then they used something that disappears quickly! Everyone’s heard of drugs like that!’

McGrath took the statement back from me, folded it and slipped it into his briefcase. ‘This is your last chance to tell me where we can find Gabbi.’

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