Hunted (18 page)

‘Come on, we need to go.’ Nico was already out of the car.

Jeez
, and he says I’m rude.

I reached forward and patted Laura on the shoulder. ‘Harry will stay with you,’ I said. ‘And we’ve got our new phones on silent. Call if you see anything suspicious. That’ll be the best help you can give us.’

‘And don’t worry,’ Ed added, reaching for the door handle. ‘We’ll be fine. We’ve done this before.’

Laura nodded reluctantly. Harry opened his mouth, presumably to protest about being left behind. I leaned forward before he had a chance and whispered in his ear.

‘I’d feel so much better if you were looking after your mom,’ I said. ‘Please?’

He sighed. ‘Okay.’ He sat back.

As we walked silently to the house, the usual confusion of thoughts rushed through my head. It’s always the same just before any mission – anxiety and excitement and going over the plan. But this mission mattered more. I could barely contain the volts of adrenaline shooting through me.

I
had to
find out what Bookman knew.

Suddenly Ed was in my head.

What do you want to do with Bookman if, er . . . if you find out, er . . . he did murder your parents?

Kill him.
The thought leaped into my head before I could stop it. I could feel Ed’s shocked reaction.

Dylan, you can’t . . .

Chill
, I thought-spoke.
I won’t actually do it.

Okay.
Ed sounded uncertain. He broke our connection immediately. I was sure he was communicating what I’d told him to the others.

Great. Now they’d all think I was some kind of psycho.

As we crossed the drive, keeping close to the trees at the side, I tried to shake off all the other thoughts and focus purely on my force field.

Ed was in my head again.

Ketty says Bookman’s in there alone, but her vision’s a bit hazy . . . she’s just getting a glimpse of his face.

Great.

It’s not her fault. She can’t be sure of what she’s seeing . . .

Sounds a bit weird. Could be a trick or a trap.

That’s what Nico said. He says we should lay a false trail . . . send someone in separately so we come at the house from two directions.

Sure . . . I should go in alone. I can protect myself better than anyone else.

That’s what Nico said.

Well, isn’t Nico full of great ideas?

Ed broke the connection.

We reached the end of the line of trees. From here to the house was a five-metre dash where we would be totally exposed. I strained my eyes, trying to make out any sights or sounds.

Not even a security camera. The only sign of life inside the house was that lit-up room.

I touched Nico lightly on the shoulder. ‘You take the front door,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll go in through the window.’

He nodded, then set off with Ketty and Ed. I followed close behind. The others reached the front door. They stopped, crouching in the shadows.

I raced on, my rubber soles making no sound on the tarmac drive.

I reached the room with the light on. The drapes were tightly drawn.

I glanced round at Nico. He held up three fingers.

Three.
He lowered one finger. I braced myself.

Two.
This was it. No second chances.

One.

I raised my fist and punched through the window.
Smash.
In an instant I was hauling myself up, hands clutching the sides of the glass. My energy field protected me from the jagged shards as I raised myself up on the sill, threw back the drape and jumped into the living room.

It was long and narrow . . . old-style, with two smart, stiff couches and an armchair at the far end of the room, turned to face a real fire burning low at the grate. I looked around. Scratched floorboards covered with rugs. A sideboard . . . china ornaments . . . a couple of photographs.

Empty.

In the near distance I could hear the groan of the front door opening. A second later Nico, Ed and Ketty were inside the room.

For a second we all stood, silent, straining again to listen for sound.

Nothing.

‘There’s no one here.’ I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I’d been all primed to attack . . . at the very least to defend myself from danger . . .

I glanced at the photos on the sideboard again. One was a family group, the other a line of businessmen sitting in chairs. A more formal picture. I went over.

One man appeared in both photos. Middle-aged, greying – the same guy from the MoD file that Harry had hacked into.

‘Are we in the right place?’ Nico whispered.

‘We must be.’ I handed him the photo. ‘This is Bookman.’

‘I don’t get it.’ Ketty said quietly. ‘I got a definite look at his face and I’m sure it was in this room. I saw the curtains.’ She pointed to the dark red drapes, which hung along most of one wall.

I followed her gaze, then looked carefully around. The only part of the room not totally visible from here was the seat of the armchair facing the fireplace at the far end. I glanced at the floor beside the chair. The rug was bunched up, as if it had been pushed back in a hurry . . . the floor underneath was covered in scuff marks.

‘Looks like somebody turned the chair round,’ Ed whispered, his voice full of confusion. ‘Can you see anything, Ketty?’

‘No, I’m too stressed now,’ Ketty grumbled.

I rolled my eyes.

‘We should search the rest of the house.’ Nico took a step towards the door.

‘Wait.’ I walked over to the armchair. ‘We should check this out first.’

‘I think if anyone was sitting in that chair, they’d have heard us by now,’ Nico said impatiently.

‘Just let me look.’ Force field primed, so I couldn’t feel the sweat that I knew was dripping down the back of my neck, I took another step closer.

Ash from the fireplace was scattered across the floor . . . a poker lay on the floor.

I stopped. A shoe was peeking out past the leg of the chair.

My heart beat fast. Someone was sitting in the chair.

I edged closer, holding my hand up to quiet – and warn – the others.

Bookman was in the chair, staring into the fireplace.

Is it him?
Ed thought-spoke.

Yes.

It was definitely Bookman, albeit with whiter hair and more lines on his face.

I wasn’t making much noise, but surely he should have sensed me moving into his sight line by now.

What the hell was going on?

Behind me I sensed Ketty stiffen. Was she seeing something in the future?

I took another tiny step closer. Bookman didn’t even flicker, just kept staring into the fire.

‘Hello?’ My voice was low and hoarse.

No response.

Heart totally in my mouth, I reached forward and touched Bookman’s shoulder. He fell forwards, slumping over the arm of the chair.

I jumped, barely stifling a scream. Behind me the others gasped.

I stared at the red stain on the back of the chair, then at the blood on the back of Bookman’s head.

I reached forwards and touched his wrist. The skin was still warm, but the heat was fading. And there was no pulse.

‘Oh my God,’ Ketty whispered.

I turned to the others. Their faces were pale with shock in the dim lamplight.

‘Well, we’ve found him,’ I said, trying not to sound as shaken as I felt. ‘But someone else appears to have found him first.’

‘Is he . . .?’ Nico started.

‘Dead,’ I said. ‘Totally dead.’

20: The clue

We stared at Bookman’s body, still slumped in the armchair.

I’d only seen a dead person once before . . . that was on our last mission, when Carson, the guy who’d imprisoned us, shot Ed’s Spanish girl, Luz. Ed, who had been right next to her, had naturally totally freaked. But Ketty and I had been in the room, too, witnessing everything. It was one of the most horrible moments of my life.

I looked at Ed now, wondering if he was thinking of Luz, but he was frowning, staring at the floor at Bookman’s feet. I followed his gaze. A number had been roughly outlined in the ash from the fireplace.

343

‘What’s that?’ I pointed.

Ed glanced up. ‘Bookman must have written it with his shoe.’

And then a door slammed somewhere else in the house.

I jumped. So did the others.

‘What was that?’ Ketty hissed.

Nico raced to the door.

‘I bet that’s the person who killed Bookman,’ I whispered.

I glanced back at the dead body and forced myself to touch Bookman’s arm again. As I’d thought before, the skin was warm. He hadn’t been dead long.

‘Come on.’ Nico beckoned me towards him. ‘Just you and me.’

‘But if I’m not with you both, I won’t be able to see what’s going to happen to you,’ Ketty protested.

‘I don’t care,’ Nico said. ‘Stay with Ed. If anything happens, he can reach us telepathically.’

Ketty was clearly going to argue, but Nico had already set off along the corridor. I followed him, careful to make no sound as I ran. We reached the hallway. The front door was to our left. Stairs leading up to a carpeted first-floor landing were on our right.

The sound of footsteps echoed over our heads.

Nico put his finger to his lips, then pointed up the stairs.

I nodded to show I understood, then followed him up, my force field fully primed.

We reached the first floor without hearing or seeing anyone. We stood silently for a moment. Then a loud crash sounded from the left.

We crept towards the place the sound had come from. My heart pounded as we passed door after door. Each one was open wide as if it had just been flung back on its hinges by someone in a desperate hurry.

My mind ran over the possibilities. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Bookman had been murdered just before I reached him. Someone clearly wanted to get to him before I did.

But why? There could only be one reason. They must be after the Medusa code and think, for some reason, that I believed it was here.

I went through my list of suspects. Who knew about the existence of the code? Milton and McKenna – but it couldn’t be them because they were in custody. Geri – but Geri already knew the code was with me. She’d have no reason to kill Bookman anyway. Same with Jack.

Which meant there must be someone else I didn’t even know about, prepared to kill to get their hands on the code – or, at least, stop me from getting it.

A shiver rushed down my spine. Running footsteps outside caught my ear.

I raced into the nearest room and looked out the window. I was just in time to see a shadowy figure darting into the trees outside.

The person was dressed in dark, shapeless clothes – I couldn’t make out any details, not even if it was a man or a woman.

A second later a car engine revved.

I turned to Nico. ‘Should we go after them?’

He shook his head. ‘The car’ll be out of sight by the time we get outside.’

I gazed round the room. I’d raced to the window so fast I hadn’t even noticed what a mess it was in . . . armchair overturned . . . clothes and duvet on the floor . . . ornaments and lamps strewn everywhere . . .

‘Looks like whoever killed Bookman was looking for something,’ Nico said.

‘Yeah, that makes sense.’ I explained my theory that the intruder was searching for the Medusa code, now certain it was right.

‘Why would anyone think the code was in here, though?’ Nico said. ‘This is just a spare room.’

I had to agree it was strange. And it didn’t explain the number –
343 –
that Bookman had traced in the ash on the floor downstairs.

A moment later Ed and Ketty appeared.

‘I just spoke to Harry and Laura,’ Ed said. ‘They’re fine. They heard a car screeching off, but didn’t, er, see the guy who ran out.’

‘Why didn’t they follow him?’ Nico said.

‘Harry wanted to, but Laura insisted they should stay and wait while we check everything out.’ Ed paused. ‘I didn’t tell her about Bookman . . . when she hears, she’ll want us to leave straight away.’

‘Good call,’ Nico said approvingly.

The four of us wandered round the room for a bit, hoping to find some clues to the identity of the mysterious intruder.

After a minute’s searching, Ketty unearthed an open safe door, partially hidden by the duvet that had been torn off the bed.

The safe was empty.

‘Maybe the murderer thought the code would be in there,’ Ed suggested.

‘Or maybe he was just an ordinary burglar who got disturbed by Bookman, killed him, then came up here to steal from the safe?’ Nico said.

‘So Bookman gets murdered just before we arrive,’ I said. ‘It’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?’

Nico shrugged.

‘I don’t like thinking about that dead body downstairs,’ Ketty muttered.

‘Me neither,’ Ed added. ‘We should call the police . . . or at least Geri.’

‘I’ll call her.’ Ketty went out into the corridor to make the call.

Nico and Ed followed. I took a last look around the spare room. That armchair falling over must have been the crash we heard. It was a heavy piece of furniture and couldn’t have fallen on its side by accident. Which meant the intruder had deliberately pushed it over. But why? The safe was on the other side of the room. You didn’t need to go anywhere near the armchair to reach the safe from the door. And the noise the armchair made had nearly given away the intruder’s position to us.