The Disappearance of Katie Wren (14 page)

“The police won't do a thing. They can't. Knott's Court is too powerful.”

She takes a phone from her pocket.

“Can't they track you with that thing?” I ask.

“This is a burner. It's not linked to me in any way, although that won't be the case forever. It should be good for twenty-four hours, though. The only people I've given the number to are Bob, Tim and a few other trusted sources.”

She starts tapping at the screen.

“I need to check something with Bob,” she continues. “It might not be so safe for us to go and observe the second autopsy after all. Maybe I should just get him to tell me the results over the phone. Then again, they might -”

Before she can finish, the phone starts ringing, which seems to startle her for a moment.

“Who is it?” I ask.

She stares at the screen, before swiping to answer.

“What do you want?” she says, clearly annoyed. “I told you to only call me on this number if -”

She stops suddenly.

“What?”

I can hear a voice on the other end of the line, but I'm unable to make out any of the words.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she stammers. “No, don't do that. You have to get her out of there right now. I'll text you details of where to meet us, and you have to go straight there. Don't ask any questions, but for God's sake don't let her out of your sight. Just do it, okay?”

She cuts the call and starts writing a message.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A trap,” she replies. “Either that, or the luckiest break two idiots like us ever got in their lives. Either way, we can't ignore it.”

“But -”

“Wait a moment!” she hisses. “I need to think! This really might be a trap, but it might also be a chance.”

“
What
might be?” I ask. “Will you please tell me what's going on?”

“Something might just have dropped into our lap,” she replies, her eyes wide with shock. “But... I don't think you're gonna like it...”

Chapter Twenty

The Break

“She showed up about an hour ago,” Tim says as we follow him across the crowded pub. “I really don't see why I had to bring her
here
, though. We could have just waited in my flat and -”

“We need to be in public,” Annabelle replies, marching ahead of us both and forcing her way past the people at the bar. “Crowds are our safety net right now. Crowds keep us safe.”

“This all seems rather strange to me,” he continues, glancing at me as if he expects me to explain the entire situation to him. “I'm have to admit, I was looking forward to a relaxing morning with the crosswords and the sudoku. I had a pot of tea brewed and everything, and then all of a sudden there was a knock at the door. Naturally I assumed it was someone looking to rent one of my flats, but then I found...”

He hesitates for a moment.

“Then I found
her
on the step,” he adds, “and I honestly wasn't sure what to do.”

Before I can reply, I spot a familiar face up ahead. A shiver runs through my chest as I see that Agnes Bresson is sitting in a booth in the pub's far corner, and I feel not one iota of sympathy for her despite the tears in her eyes or the bruises on her cheek. She looks like an utter mess, but none of that matters to me right now. As I reach the booth and look down at her, all that matters is that she tells me everything she knows. And then I can find Katie, while Agnes and her disgusting boyfriend rot in jail.

“Spill,” Annabelle says firmly, sitting opposite her. “Start by telling us why you're here.”

“Are we safe?” Agnes stammers, her French accent sounding thicker than ever. “Please, you have to -”

“I am
very
skeptical right now,” Annabelle continues, interrupting her. “As far as I'm concerned, there's a very high chance that you've been sent here to trip us up.”

“No, I swear...” Agnes turns to me. “After you left this morning, I was pulled aside. They realized that you recognized me, and they wanted to know why. They asked me questions for over an hour, and even when they told me I could go, I knew they still had suspicions.”

She turns back to Annabelle.

“You have to help me.”

“What happened to your face?” Annabelle asks.

Agnes reaches up and touches her cheek, although she immediately flinches. Whatever else might be going on here, the cut in her flesh is clearly real, and the bruise runs all the way up to her eye.

“I knew I had to get out of there,” she stammers. “I was so scared, I tripped while I was running out through the back gate. I fell down the stairs.”

“Forgive me if I don't necessarily believe you,” Annabelle says darkly.

“Where's Katie?” I ask, stepping closer. “I don't care about any of the rest of it. I just need you to tell me where I can find my daughter!”

Agnes shakes her head. “I don't know, I just -”

“Liar!” I hiss.

“Steady on,” Tim says, placing a hand on my arm. “Let the girl speak, won't you?”

“She knows about Katie,” I continue, keeping my eyes fixed on Agnes. “She was there with her, in her apartment, with that horrible Spanish man. The police let them go, but I know that was a mistake. She knows exactly where I can find my daughter.”

“I went to Fernando's apartment first,” Agnes replies, her voice trembling with fear. “I thought he could help me, but... His door was open. It looked like the place had been robbed, and Fernando was on the floor.” She pauses. “His head was covered in blood, on the back. Someone had hit him. I tried to wake him up, to help him, but there was just too much blood. Part of his skull was on the floor. I've never seen anything so horrible.”

“So then you came to find us?” Annabelle asks.

“I didn't know where else to go.” She turns to me. “If I give you help, if I tell you where you might find Katie, will you buy me a ticket back to France? And give me money?”

“I'm not paying you a penny!” I hiss.

“We'll make sure you're taken care of,” Annabelle tells her, “but we need the information upfront. We can look after you, but only if you prove to us that it's worth our while.”

“They're going to kill me,” Agnes whimpers, with tears streaming down her face as she stares at her hands. “They're going to -”

“Hey!”

Annabelle gently taps the side of her face.

“Look at me, Agnes,” she says firmly.

Agnes shakes her head, and now her bottom lip is trembling.

“You need to look at me,” Annabelle continues. “Come on, I'm not
that
ugly. You can look at me, can't you? And focus?”

“Please,” Agnes sobs, “just -”

“Look at me!” With no further warning, Annabelle slaps her hard and then grabs her by the chin, forcing her head up. “Look at me when I'm trying to save your life!” she continues. “Right now, you have no friends in the whole goddamn world, do you understand? No-one gives a damn about you, apart from the people who're after you. You're right, they
are
going to kill you, unless you do exactly what I say. This isn't negotiable, and I'm more than willing to let you go out there and take your chances with the wolves of Knott's Court. Do you understand?”

“But -”

“Do you understand?”

Agnes stares at her for a moment, clearly too shocked to process what she's hearing.

“Okay,” she stammers finally, “but just promise you'll get me out of here!”

“I promise,” Annabelle replies, letting go of her chin and starting to lean back.

Agnes lowers her head again.

“No,” Annabelle adds, reaching out and tilting her head back up. “It's rude not to at least make eye contact now and then, okay?”

Agnes pauses, before nodding.

“Where's my daughter?” I ask, feeling as if I've already seen enough of this pantomime.

“It was all Fernando's idea,” Agnes replies breathlessly, sniffing back more tears. “He was the one who got me involved. He said they'd pay well, and that I just had to make sure I didn't ask questions. He said it'd be a good job for me, working as a maid, and that I'd only have to work in the upper levels, around the entrance hall and the kitchen. But then after a while, Fernando started to get angry all the time. He told me we had to find someone for the house, someone who could be taken there and...”

Her voice trails off.

“And what?” I ask. My heart is pounding, and I'm still not sure I believe this dirty little tramp.

“That's as far as he told me,” she continues. “He said he had specific instructions about who we were after, and where to find her. We persuaded Katie to come with us one night, to the bar at Knott's Court. Just the bar, you understand? That was the night we saw you on the laptop, remember?”

“Then what happened?”

“We had fun,” she replies, forcing a sad, pathetic smile. “We danced, we drank, we met some guys. Katie didn't do anything, not with the guys. We got drunk but not so much that we lost control, you understand? But Fernando said it was important, he said there were people who'd be watching, people who were very interested in Katie. The next day, he told me they liked Katie very much, and that we didn't have to do anything more. I spoke to her later and she sounded sick, she said she thought she had flu. So I left her alone, until...”

Suddenly she closes her eyes, and I can see a shudder pass through her body.

“Until what?” I ask.

I wait, but she seems lost in thought.

“Answer the nice lady,” Annabelle says firmly, “or we'll feed you to the wolves.”

“Wolves?” Tim asks. “What wolves?”

“It's a metaphor,” Annabelle replies, keeping her eyes fixed on Agnes. “She knows what I mean.”

“I saw her one more time,” Agnes continues, opening her tear-filled eyes and looking up at me. “That was when she was being taken into the house. She entered through the back, and I just happened to be going down the stairs at the time, into the pantry next to the kitchen. We looked at each other, but I don't think she recognized me. She looked dazed and confused, her eyes were like glass. She was shuffling like a zombie. I went to Fernando that night and asked him what was happening, but he told me not to interfere. He told me I had to shut up and keep what I'd seen to myself. I was scared, and I needed the job, so that's what I did.”

“If you're lying,” I whisper, shaking with rage, “I swear -”

“I'm not lying,” she stammers quickly. “I promise, every word is the truth.”

“Katie thought you were her friend,” I reply, struggling to keep from wrapping my hands around the miserable wretch's throat. “She was all alone in the city, and she thought she'd found someone she could trust!”

“I know,” Agnes sobs, shuddering as she lowers her face. “I know, I'm so sorry.”

“Is she dead?” I ask.

I wait, but she seems to be sinking deeper and deeper into a weeping fit.

“Is she dead?” I ask again, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder. I hate the words that are leaving my mouth right now, but I have to know. “Tell me!”

“No!” she stammers, shaking her head. “At least, she wasn't when I saw her. I don't know what really goes on at the back of the house, but I know Katie seemed important. I don't think they'd go to all that trouble, just to kill her.”

“We'll go to the police,” I stammer. “They'll have to believe us now.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Annabelle mutters.

“You'll tell the police everything you told us,” I continue, watching as Agnes wipes her eyes. “They might have been dragging their heels until now, but this time they'll have to get a search warrant and tear that place apart, and then they'll find Katie and she'll be alive and -”

“Shut up!” Annabelle hisses suddenly, turning to me. “Haven't you learned anything since I let you tag along with me? There is a much,
much
better way to deal with this, but first we need a lot more information, and there's only one way we're ever going to get that.”

I turn to Agnes. “You have to tell us everything. You have to -”

“Not
that
!” Annabelle says with a sigh, as if my idea is the stupidest she's ever heard in all her life. “We're sitting on a goddamn golden opportunity here, and we have to take advantage. I've been waiting for this since forever!”

“Waiting for what?” I ask.

“Think about it, dumb-ass!” She stares at me for a moment. “What's wrong with you? Look at this stupid kid! She works at Knott's Court and she's begging us to help us! We can use that!”

“I'm not sure I see where you're going with this.”

She turns to Agnes. “You're going back there.”

“No,” Agnes replies, shaking her head. “Never. You have to get me out of this country. Back to France.”

“Not until you've been back there one more time. Sorry, girl, but you've been very dumb up until today, and now you're gonna have to make up for it by being very smart and very brave.”

“What do you want from me?” Agnes sobs. “I've told you everything I know!”

“You need to be smart, which means accepting the deal I'm putting on the table for you,” Annabelle continues, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small, dark, circular object. “Winnie here can tell you that my deals are usually pretty peachy. And then you need to be brave, 'cause you're gonna take this microphone and you're gonna walk right back into Knott's Court. Only this time, we'll be right there with you, listening via this thing. And I promise, if you do exactly what I say, you'll be coming outta there just fine and we can ship you off home. Do we have a deal or not?”

Agnes stares at the microphone as Annabelle sets it on the table.

“The clock's ticking,” Annabelle adds. “You don't have time to dawdle, and neither do we. What's it gonna be, Agnes? Are you gonna go out and face the wolves alone, or are you gonna put your faith in your new best buddy Annabelle?”

“It's not that easy,” Agnes replies, before muttering something under her breath in French. “There's something at that house. Something awful. Something dark. Something -”

“Spare us the occult garbage,” Annabelle says firmly. “We're all adults here. Nobody believes in the bogeyman. The danger at Knott's Court is 100% human. Now answer the goddamn question. Are you gonna help us get Katie out of Knott's Court?”