The Mute and the Liar (9 page)

“
So
you're a
pparently
giving
me
the
silent
treatment.
”

My
hand curled
around my
neck,
the
way
it
always
does when
someone
tries to talk to me.
I barely
even
noticed
I was
doing
it.

“
Don’t
strangle
yourself;
it
isn’t
polite,
”
he
commanded,
pushing
his
face
close
to
mine.
“
Right
then.
Time
to
go.
”

And
that’s
when
everything
happened
in
the
space
it
takes
to
blink.
All
I
knew
was
that
suddenly
his
arms
were
around
me,
the
cactus
fell
and
the
pot
smashed
on
the
tiles
beneath
me,
and
the
next
thing
I
knew,
I
was
hanging
over
his
shoulder
like
a
sack
of
potatoes.

He
hauled
me
along,
and
within
a
few
seconds
we
were
nearly
at
the
front
door.
I
kept
writhing,
slamming
my
fists
into
his
back,
but
they
had
no
effect,
bouncing off his t-shirt like
they
were nothing
more than fleas. He just
carried
on
marching.
I
tried
kicking
my
legs,
but
he
was
holding
them
so
that
I
couldn’t
move
them
at
all.
I
was
completely
trapped.

And
the
fact
that
I
wasn’t
shouting
had
just
proven
something
to
him,
which had apparently been
on
his
mind.

“
I
knew
it.
You
don’t
talk,
do
you?
You
won’t
even
scream
for
help!
”
he
laughed
again;
a
chilling shriek that
cut
through
my flesh
like
a
pickaxe.

I
was
terrified.
I
was
being
kidnapped.
That
thought
echoed
through
my
mind,
but
I
didn’t
understand
it.
I
was
being
kidnapped.
I
was
being
kidnapped?
But
I’m
a
detective!
I
solve
crimes!
I
don’t
get
tangled
right
in
the
middle
of
them!

My
father
would
find
me.
He
would
know
straight
away.
He
would
come
and find me, and
this
psychopath would be
put
behind
bars.
But
it
would
be
hours
before
he came home.
Sometimes
he
doesn’t
come
home at
all.

What
if
he
couldn’t
understand
that
I’d
been
taken?
What
if
he
just
assumed
I
was
out?
What
if
he never
found me?

He probably
wouldn’t
even
realise
I
was
gone.

My
heart
was
pounding
so
fast
my
whole
chest
threatened
to
explode.
I
found
myself
struggling
to
breathe.
I
hit
him
again,
this
time
out
of
desperation.

I
had
to
get
away!

I
tried
to
touch
the
floor,
but
he
was
tall
and
hanging
me
in
a
way
that
meant
that
was
impossible.
As
we
passed
a
banister,
I
reached
out
and
managed
to
hook
my
fingers
around
it,
but
he
just
charged
forwards
and
my
sweaty hands
let
it
slip
away.

From
being
hung
upside
down,
all
the
blood
in
my
body
was
rushing
to
my
head,
and
soon
it
started
throbbing
in
time
with
my
furious
heartbeat.
All
the
energy
seemed
to
be
draining
away
from
me,
but
no
matter
how
much
I
struggled,
his
grip
only
got
tighter.
I
was
shivering.
My
stomach
felt
weightless.
I
was
going
to
throw
up.

This
was
surreal.
It
was
like
for
a
moment
I
was
apart
from
my
body,
watching
myself.
I
wasn’t
the
one
experiencing
this;
it
was
some
sort
of
nightmare
happening
to
a
stranger.

It
couldn’t
be me.

This
couldn’t
be
happening
to
me.

“
So,
at
this
point
in
all
the
spy
films,
the
villain
explains
his
evil
plan,
right?
Okay,
let
me
put
it
simply.
Your
father
is
an
ass.
Because
of
him,
my
best
friend
is
in
drug
rehab.
We
want
revenge.
I
was
supposed
to
just
steal your
TV,
but
you
ruined
that
plan,
so
now
I’m
stealing
the
next
best
thing.
You
are
my
hostage.
Don’t
even
think
about
escaping.
Remember...
”
He
stuffed
his
hand
into
the
pocket
of
his
jeans
and
pulled
out
my
house
keys.
He
rattled
them
in
the
air
next
to
me,
making
sure
I
could
see
them
but
couldn’t
reach
them.
“
I
know
where you live.
”

5:30pm

P
lease
help
me.
My
name
is
Alicia
Lewis.
I
have
been
kidnapped.
My
kidnapper
has
hair
a
mixture
of
blonde
and
light brown
, brown
eyes,
pale
skin
and
freckles,
a
slightly
long
nose,
and
is
thin
but
strong
and
around
5’10.
I
would
guess
he
is
probably
around
17
years
old.
He
broke
into
my
house
and
kidnapped
me
earlier
today
(28
th
February
)
.

My
address
is:
12
Romulus Terrace,
FQP
JLM,
Elmview
.

I
do
not
know
where
I
am
being
taken.
Please,
if
you
find
this,
send
help immediately.

*****

6:14
PM

Okay. This
is
going to be
fine. I’m going to be fine.

That
message
is
a
copy
of
one
I
left
on
the
seat
of
the bus
we
have
just
been
on.
I
don’t
think
it
will
help
though.
I
don’t
even
know
this
boy’s
name.
But
leaving
a
message
seemed
like
my
only
option.

We
have
just
got
off
the
bus.
I
read
every
road
sign
to
make
sure
I
knew
exactly
where
we
were
going.
Now
I
am
being
walked
somewhere
in
Canterbury.

I
was
trapped next
to
the
window,
with him
squashed next
to
me,
to
make
sure
I
couldn’t
get
out.
I
contemplated
writing
a
message in my notebook and
holding
it
up
so
people
in
neighbouring
cars
could
see,
but
they
would
never
believe
me.
He
grabbed
me
the
moment
the
bus
stopped
and
marched
me
to
the door
–
I
couldn’t
have
run
away
even
if
I
tried.

He
stepped
out
first,
and
held
out
his
hand
to
help
me
down.
I
did
not
take
it
and
tried
to
run
past,
but
he
grabbed
hold
of
me
before
I
could
move
and started dragging me
along
the street.

We
were
the
only
passengers
on
the
bus.
There
was
no
one
else
when
we
got
on.
As
we
were
boarding,
I
considered
asking
the
bus
driver
for
help,
until The
Ringleader bounded
cheerfully over
to
him,
calling
“
Hey,
Bobby!
”

At
least
I
have
this
notebook.
The
Ringleader
doesn’t
seem
to
mind
me
writing
in
here.
He
hasn’t
taken
it
away.
In
fact,
he’s
barely
said
anything
to
me.

Actually, he has
been
singing
more than
talking.
Yup.

Singing.

He just
sits
there,
belting
out
Thriller.

And
when
he’s
not
singing,
he’s
not
really
talking
to
me.
He
just
talks
at
me.

“
Because
I
love
Burger
King,
but
I
can’t
decide
whether
I
like
it
more
than
McDonald’s.
It’s
really
overrated;
you
know
what
I’m
saying?
And
then
they
have
a
salad
bar.
Why
would
you
go
to
McDonalds
to
have
a
salad?
It’s
like
going
to
a
sweet
shop
and
asking
for
an
apple.
Hungry?
”
and
then
he’s
hitting my
shoulder
with
the
bag of
lettuce.

Correction:
my
bag of
lettuce.
I
barely looked at
him.

“
Suit
yourself,
”
he muttered
indifferently, shoving
his
fist
in the bag.

You
would
think
that
if
he
was
eating,
it
would
mean
I
wouldn’t
have
to
listen
to
his
dire
monologue
anymore.
Well,
apparently
no
one
ever
told
him
not
to
talk with
his
mouth
full.

“
I’m
starving,
”
he
spat
through
mouthfuls
of
lettuce.
“
Do
you
want
to
hear
a
secret?
I
don’t
actually
like
salad.
”
(
Chomp,
chomp,
chomp.)
“
Green
things
just
make
me
want
to
vomit.
”
He
stuffed
his
hand
inside
the
bag
once
more
and
forced
another
fistful
into
his
mouth.
“
It’s
not
just
vegetables.
I
can’t
stand
grass,
either.
Or
Shrek.
Oh,
oh,
oh!
Do
you
know
what
I
really
hate?
Lizards.
They’re
so
shrivelled
and dry and
Lizardy.
”

And
then
he
rocketed
off
about
how
his
parents
had
bought
him
a
pet
lizard
once,
but
he
kept
torturing
it
by
filling
its
bowl
with
his
vegetables
when
his
parents
weren’t
looking,
so
the
lizard
ran
away
and
a
few
weeks
later
ended
up in
some
old
woman’s
hair.