Missing, Believed Crazy Read online

  Yes, the children had a secret that was more than just a kids’ game. I really didn’t want to get involved.

  Some hope.

  WIKI

  We went to see Godfather Gideon late that morning.

  ‘Gideon.’ Mark was our spokesman. ‘There’s something we need to tell you.’

  ‘Noooo.’ It was a long groan. Gideon ran his hands over the smooth wood of the rocking chair on the workbench in front of him. ‘Not now.’

  ‘But Gideon—’ said Mark.

  ‘Three months I’ve been working on this rocker based on a Shaker design. It’s made from black walnut. There’s nothing like this in the world.’

  ‘How much will it go for?’ asked Jade.

  ‘No idea,’ said Gideon. ‘The gallery sorts that out for me. The money is not important.’ He gazed, smiling, at the chair, a sparkle of pride in his eyes. ‘It’s the work that matters. So –’ He picked up a corner of sandpaper – ‘if you don’t mind, our chat can wait until tomorrow. I’m sure it’s very interesting but—’

  ‘I’m afraid we can’t do that.’ Trix stepped forward. ‘This is too urgent to wait.’

  GODFATHER GIDEON

  And so the nightmare began.

  At first as the children began to tell that story, I responded with the odd groan of despair. Charity. Africa. Decided to take action. Kidnap (GROAN). Escaped to Wales. Demon Taxi-Driver. (GROAN). Front-page headlines.

  But then, when they told me about the visitor in the 4x4 with blacked-out windows, I moved beyond groans. I buried my face in my hands. Why had I ever agreed to see these children?

  ‘Sorry, Gideon.’ My godson sounded unusually embarrassed. ‘It’s all got a bit out of hand, hasn’t it?’

  I sighed. ‘You could say.’

  WIKI

  He didn’t take it well. We were used to Gideon looking through us – the longer we stayed there, the less he seemed to see us. Now, though, it was as if the full horror of our presence had suddenly become clear to him.

  ‘We’ll go tomorrow,’ Trix was saying. ‘And this afternoon one of us will keep guard at the end of the drive. If this man Prendergast returns, the lookout will ring the house and we’ll disappear to the attic.’

  ‘As from tomorrow, it will be as if we’d never been here,’ said Mark. ‘If he turns up, you can say, “Trix? What Trix?”’

  Muttering miserably to himself, Gideon started sanding an arm of the rocking chair. We filed out in silence.

  ‘Well, that went really well, I must say,’ said Jade, always the first to come up with the unhelpful comment.

  JADE

  No way was I doing the lookout thing. Sorry, guys, I do not want to see the Grinning Psycho again, least of all on my own.

  So Wiki went first. Trix did the next two hours. It was during Mark’s watch that it all happened.

  MARK

  I had been sitting under a tree. It was late afternoon but the sun was still hot. I was feeling sleepy. I was gazing, totally bored, down into the valley when I saw something move. A big 4x4 was heading slowly up the hill in our direction.

  Our friend was back. I rang Jade’s phone.

  ‘He’s on his way. Get up to the attic, now.’

  Two minutes later, the vehicle, a Discovery, turned into the drive. It drove past me, accelerating up the hill, kicking up stones.

  THE SMILER

  This time I meant business. I had some rope for the kid, a baseball bat for security.

  As I drove up, the place was quiet but the old London taxi was there. I stepped out. The door was shut this time. I knocked.

  Nothing. Quietly I entered. There was no one in the house, downstairs or upstairs. It was when I was climbing the stairs that I heard a knocking sound.

  Downstairs. Outside. Round the back. Into the shed. I didn’t knock.

  An old hippy was tapping at the rocking chair I had seen before. He was in a world of his own. So much so that I had to clear my throat.

  He straightened up slowly and looked at me.

  GODFATHER GIDEON

  He was an ugly brute – short, thickset and with this strange smile on his face which I soon realized was not a smile at all, but some sort of old wound.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I asked.

  ‘Where’s Little Trixie?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you sure you have the right address?’

  ‘Where is she? The kid? I know you’ve got her. I don’t care what your game is. Just hand her over.’

  He walked slowly towards me with the rolling gait of a retired boxer.

  ‘I have never met a Little Trixie,’ I said calmly.

  He stood so close to me that I could smell the stale sweat on him.

  THE SMILER

  I don’t like people who take advantage of my good nature. I really don’t. It makes me want to persuade them to behave themselves.

  GODFATHER GIDEON

  The thug picked up a pair of pliers that were on the workbench. He tapped the black walnut rocker with it. ‘Nice piece of work that,’ he said in a low, husky voice.

  ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Just leave the chair alone. It’s quite . . . delicate.’

  ‘I bet it is.’ He put the pliers around one of the struts holding the back in place. I saw the muscles in his arm tense.

  ‘Where’s Trixie?’ he asked.

  I shook my head, unable to take my eyes away from where the pliers were turning harder and harder against the wood.

  ‘Good workmanship,’ said the thug. ‘Not easy to break.’

  There was a crack and I confess I gave a little gasp as if it were one of my own limbs that was being broken.

  ‘There we go,’ he said. ‘It’s like any work, the first bit’s the hardest. The rest is going to be easy.’

  He placed the pliers around another of the struts.

  ‘Where is she?’ he whispered.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Please don’t destroy the chair. It’s special – special to me.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re a very stupid man,’ he said, turning the pliers once more. ‘You’re going to tell me in the end but by then this lovely chair will be firewood. Here we go again.’

  He tightened his grip harder and harder. Suddenly there was a loud crack – only this time the noise came not from the chair but from the thug’s head.

  I looked into his eyes. They seemed to be fixed on something on the ceiling. Then they closed. Then his legs buckled and he fell to the floor.

  I looked beyond where he lay, through the open door, into the yard.

  Wiki stood there, his arms hanging by his sides. Dangling from his left hand was his catapult.

  JADE

  The five of us had been watching from the attic window. We could see little through the open doorway of the shed, but the voices reached us, first quiet, then threatening, rising. At one point, Gideon shouted, ‘No!’ and there was a loud crack of breaking wood.

  It was then that the world’s most unlikely boy hero went into action.

  ‘Wik, wait,’ Trix whispered, but Wiki was gone.

  We saw him walking quickly but quietly out of the house. Halfway to the shed, he stopped, picked up a stone, put it in his catapult, aimed – and let fly.

  Through the lit door of Gideon’s workshop, something moved, then was silent.

  Wiki walked slowly towards the shed.

  WIKI

  ‘He’s not dead.’ Gideon was crouching beside the man, his hand on his neck. ‘The pulse is fine.’

  He stood up slowly and reached out, like a man in a trance, for the rocking chair.

  For a moment, I looked at the man’s face. Knocked out cold, he no longer looked like he was smiling, but the scar was unmistakable. It was the man whose face was in the papers – Prendergast. A thin trickle of blood from his head was forming a puddle on the wooden floor.

  ‘Maybe we should tie him up or something,’ I said. ‘When he comes round, he’s not going to be too hap
py.’

  ‘Yes.’ Gideon reached inside a cupboard on the wall and took out some thick tape.

  Together we turned Prendergast and I began to tape his wrists together.

  Mark arrived, followed by Trix and Jade.

  ‘I said no violence,’ said Trix.

  ‘Where did you learn to shoot like that?’ asked Mark.

  ‘I want my mom,’ whispered Jade.

  I looked at Trix. ‘He was the one being violent,’ I said quietly. I nodded in the direction of Gideon, who had returned to his rocking chair to inspect the damage.

  ‘That’s a chair, a thing. He’s a –’ Trix looked down at the scarred man – ‘He’s a . . .’ She seemed to lose her drift for a moment.

  ‘Human?’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ I began taping the man’s feet together.

  ‘Your lock-up shed, Gideon,’ said Mark. ‘Maybe we should put him in there before he wakes up.’

  ‘Hm?’ Gideon looked slowly at his godson. ‘Oh, yeah, right. I’ll get the key.’ He walked towards the house.

  ‘He’s in shock,’ said Mark. ‘I’ve never seen him like this.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this nightmare now,’ said Jade, still staring at the body on the floor. ‘I’d like to wake up, please.’

  ‘She’s right,’ said Mark. ‘We should just call the police and turn ourselves in.’

  ‘And all this will have been for nothing,’ said Trix. ‘We can’t do that.’

  I thought hard. ‘We lock this guy in the shed. We get the hell out of here. Then Gideon can call the police. We’ll ask him to keep quiet about us.’

  ‘But where can we go?’ asked Mark.

  There was a moment’s silence.

  ‘I guess I could call my brothers,’ Jade said suddenly.

  ‘Your brothers?’ said Trix. ‘I thought –’ She hesitated – ‘Wasn’t there some kind of trouble there?’

  ‘Trouble? That word could have been invented for my brothers,’ said Jade quietly. ‘But we’re desperate, right?’

  ‘And how exactly are we going to get anywhere?’ asked Mark.

  I had thought of that. I crouched beside Prendergast and reached into a pocket of his tracksuit. I took out his keys and handed them to Mark.

  ‘Maybe we should drive,’ I said.

  GODFATHER GIDEON

  I wanted the children gone. I wanted everyone gone. I wanted my good and simple life back.

  With the two boys, I dragged the scarred man to the tractor shed. It was reasonably secure. We locked it and returned to the kitchen.

  ‘Gideon, we’re packing and going.’ My godson Mark spoke to me slowly as if I were some kind of moron. ‘When we’re on our way, go to the police. Tell them you’ve had an intruder. And – would it be possible? – don’t mention us.’

  JADE

  I never thought that I would actually be glad to hear the voice of my older brother Brad on the phone.

  ‘Brad,’ I said. ‘It’s Jade. I’m in trouble. I need your help.’

  ‘Shoot, babe.’ (This is the way Brad talks.)

  ‘I need you to meet me and some friends. Can we stay in the apartment?’

  ‘It’s kinda scuzzy right now, sis.’

  Now there was a surprise. ‘That’s not a problem. Brad, get in the car and start driving.’

  ‘Whoa, sis. And where exactly am I going?’

  ‘Wales,’ I said.

  ‘Wales?’

  HOLLY

  I felt alone that first evening back home.

  From the moment I had arrived back in London, there had been surprises. As I walked through the ticket barrier at the station, I had noticed that a gaggle of press photographers were snapping some celebrity nearby.

  Then I noticed the celebrity was my mum. She was standing beside a tall woman dressed in black, who I recognized as Trix’s mother Eva Johansson. Standing slightly aside from them was a small man with carefully combed hair.

  ‘Holly! Darling!’ My mother spotted me and, like some weird circus act, the posse of photographers wheeled around, faced me, and let off about a million flashes in my face.

  My mother hugged me, flash, flash.

  Trix’s mum (a complete stranger to me) kissed me on both cheeks, flash, flash. The miniature man with the hair extended a hand.

  ‘Holly de Vriess, the famous friend,’ he said. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. My name is Eddison Vogel.’

  I looked around, bewildered. ‘Why are all these photographers here?’

  The man smiled. ‘We’ll explain all that later. First you need to talk to the police. Then we’ve arranged a couple of little interviews with our favourite writers.’

  ‘Interviews? With me?’

  ‘“Tragic Trixie’s closest friend”, “The Trixie Bell I knew”, that sort of thing,’ said Eddison Vogel.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Just be yourself.’ Vogel gave a creepy smile. ‘And leave the rest to me.’

  Be myself. It was the one thing that was impossible. In my room that night, I wondered what the gang would be doing now up in the hills with Godfather Gideon.

  WIKI

  We needed to get out of there. The four of us threw our bags on to the back seat. We ran back to Gideon, who was still sitting in his kitchen.

  ‘Can you give us five minutes before you call the police, Gideon?’ Trix asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘Thanks, Gid.’ Jade kissed him on the cheek. He looked surprised. Wincing, Trix did the same. Mark patted him awkwardly on the back of his shoulders. ‘You’re a great godfather,’ he said.

  I held out my hand. ‘Thank you, Gideon,’ I said quietly.

  He looked at me and, to my surprise, he smiled. ‘You look after yourself, Wiki. Come and see me again when your stunt is over, right?’

  I nodded.

  We returned to the Discovery. ‘Mark, are you sure you know how to drive this?’ asked Jade.

  ‘Watch me,’ said Mark. He climbed into the driver’s seat, put the key in and started the engine.

  THE SMILER

  Hm? Hmmm? HMMM! I awoke in darkness. There was a smell of oil and diesel. My head throbbed. It felt as if someone was in there, hammering against my brain to get out. My hands were taped. I tugged and pulled until I got them free. I reached out in the darkness and touched what seemed to be a tractor wheel.

  Wha-wha-what was going on?

  POLICE CONSTABLE GAVIN OWEN

  Yes, we did receive a call that night and it was from Mr Burrowes. We know Mr Burrowes down at the station. In the past he has called us about the government spying on him through his TV set. On another occasion he thought a helicopter flying over the mountains was the government taking photographs of him. He is an eccentric gentleman, shall we say?

  We told him we would call by the next day to see that he was all right. That’s what a lot of policing is these days – reassuring vulnerable members of the community that everything is going to be all right.

  THE SMILER

  I felt around the walls. There was no way out. I pushed against the door. It wouldn’t give. I groped my way along the tractor to the ignition. The key was in it.

  GODFATHER GIDEON

  I heard the Massey’s engine start up.

  Lock the workshop, I thought. I was sprinting across the courtyard when the tractor smashed through the door of its shed like a fist through a paper bag.

  I hid behind the shed.

  The man sat in the tractor seat, gazing at where his car had been.

  ‘Where’s my car?’ he yelled. ‘Where’s my motor?’

  He jumped down from the tractor, ran into the house. I heard the smashing of dishes as he looked for me. He came out and opened the door to the taxi. The key was in my pocket.

  He looked around wildly. ‘I’ll be back,’ he yelled. ‘I promise you that!’

  Then he jumped back on to the tractor, crashed the gears into place and set off down the hill.

  A broken chair, smashed crockery and now a stole
n tractor. It was a bad, bad evening.

  WIKI

  Mark could drive. I have to admit it. It was as if he had been on the roads for years.

  We decided to follow the signs to Newport, the nearest big town, and then head towards London. All that mattered was distance between us and Prendergast.

  It was getting dark.

  At some point I asked if we were all sure that we had cleared the rooms at Hill Farm of our possessions.

  It was then that Trix said, ‘I couldn’t find my T-shirt. Did anyone see it?’

  We drove east. Mark took it slow, but not so slow as to be suspicious. Every five minutes or so, Jade rang her brother Brad to tell him where we had reached.

  ‘Maybe you should give the guy a rest from calls,’ Mark said at one stage.

  ‘Got to keep ringing,’ said Jade. ‘Else Brad will forget where he’s meant to be driving. His short-term memory is totally shot.’

  ‘Oh great,’ murmured Mark.

  Sitting behind in the back seat, Trix and I exchanged glances.

  We had been driving for about an hour when Mark noticed that the diesel tank was only a quarter full. Pulling into a service station was too risky so we agreed to drive to an isolated spot and meet Brad there.