The bus stopped and started, matching the sluggish speed of the city-centre traffic for the first twenty minutes. But, after they left the centre, it picked up its pace and moved smoothly past the giant park on the outskirts of the city.
Danny sat on the bus, frowning. Now Charlotte had gone home, he was alone and had time to think.
He wasn’t sure what had gone on that morning with Paul Wire. Had he really followed Danny and Charlotte? A former City player? One whose name Danny used to chant at matches with his dad.
Why had he been in the Ladies in that pub?
Was he really involved with drugs?
And the biggest question: was Wire involved in these burglaries like Anton thought? Or was he nothing to do with it?
And if he wasn’t, Danny had no leads at all.
Danny looked around him. There were several younger people on the bus. On their way back from college, Danny supposed. Some were carrying files. Some were talking about being in the common room. They were seventeen or eighteen. About Emily’s age.
The bus had to wait a few minutes to break out across the ring road. Then it accelerated out into the countryside.
Towards Alex Finn’s house.
Where Danny had a little more investigating to do.
After he got off the bus, Danny waited on the far side of the road to Alex Finn’s house. He was next to a country pub with benches, so he made sure he looked like he was with some of the drinkers sitting out enjoying the early-evening sun. He could easily be one of their children. And anyway, the TV crews hanging around, reporting on the attempted burglary, seemed to take up everyone’s attention.
From here Danny could see a lot.
The driveway of Finn’s house was cordoned off. A pair of officers were sifting through the gravel, centimetre by centimetre. A fingerprints person was dusting the doorway. Another was upstairs, visible through the window.
Finn’s place was really nice. It looked like a farmhouse with an attached barn. There was a pair of fancy gates just off the road. Black-painted metal. And either side of the house, along a driveway, there were medium-sized trees.
As he watched the mêlée, Danny saw one of the people from the press pack leave the group and slip down the side of the house.
Danny could see it was a man with dark hair. But that was all.
What was he up to?
Danny had wanted to spend the whole time just watching the house, seeing what he could pick up. Following one individual meant he might miss things. But this was too tempting. Something unusual was about to happen. He was sure of it.
Danny moved from the pub and crossed the road. He needed to get closer. And no one was watching him. He was just a boy. Just a fan. That’s what he would say if he was challenged.
The man with dark hair appeared to be moving down the side of the house. Slowly. Like Danny imagined a burglar would. In dark clothes too, so he wouldn’t stand out, or catch anybody’s eye.
Danny found a public footpath on the house side of the road and made his way down it, sweeping overhanging branches out of the way. This would get him close to the house. To see what this character was doing. To see if he could pick up any clues at all as to who had broken into Alex Finn’s home.
Danny squatted and peered through the bushes.
And there he was. Going through the bins at the side of the house.
Danny was spellbound. The man was taking rubbish out of a wheelie bin he had turned on its side. Lifting pieces of paper out of lumps of food and fruit skins. Putting them in another bin bag.
Danny wondered first if he was a policeman, gathering evidence. But if he was he would be wearing some sort of uniform or overalls, like the others.
Danny decided to watch, regardless. This was not normal behaviour. So it had to mean something. It might have nothing to do with the burglaries, but he might learn something anyway.
It was possible it did have something to do with the burglaries. Perhaps this was the burglar coming back, having hidden something, money perhaps, in the bins. Perhaps he was using the attention of the media on the front of the house to do what he needed to do.
The man went through everything in the bin, his back to Danny. If it was paper it went into his fresh bin bag. Otherwise it went back into the bin.
Danny kept on watching until the man stopped, sealed the bin bag, righted the wheelie bin and turned round.
Now Danny could see his face.
And that was what shocked him the most. The man’s face.
It was Anton Holt.