They walked in silence, past the town proper, and down some side streets until they arrived at Ted’s car. The BMW beamed, appearing shinier and fancier in the daylight. Brian went to say as much, to break the quiet and ease the tension, but Ted got there first.
“You stupid bastard!” he screamed so loudly Brian’s shoulders involuntarily quaked back in surprise. “What did I tell you?”
“About what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, kid. Not after the morning I’ve had. If you knew half the things I know, you would not be fucking around like this.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And it’s better that way. Trust me, I fucking know. Now get in the car.”
Brian looked in the car, then back to Ted. “I’m not getting in the—”
“Yes, you are. And don’t expect me to be as patient as I was last night. You get in the car in ten seconds or you’re riding in the boot again. Now which is it?”
“Wait.” Brian held up his hands in surrender. “I’m listening, I’m cooperating, I’ll do what you say.”
Ted nodded. “About the smartest thing I’ve heard you say since we met. Now get in.”
“My car’s just a few streets away. Parked in the pay and display, a couple of minutes from here.”
“That’s a nice story. Now …” Ted gestured to the BMW.
“Please,” Brian said. “I’ve got less than an hour on the car parking and I don’t want to get another fine.”
“Oh my god,” Ted said, this time more exasperated than angry. “Why are you so pathetic?”
“I don’t think it’s unreasonable to not want to pay a fine for—”
“Here’s the deal, I’ll drop you at your car, and you’ll follow me to the letter. I want you driving at the same pace and taking the same turns. No funny business. You got it?”
“Where exactly are we—”
“Brian, you’re a few words away from laying on your back. You hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear you.”
“Good. Now if you deviate, if you stop off for petrol, if you so much as let a single vehicle get between your car and mine, there will be severe consequences.” Ted cleared his throat. “I’ll beat you so badly you won’t be able to lie down properly for the next month. Are we crystal?”
Private investigators sure handled things more directly than the regular police. Or at least differently than how Brian imagined they went about things, seeing as he’d had limited interactions with the law.
They got in the car. Metallica kicked in, a track from one of their earlier albums that Brian couldn’t place. The car engine thundered up, and they raced down the street, towards the roundabout and A-road out of town.
“The car park’s back—”
“I know where the car park is, son.”
Brian swallowed. He didn’t want to argue with the PI, especially given his current temperament, but Brian was fairly sure they’d driven further than even the most circuitous of long way rounds. By the time they got to the B-roads, surrounded by tall trees that made mid-morning look closer to early evening, Brian had clued into what was going on.
“We’re not going to the car park, are we?”
The PI sniggered, which was the nearest he’d come to a smile all day.
It was at that point Brian figured out the name of the Metallica track, ‘Escape’—too cruel given the circumstances.
“I can’t believe you tricked me,” Brian said.
“And I can’t believe you were dumb enough to carry out your own investigation … in broad daylight … on a public computer. Bloody hell. I’m beginning to think your stupidity knows no bounds.”
“I thought I was being smart.”
“Yeah? I can’t wait to hear the flawed logic on this one.”
“It just didn’t seem wise to use my own computer, is all.”
“You shouldn’t have been looking into this in the first place. What did I tell you?”
Brian shrugged. “It’s not a crime to look into things. To do a little research. Isn’t that your job?”
“Yes, son, that’s my job. It isn’t a crime to wire a house for electricity either but if something goes wrong, you’re gonna get hurt.”
Brian didn’t know much about any of that, though his gut told him the analogy was tenuous.
“I told you not to go digging around,” Ted said softly. “To leave things to me. Trust me, this is a situation where ignorance very much is bliss. Things might be too late for me, but they’re not for you … at least, they weren’t.”
Brian stewed for a moment, then sighed. “I just wish you’d be more direct with me, to let me in on things.”
“I’m telling you as much as I can. Probably a little more. Believe it or not, I’m doing this for your own good.”
“Sounds like the kind of thing a parent would tell a kid when they don’t have a real reason for some arbitrary rule they magicked up.”
“Do you have a kid?” Ted’s spit spattered the steering wheel. “No, you don’t. You don’t know what you’re talking about, so shut the fuck up.”
Brian placed his hands in his lap and said nothing. They rode the rest of the journey in silence.
When they arrived at Ted’s manor house, an Alsatian ran around from the back of the house and charged straight at them. Brian raised his fists in defence but soon lowered them when Ted began petting the dog and telling her what a good girl she was.
After Ted was done fussing, he side-eyed Brian: “Never try to fight Marcy.”
Brian nodded and the two of them made their way inside the house, taking their shoes off in the entrance, and heading to the kitchen.
“Drink?” Ted asked.
Brian pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time. “A little early, don’t you—”
“I’m not talking about alcohol.” He tapped the coffee maker on the worktop. “Want a cup?”
Ted didn’t wait for an answer, taking two cups from the wall-mounted rack.
“Is the coffee cold?”
Ted scoffed. He took the three-quarters full jug from the maker and poured coffee into a mug, the steam from the cup answering Brian’s question.
“Milk and sugar?”
“Just milk,” Brian said, then almost as quickly and far too loudly: “Wait!”
So Ted did.
Brian stood there, trying to recall exactly what Yuki had ordered. There’d been vanilla, cream, and sugar, but he couldn’t recall the quantities.
“Well?” Ted said.
“Got any vanilla?”
“Fucking hell, kid. This isn’t a café. Milk and sugar? Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
Ted added milk. Heaped in a spoonful of sugar. “How many?”
“A lot.”
“A number please.”
Brian hadn’t seen how many sugars Yuki had taken but remembered something about high metabolism. “I dunno, maybe six?”
“Kid, if I put six sugars in your coffee, you’re going to be bouncing off the ceiling.”
“You’ll shoot me?”
“What in the hell are you talking about? No one’s shooting anybody. What I’m saying is, you’ll be high as a kite.”
Brian looked up at the ceiling, taking in the light fixture and smoke alarm.
“You’re getting two sugars.” Ted finished the drinks and passed Brian his coffee. “Now, to the sitting room.”
They took to the same seats they had the previous evening, though this time there was no roaring fire and Marcy settled at her master’s feet.
“She’s a cute—”
“You’re not a dog person and you don’t have to pretend to be.”
Ted took his cigarettes from his pocket. After lighting up he flung them towards the coffee table much as he had the other day. They landed in the centre, next to a framed photo of a young boy wearing a smart shirt and waistcoat. The boy’s smile was wide, and he had a strong resemblance to Ted. Brian went to ask if he was Ted’s son when he remembered how much Ted had flipped out when Brian had mentioned parents and kids on their way to the manor house. Brian kept quiet.
“Let’s get down to business, you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” Ted said.
“You said get in the car and then—”
“Not how but why. Though, I reckon you knew that. I’ll tell you this, you’ve picked the wrong day to be a smart arse, the sooner you drop this … this … well, whatever the fuck this is, the better.”
Brian drank his coffee, almost choking on the taste. It was more like a dessert with all that sugar. But if it worked for Her, he could make it work for him.
“Looking into things on a public computer … For fuck’s sake, man.”
“You already said.”
“Yeah? Well it bears repeating. That level of stupidity is—”
“Pretty convenient you happened to be walking by at the exact moment I was in the library, don’t you think?”
“No, Brian, I don’t think it was convenient. I was tracking you.”
Brian had never met someone who so flagrantly spied on others. Did the man have no shame?
“Am I a person of interest?” Brian asked. “I thought you said—”
“You’re a pain in the arse, is what you are. There’s never been anyone quite like you who’s—oi, stop smiling, son, it’s not a compliment. Anyway, to get to the point, there’s been a development. A lead that might well put an end to this entire thing. But I’ve got to tread carefully. One wrong move and this entire investigation goes to shit. Which is why I want you here.”
“To help?”
“To stay out of the way.”
“I don’t think—”
“There’s a big bedroom with a bathroom opposite on the first floor. I reckon you’ll be comfortable there. Plenty of things to keep you occupied, including a large television with a Blu-ray player and all sorts of subscriptions: Netflix, Amazon, Now TV, and even some lesser-known services. I’ll hook up a games console, too.”
Brian scratched his head. “You want me to be your new roommate?”
“Christ no. But I do want you to stay here for a few days.”
“So I don’t interfere with things?”
“Partly that, partly for your own safety.”
“And what about Her? What about Yuki’s safety? If something’s going to happen at Pelagic Court then I need to be there, to protect her, to save her.” Brian stood up. “We should get Yuki now.”
“Sit your arse back down and relax. Yuki will be fine.”
“No, I will not sit down.” Brian ran his hands through his thin hair. “Exactly what the fuck are you doing?
“Working my case.”
“No shit. I’m talking about me being here. You … you can’t do this.” Brian made a fist, shook it at Ted. “You can’t fucking do this. I’m going to the police.”
“Brian …”
“I’ll tell Yuki.”
Ted sighed, then pursed his lips. He took a deep breath. “I understand you may have some reservations about—”
“Reservations? You think?”
“Let me finish, okay? I get it, I’m asking a lot. But there’s so much on the line. Give me a week. Stay here, let me work my—”
“A week? Out of the question.” Brian started pacing. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”
“That’s hardly enough time. You realise this is seriously fucking dangerous, right? We’re talking life and death. Your life. Yuki’s life.”
“Twenty-four hours or you can take me back to my car.”
Ted looked at his hands. “Three days. It won’t be easy and I’ll have to speed things up and take some chances—but if you give me three days, I’ll make it work. And if I can’t, you get to go home anyway. How’s that?”
“How’s that? It’s a bag of shit, is how it is.”
Ted glared.
“Watch your mouth, son. Three days.”
“No way. I said I’d give you twenty-four hours, though the more I think about it, the stupider it seems. Why the hell should I stay here? I’m not sitting on my arse with Yuki in danger. She could be dead in three days. Give me some reassurances, some information, some promises that things will be okay.”
Ted raised an eyebrow. “Do I strike you as the type of person who goes around making promises? Fact of the matter is this, I have a plan. A good plan. A plan that’s going to get her out and to safety, just as I’ve done for you here. With only three days, I’ll have to put it into action a little sooner than anticipated, but I’ll make it work. In many ways I’m doing you a favour seeing as—”
“Yeah, yeah, it really felt like a fucking favour when you forced me to leave my car. Not everyone has money like you. I may not be amongst the worst off, but I’m certainly not rich. A few hundred quid out of pocket is gonna sting.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Nobody said anything about money.”
“Then how—”
“Like I said, I’ll take care of it. Matter of fact, it’s already taken care of.”
“Just like that?”
“Just. Like. That.”
“I guess you know all the right people in this town?”
“I know the right people, the wrong people, the somewhere-in-between people.”
“What kind of a thing to say is that?”
“It’s an honest thing, Brian. Something you could learn from. Put it like this, you want me on your side.”
Brian squirmed in his seat. Ted smoked.
“The thing about Yuki—” Brian started.
“Is that neither of us really know her,” Ted finished.
“That’s bullshit.”
“Yeah? Then tell me what you know.”
Brian’s brain was scrambled, the PI playing tricks on him, trying to catch him out and force him to say something he’d later regret. He refused to play along.
“That’s what I thought,” Ted said. “I know you care for her and I know you’re a good guy, deep down, but you’ve got to cool off and let me handle things. I will do what I can for Yuki, but you’d be wise to remember that neither of us know the full extent of her involvement. Now I’m not saying she is involved, I’m just saying her motivations and such aren’t clear.”
“She’s got an interview at The Dolori Academy for goodness’ sake. Do you really think they’d consider someone with anything less than a spotless record? Have you any idea of the lengths they’ll go to vet someone?”
Ted stretched back in his chair, patted his legs, and Marcy leapt up to join him. “Honestly, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The Dolori Academy. It’s the most prestigious dance academy in the world. Only three locations, one in Italy, Germany, and England.” Brian said it as if it was so obvious, as if everyone knew the good old Dolori, as if he hadn’t learnt about it from Yuki mere hours ago.
“Well, I’m glad you take such a keen interest in dance. But an interview at some academy, or anywhere for that matter, doesn’t mean I’m gonna take shortcuts or give someone a free pass. I do my job properly.”
“She’s done nothing wrong.”
“I appreciate your loyalty to her and I’m sure she does, too. But if you make one wrong move, it not only jeopardises your life and mine, but it could put hers at risk.”
“I would never do that.”
“Good, then you’ll stay here. Play some video games, watch a few films—have yourself a nice little holiday.”
“No.”
“Three days. Two nights.”
“I said, no already!”
“No isn’t an option.” Ted scratched his trunk of a neck. “And besides, what else do you have to do?”
Brian thought about the hole in the wall but even he wasn’t stupid enough to mention it to Ted. “I need to protect Yuki.”
“Staying here is how you protect her.”
Brian snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Let me work with you.”
“I don’t need a sidekick. And besides, my status comes with certain liberties, something you don’t have. I can get closer to things—dangerous things—but you, you’d be a liability, son.”
Brian finished his coffee, put his head in his hands as he considered the hopelessness of the situation.
“Come on now, I’ll show you to your room.”