Page 74 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)
Chapter Twenty-One
Josiah
Josiah ran across the street to where the two Inquisitus guards were stationed in their duck.
“There’s been a break-in,” he told them grimly. “How the hell didn’t you notice?”
They stared at him in shock. “We’ve been here all afternoon, sir,” one of them said. “We didn’t see or hear anything.”
They all went back to the house and paced around the garden. There were footprints leading to the back fence and a shrub that was badly squashed.
“He got in over the back,” Josiah said grimly.
“That’s why you didn’t see him; you were watching the front.
” He examined the kitchen door. “Why was the key in the door? It’s kept in the cutlery drawer.
I never leave it in the lock.” He could have cursed himself for his stupid reluctance to embrace modern technology.
If he’d installed biokeys, it would have been much harder for Neil to break in.
One of the men gave a shamefaced grimace. “Alex would let us in to use the toilet, sir. We’d knock on the back door, he’d check through the window that it was us and then let us in, locking the door again after.”
“He shouldn’t have bloody well left the key in the lock,” he growled. “And you shouldn’t have been asking to be let in! There’s a pub down the road. I told you to go there.”
“It’s been raining.” One of the men shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how we didn’t hear the window breaking, though.”
Josiah did. He’d worked enough stake-outs to know how hard it was to concentrate the entire time.
The two men had been sitting in their duck talking and watching the front of the house.
The weather had been terrible all afternoon, as Storm Jasper had finally blown in and begun battering the UK.
No wonder they hadn’t heard the sound of glass breaking over the thudding of rain on the windscreen. Neil had chosen his moment well.
How had he dragged Alex over the back fence, though?
True, it wasn’t very high, and Neil was a well-built man, while Alex was slight by comparison.
Still, it would have been impossible if Alex was struggling.
But if Neil had him at gunpoint, then Alex would likely have complied.
Sem had said Neil had knocked Alex over the head, so maybe he’d been unconscious and Neil had carried him – not easy, but doable, especially for a man as motivated as Neil.
He pulled himself over the fence and found evidence of more squashed shrubs on the other side.
Glancing around, he saw a garden gate leading out onto the street.
It was unlocked. Pushing it open, he found himself in the street behind his own, but Neil and Alex were long gone.
Angry beyond belief, and anxious about Alex, he strode back to his own house.
“Return to Inquisitus,” he barked at the two guards. “You’re no use to me here.”
He was infuriated by their incompetence but he also wanted them out of the way, so that he could remove Sem safely from the building without any witnesses.
Big Jen arrived shortly after. Josiah carried Sem carefully to her duck and placed him in the back, then covered him with a blanket. He stopped Sofie as she tried to climb in beside him.
“You have to stay here,” he told her briskly.
“This is a crime scene. You must clean up Sem’s blood and remove all trace of him from this house, or Esther will have no choice but to report us to Sem’s houder.
You’ll find what you need under the kitchen sink.
I’d do it myself but I have to find Alex. ”
Sofie stood there in an agony of indecision. “Sem needs me.”
“Jen will ensure he’s seen by a doctor. It’s safer for you and him if you let her take over from here.” He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Come on, Dr Baumann. We both have jobs to do.”
She nodded, and he could see her summoning every ounce of her strength in order to assume a cool, professional demeanour. She leaned over and kissed Sem on the cheek.
“You’ll be okay, Sem. I’ll see you again when this is all over,” she said firmly, and then she turned and ran towards the kitchen.
Jen was as coolly efficient in a crisis as ever. “I won’t expect to hear from you unless it’s urgent,” she told Josiah. “I’ll take care of this. You go after Alex.”
He put in a call to Esther next and filled her in.
“I thought you had guards posted on your house,” she snapped.
“I did. The break-in happened around the back and they failed to notice. By all means give them a piece of your mind when you see them – I’ve sent them back. Esther, there’s blood here, so I called Dr Baumann over to take a look.”
“A lot of blood? Does it belong to Alex?”
“Some… I don’t know. It could belong to whoever took him. There are signs of a fight.”
“Do you think Tyler took him?”
“No.” Josiah could hardly tell her why he knew it was Neil, so he improvised.
“I think it’s Neil Grant. Last night, Alex told me Grant tried to buy his contract, but Dacre refused to sell it.
So I went to visit Grant today. He was hostile to say the least. I requested that he report to Inquisitus tomorrow to answer questions about Dacre’s murder. ”
“Do you think Grant killed Dacre, then?” He could hear the sharpness in her tone. She didn’t like loose ends any more than he did, and the sudden turn his investigation had taken towards Tyler and away from Dacre had always been an issue between them.
“It’s looking that way. He’s obsessed with Alex and hatched a plan to steal him from Dacre after his bid was refused.”
“I see. And you’re sure he abducted Lytton?”
“Yes. I think he’s been scoping out my house for some time, trying to figure out a way to get him.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’m going after him. Mahmoud says he works for a drug cartel in the Canary Quarter. That’s as good a place as any to start.”
“Agreed, but if you’re going into the Quarterlands, take backup and be careful.”
Josiah paced around downstairs, looking for clues as to where Neil might have taken Alex.
There was blood on the kitchen table – not much, but it couldn’t belong to Sem as he’d been upstairs the entire time.
Something gleaming caught his eye, and he crouched down on the floor beside the kitchen door and retrieved it.
He squinted at the little electronic button for a few seconds, rolling it over in his fingers, trying to work out what it was.
It left a red smudge on his hands – blood.
It was a microchip. That explained the blood on the door frame, too.
Neil had cut out Alex’s chip and thrown it on the floor.
No doubt Tyler had been informed within a minute of it happening, but it obviously wasn’t information he’d have shared with Josiah.
He knew he couldn’t waste any more time.
Stuffing the bloodied chip into his pocket, he set off.
He put in a call to Reed while he drove, filling him in.
“You need backup. You can’t go into the Canary Quarter alone,” Reed remonstrated. “It’s like a war zone in there.”
“He’s had Alex for hours,” Josiah replied, driving into a lost zone at breakneck speed and feeling the satisfying crash of the vehicle hitting the water. “I’m not waiting for backup.”
“You should have taken the men at your house.”
“They were useless. I sent them back to Inquisitus.”
“Well, that was stupid. Nobody bloody well goes into the Canary Quarter by themselves. I’m on my way – with backup.”
The Canary Quarter was close to the centre of Old London.
Once a huge shopping centre and office complex, it had become one of the biggest shanty towns in the country after the Rising, attracting refugees from miles around.
Some of their descendants still lived there, along with the new refugees arriving all the time – indies on the run, escapees from the government work camps, illegal immigrants, and those who were simply down on their luck. It was a good place to disappear.
He could smell the place before he even drew close – the familiar stench of the Quarterlands was etched into his brain – and he steeled himself.
He’d been to various Quarters since leaving the little slice of hell where he’d been born, but this one was on a different scale.
Canary was the name given to the entire cluster of many different buildings here, but each one would be a separate Quarter with its own name, run by its own gang, making it complex to navigate.
The water around the high-rise Canary complex was full of dinghies, inflatables, rowing boats, and jerry-rigged rafts made of old tyres roped together. There was an endless stream of traffic coming and going for miles around, including a fair number of ducks in various degrees of decrepitude.
The stink coming off the place was almost enough to make him throw up.
The water around it was sludge brown, full of raw sewage.
Those fortunate enough not to live in the Quarterlands often found it strange that so few Quarter kids knew how to swim, but this was the reason.
Nobody wanted their children ingesting that stuff.
Like LKG, the Canary Quarter was a thriving, watery metropolis, with a multitude of people coming and going at all hours of the day and night.
It was also a city in its own right, as so many large areas of the Quarterlands were, with its own rules, trade, currency, and eco-systems. The particular rules and rhythms of the Quarterlands were impenetrable to those who’d spent no time in them.
It was like visiting a foreign land where you didn’t speak the language. But Josiah did.