Page 72 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

He felt a sharp slap on his jaw. “Don’t call me ‘sir’,” Elliot exclaimed. “Sir? What am I? A customer in a shop? A lord of the realm?” Alex knew why he was upset – he always hated it when Alex did or said anything that drew attention to the fact that he wasn’t Christopher.

“Sorry, Elliot,” he whispered, and Elliot immediately looked utterly contrite.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. That awful man already hurt you so much, and now I’m being beastly to you, too.” He wrapped his arms around Alex and burst into tears. “I’m just so out of sorts because of what happened to you,” he whispered into his neck. “I’m so sorry, my sweet.”

He calmed down enough to insist that Alex finish the BBJ – “Because I know how much you love doing this for me, darling.” Alex leaned back in relief once it was over, worn out by his houder. He couldn’t wait to escape to the gym for a few hours’ respite.

“Oh!” Elliot squealed suddenly. “It’s here. How efficient of Isaac. I was going to give this to you tonight over dinner, but let me show you now to prove how sorry I am for slapping you, my sweet.”

He flicked a holodoc up into the air in front of them. Alex glanced at it in surprise.

Last will and testament of Elliot Marvin Dacre

“Look, look, look!” Elliot scrolled down a few pages, pointing. “See. In the event of my death, I’m setting you free.”

“Oh.” Alex looked at the will and then back at Elliot. Did the man think he was a complete idiot? He knew Elliot’s finances were in a terrible state, and if he were to drop dead any time soon, Alex would have to be sold to pay off his debts .

“I did this for you to make up for what happened on Saturday, my love.” Elliot took hold of his face and covered it in tiny kisses.

“That’s really kind of you, Elliot, thank you,” Alex told him gravely, trying to keep a straight face.

“I’ve left dear Chantal a little bequest, too. I do love helping people.”

“How sweet you are,” Alex murmured. “Now, I should really get going. D’Angelo hates it when I’m late.”

“Of course. Off you go. Remember, don’t wear yourself out – we want to have fun later. Lots of fun! Now, run along. Chantal will be here soon, and I really must get on with some tedious admin.”

Elliot gave him one last kiss on the lips and then shooed him towards the door. Alex grabbed his gym bag, glancing back into the lounge as he left to see Elliot still scrolling through his new will, looking delighted about all the joy his death would bring people.

The duck felt like a refuge after the madness of the past few days, and Alex was relieved to finally have some peace and quiet.

He kept his gym routine light, because his back and arse were so sore, then took a long, hot shower and changed into a pair of skin-tight jeans and a silver shirt, with a neo-glam jacket over the top to complete the ensemble.

Then he gazed at himself in the mirror. His mask was fully in place, and his reflection gazed back steadily, showing no sign of the distaste he felt for the over-the-top outfit.

It was a sunny day, and he almost didn’t care about the black SUAV as it fell into place behind him.

He drove around for a little while, listening to music and enjoying his freedom, following one of the prescribed routes that Elliot allowed him.

He tried not to think about Neil because he didn’t want to give him space in his head.

He chuckled, instead, as he thought about Elliot’s ludicrous romantic gesture in showing him his new will. Madness. Yet so very Elliot.

Finally, he knew he’d stayed out for long enough, and he headed home. The street was busier than usual, and he frowned as he saw a big black van parked across the driveway. Was that one of Tyler’s fleet? It didn’t look the same, but he’d started to associate all big black vehicles with Tyler.

He parked on a neighbour’s driveway, as he sometimes did with their permission when the road was busy, and had just started to walk across the street when a pugnacious-looking man with a squashed nose came barrelling out of nowhere.

“Hey! You! Don’t move,” he yelled, drawing a weapon. He was wearing a black suit that looked very similar to Tyler livery.

Alex didn’t consciously decide to run, his legs just took off. He wasn’t going back to George Tyler again. He’d rather die. Elliot might not be perfect, but he was a damn sight better than Tyler. Where was Elliot anyway? Would he really let Tyler just waltz in and take him?

He ran down the street and hurtled, full pelt, around a corner into a side street, then slammed straight into what felt like a brick wall.

He landed on the pavement, his sore back aching.

Looking up, winded, he realised what had caused him to fall down so spectacularly.

A huge man was standing there, looking down on him, so massive he blocked out half the sun.

For a moment, Alex thought he had to be imagining things because it couldn’t be… it really couldn’t be, could it?

Josiah Raine was dressed in a beautifully tailored silver-grey suit over a lilac shirt, with a purple silk tie neatly held in place with an elegant silver clip. Framed in the light of the sun, he looked too big, too solid, too much Josiah fucking Raine to be real.

Joe flipped him over, shoved his knee into his back, and snapped a pair of e-cuffs on him. Alex blinked. What was happening? Was this a dream? Had he died in a duck crash and this was somehow the afterlife? An afterlife in which Josiah Raine, of all people, was arresting him? For what?

The stocky man in the black suit huffed around the corner, and Joe called out to him. Alex lay on the ground, trying to think. He was pretty sure this wasn’t the afterlife, and he definitely wasn’t imagining it, so this was actually happening – but what was “this”?

Joe flipped him back over, and Alex stared up at him, still in shock.

Joe gazed down on him, looking surprised.

Did he recognise him? Did he see that he was looking at Ben Smith again after all these years?

Alex began to tremble. The last time he’d been this close to him, Peter had been lying on the side of the road and Joe had been howling like a wild animal, his clothes covered in blood.

If Joe was remembering any of this, too, he gave no sign. He hauled Alex to his feet .

“Are you Elliot Dacre’s indentured servant?” the man in the black suit demanded, reaching them.

“Yes.” Alex moved his head to show them his gold ID tag.

“What’s your name?” Joe asked.

So, he definitely didn’t recognise him. “Christopher,” Alex replied.

“Christopher… Reed, wasn’t Christopher the name of the dead husband? The one who died in the AV drowning accident?” Joe asked his sidekick.

“You’re right, sir. Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Joe turned back to him. “What’s your real name?” he demanded.

“That is my real name,” Alex said firmly. “Elliot had it registered on the IS database, so that’s my name.”

“What was your name before you were indentured?” Joe pressed. Alex looked at him intently, willing him to recognise him. It’s me, he felt like screaming. It’s Ben Smith. You must remember me. You can’t possibly have forgotten that night.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Joe snapped with a sharp jerk of his head.

Alex felt a wave of intense disappointment. Joe definitely didn’t recognise him, and now wasn’t the time to enlighten him. He hummed his song in his head and summoned up his mask, emptying his face of all expression.

Joe looked startled by the transformation.

“Like I said, I’m just an indentured servant, nobody important. You should speak to Elliot,” Alex told him. “He’ll answer your questions.”

“I’m asking you.” Joe showed him his ID. “I’m Senior Investigator Josiah Raine from the Inquisitus Investigation Agency.”

“Oh, I know who you are, indiehunter ,” Alex said pointedly.

“And this is Investigator Reed,” Joe continued. “Why did you run when he called out to you?”

How on earth could he explain all about Tyler now, standing on the pavement in e-cuffs? That would have to wait for a better time.

“I was startled. I didn’t know who you were. Listen, whatever you think I’ve done, Elliot will be able to clear me.”

Joe leaned in close. “Well, that might be a problem. You see, we’re here to investigate Elliot Dacre’s murder. ”

What? Of all the things Joe could have said, that was the most unbelievable. Alex stared at him in shock.

“Elliot’s been murdered?” he whispered. “Poor Elliot.” Then, suddenly, he understood why Joe was here, and what this was all about. Nothing to do with Tyler, or Solange, or any of the terrible things that had preoccupied him for so many years. Something new, yet equally terrible, had happened.

“And you think I did it?” he asked. Of course Joe did – why else had he snapped those cuffs on him?

He suddenly realised that he meant nothing to Josiah Raine.

This man, who he’d been thinking about for years, didn’t have a clue who he was.

He was just here to investigate a murder, and Alex was his prime suspect.

“Did you?” Joe demanded.

Alex met his gaze coldly. “No, of course not.”

“What time did you leave the house, and where have you been all day?”

“I left at around nine a.m. to visit my personal trainer at the gym.”

“And that took you four hours?” Josiah asked, with a glance at his watch.

Alex hesitated. Shit, this wasn’t looking good. “No. I left the gym around eleven-forty-five.”

“Then where have you been for the rest of the time? Just driving around in that fancy duck?” Reed asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“For over an hour?” Joe sounded like he didn’t believe a word he was saying, and Alex suddenly realised he was in big trouble. Of all the times he’d fantasised about meeting Joe again, he could never, ever have imagined it happening this way.

“Yes.”

“On your own?”

Alex sighed. “Yes.”

“Can anyone vouch for your movements?”

Of course they could. A black SUAV followed him everywhere. Alex glanced over Josiah’s shoulder just in time to see the SUAV that had been shadowing him all morning slowly crawl off down the street and disappear. He gave a bitter smile .

“No… nobody can vouch for me.”

He saw Joe come to a decision. “You’re under arrest. We’re taking you back to Inquisitus for questioning.” He put a big hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Now, I’ll ask you again. What’s your name? Your real name, this time, not the one Dacre gave you. That little charade died with him.”

“Alexander,” Alex said quietly, unable to hold back a wry smile.

The first time he’d met Joe, he’d told him his name was Ben Smith, and today he’d given him the name Christopher Dacre.

Now, finally, after all these years, it was time to introduce himself properly. “My real name is Alexander Lytton.”