Angel and Jen lived in a ground floor flat on one of the avenues branching off
Inside Blackford shivered. He’d practically lived there at one stage but now he felt like an intruder, stalking through on tip toes. Making straight for Jen’s bedroom Blackford didn’t waste any time, rifling through the wardrobes and drawers like a practiced thief. It didn’t look like any of her clothes were missing and Blackford noted that the bed was unslept in. If anything, the room was uncharacteristically neat, as if she was expecting a visit from her parents.
His phone rang. It was Angel. Blackford filled her in on his afternoon of activity.
“I don’t know Blackford,” she replied when he told her about his chat with the girl, “That doesn’t sound like Jen.”
“That’s what I thought,” Blackford agreed, “So I came round to yours to check if anything was missing and it all seems to be in place.”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line:
“You’re at mine? I already checked her room this morning.”
“Yeah sorry I let myself in, I couldn’t wait until you answered, not with Hayden scouring the streets.”
“Of course.” She sounded distant, “This is starting to sound bad Blackford, I say we go to the police with what we know. They’re sure to take more interest if they know Hayden’s involved-”
Blackford winced.
“True, but what if we’re wrong and Jenny turns up tomorrow? Then we’ve got Jenny in trouble and we’ll have Hayden on our backs. Do we want to take that risk?”
“I don’t care Blackford, I just want to know where she is.”
“Ok” Blackford stalled her “Maybe we should just wait until we find out a little more, see if there is away we can leave the drugs out of it. We don’t even know if she met Hayden last night. You keep checking the bars and I’ll stay here for a bit – see if I can turn up anything you might have missed.”
They said goodbye and promised to touch base later. Blackford looked around the room. It was pretty much as he’d remembered it, minus a few photos here and there. Again he was struck by the tidiness of the room; Jen was usually an unrepentant slob. He moved on to her dresser and turned over the drawers. The silver necklace he’d bought for her birthday last year was still there, as were her favourite rings and all her make up.
Finding nothing out of place, Blackford walked into the hallway. His eyes flitted around the mostly empty room, finally resting on the phone table. In amongst a stack of unopened bills and doodled notepaper a black leather-bound address book lay open. Blackford immediately recognised the careful handwriting as Jen’s. One number leapt out at Blackford from the page – James mobile. He was just about to dial it when a loud pounding noise interrupted him. Looking up Blackford saw a dark shape through the frosted glass in the doorway. He quickly fell to the floor and crawled back into Jen’s room on his hands and knees. He pressed himself up against the skirting and kept as still as he could.
After a few moments the rattling stopped and a shadow appeared on the wall in front of him. He lowered his head as far as his neck would allow and held his breath. The shape was pressed against the window. After a long minute the shadow got smaller and disappeared.
Blackford crawled out of the room and into the kitchen at the back of the house. Climbing over the sink, he opened the window and dropped out onto the overgrown grass below. Picking his way through broken toys and burst bin bags, he hoisted himself on top of the bin shed at the bottom of the yard and then lowered himself into the alley below. A solitary figure was loping up the far end of the alley. Blackford thought he recognised the uneven swagger but couldn’t be sure at that distance. The figure looked up and started to run. Needing no further cue, Blackford turned on his heels and fled. Without looking behind him once he was on
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