Afraid of the Dark - James Grippando [115]
“That’s not what I asked,” said Jack.
More silence. Jack pressed. “Chuck, do you know something?”
“Vince is a big boy. I’m sure he’s fine. Shada, the flash drive, please.”
Shada selected one and inserted it in the USB port.
“I don’t like being kept in the dark,” Jack said.
“You’re seeing the files the same time I’m seeing them,” Chuck said. “How is that being kept in the dark?”
“I’m talking about Vince. You don’t sound very happy with Shada, and I have this feeling that you’ve pressured her into creating this complete diversion to keep me from finding out what Vince is really up to.”
“The files are encrypted,” said Chuck.
Jack was being ignored.
“Can’t you break the code?” asked Shada.
Ignored by both of them.
Jack’s cell rang. He checked the number but didn’t recognize it. He answered on the third ring, and the urgent voice on the line was strangely familiar.
“Mr. Swyteck? Is this Jack Swyteck?”
“Yes, who is—”
Jack stopped himself, suddenly recognizing the voice. It was the teenage girl who’d called him from Bethnal Green, who’d talked to Jamal right before he was killed, who’d claimed to know McKenna’s killer—and who was too frightened to call the police. Jack drew a breath and tried not to spook her this time.
“I was hoping you’d call again,” said Jack in a calm voice. “Are you doing okay?”
“No—I don’t know,” she said, straining with confusion.
Jack wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say, but he said it anyway: “You may not know this, but I’m in London right now. Probably not too far from where you are.”
“How do you know where I am?” She sounded more than a little paranoid.
“Don’t worry, I’m not following you. But I would like to meet with you, if—”
“No! I’m not meeting with anybody!”
Jack glanced at Shada, who was suddenly more interested in Jack’s phone call than in Chuck’s work on the computer screen.
“That’s okay,” Jack said into the phone. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“Is who dead?” asked Jack.
“The man who killed McKenna Mays.”
“We don’t know who killed McKenna. Do you?”
“Yes! I told you before, and I told Jamal, too. He’s creepy and scary and showed me pictures on his computer, and he said if I ever tried to escape I’d end up just like McKenna Mays.”
Jack glanced at his computer, wondering if those pictures were among the files that Shada had copied onto the flash drive.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you see him last?” asked Jack.
“A couple of hours ago,” she said, her voice cracking. “He came to the cellar and . . .”
“And what?” asked Jack.
She didn’t answer, and the crack in her voice had mushroomed into outright sobbing. Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep her on the line.
“Listen to me, please,” said Jack. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me where you are, but can you tell me where that cellar is?”
“No! Not if he’s not dead. I saw the pictures. He showed me what he’d do to me if I ever told anyone!”
“He doesn’t have to find out you told me anything.”
“He knows everything! This sucks so bad. Why couldn’t he die? He looked dead. ”
Jack did a double take. “He looked dead when?”
“When we left.”
“We?” said Jack. “Someone was with you in the cellar?”
“There was a big fight, and he just laid there as I cut off the ankle bracelet. Then we ran.”
“Ankle—” he started to say, but the bracelet was secondary. “Who was with you?”
She didn’t answer.
Jack tried again. “Please, I need to know who was with you.”
He heard her talking away from the phone. A few seconds later, she was back on the line. “I don’t know his name. And he’s not answering me.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t answer?”
Her voice was suddenly racing. “It was really a bad fight. They both got hurt, and he seemed okay when we ran. But I’m not so sure now. I’m taking care of him, and if he has to go to the hospital I’ll call an ambulance. But right now I don’t want to go anywhere until you tell me that I’m not going to end up like McKenna.”
“I promise that is not going to happen.”
“You don