Deakes had spotted his tail several streets earlier and played ignorant. He allowed the car to follow him through the city, ensuring his speed was not too slow to arouse suspicion and not too fast to lose his shadow. It bode well that someone deemed him important enough to keep tabs on; his investigation must be heading in the right direction.
He took random turns as he contemplated his options. He wanted to find out who was following him, and to do so before he headed over to Park Heights to continue his search. A solution occurred to him. He drove to one of the suburb’s shopping districts and pulled over. Without glancing back to see if his shadow had also parked up – he knew they would – he walked into a charity shop.
Three customers browsed the various bric-a-brac while, behind the tiny counter, an older lady looked up from her worn John Le Carre novel. Her face lit up when she saw Deakes.
‘Jordan, dear,’ she said. ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘Hello, Aunt Lindsey,’ he said, leaning over the counter to give her a peck on the cheek. ‘It’s not a social visit, I’m afraid, I’m on a job. I just need to go out of your back door.’
Her eyes wrinkled with devilish delight. ‘One of your spy missions, eh?’
Deakes winked and tapped the side of his nose. Lindsey knew he was a private investigator but often romanticised his role into something more mysterious and he was happy to play along with her harmless fun.
He passed through the cluttered storeroom and left the building, then sprinted up the alley behind the row of shops. When he reached an open doorway, he stepped in and made his way to the front. A surly butcher looked at him in surprise.
‘Apologies, I’m on police business,’ Deakes lied as he left through the front door.
Back on the high street, fifty yards behind his parked car, Deakes scanned the vehicles. Sure enough, the black Mercedes had pulled over. It held one occupant, studiously watching the entrance of Aunt Lindsey’s charity shop. Deakes approached the car, opened the back door and slid inside.
‘What the-’ the driver began as she turned in her seat. Her face fell as recognition registered in her eyes.
‘It seems I don’t need to introduce myself,’ Deakes said. ‘Why don’t you give me the courtesy of levelling the playing field?’
‘You can call me Andrea,’ she said without hesitation. She was either telling the truth or well-practised in the art of lying.
‘And why are you following me?’
‘I’m trying to find Salina Edison,’ she said.
‘Who is Salina Edison?’ Deakes asked, keeping his face straight. He was also not a stranger to hiding the truth.
Andrea cocked her head to one side. ‘I thought we were being courteous with one another.’
Deakes looked deep into her eyes. He saw no subterfuge or deceit, only concern.
‘Okay,’ he relented. ‘Why are you looking for Salina?’
‘She’s in danger. I want to offer her sanctuary.’
‘From who do you want to protect her?’ he asked though he suspected he knew the answer.
‘Your client.’
Four days earlier, William Edison had employed Deakes to locate his missing sister. Twenty-four year-old Salina had not been seen for three days. When asked what the police had advised, Edison told Deakes they were looking into it but, as she was a grown woman, it was not a priority.
‘A few days is not long in the life of a young woman,’ Deakes said. ‘Could she have hopped on a plane for a week in the sun?’
Edison informed Deakes that Salina suffered a rare condition which precluded the option of spontaneous holidays. She needed monthly treatments and was, in less than two weeks, due to be admitted to a private medical facility where she was to undergo an experimental procedure which was hoped would cure her. Edison feared that an interloper had convinced Salina her affliction could be managed by other means and helped her abscond.
Deakes’s first task upon accepting the job was to call his contact in the local police and ask what progress had been made in the case. He was not surprised to hear that there had been no reports made of a missing Salina Edison. Now, as he sat in the back of Andrea’s car, he wondered whether Edison had also exaggerated Salina’s health issues.
‘How does my client pose a danger to Salina?’ he asked, careful not to reveal Edison’s name.
Andrea twisted further in her seat. Less strain on the neck, Deakes figured.
‘To appreciate the risk to Salina,’ she said, ‘it helps to understand her… qualities.’
‘I was told she has a rare medical condition.’
‘Is that what William said?’ Andrea scoffed.
‘Do you have better information?’ Deakes asked.
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes studying him.
‘You’re being paid by William to return Salina to him,’ she said with determination in her voice. ‘But I think you’re a good person at heart and will do right by her.’
Deakes refused to comment, and hoped his own eyes did not betray the distrust he held for Edison.
‘What do you know about therianthropy?’ Andrea asked.
‘Never heard the word,’ Deakes said truthfully.
‘How about lycanthropy?’
‘I’ve seen Underworld,’ Deakes said. ‘It’s another word for a werewolf. What does that have to do with Salina?’
‘Therianthropy is the combination of human and any animal form,’ Andrea said. ‘Salina inherited a specific gene sequence from her mother. It’s likely that it goes back many generations but I’ve not been able to confirm this. Both Salina and her mother have the ability to transform into other creatures.’
Deakes was unable to keep the incredulity from his face.
‘Are you seriously telling me Salina sprouts hair and fangs every full moon?’ Though he found the idea ridiculous, he recalled Edison saying that his sister needed monthly treatments – about the same length of time between moon phases.
‘I’ve not seen her change so I can’t be certain,’ Andrea said, her tone solemn. She either believed what she was saying or was the best liar Deakes had ever met. ‘It’s unlikely though. I’m sure a wolf loose in these parts would have been reported before now.’
‘I’ve read of a clinical syndrome in which the patient believes they turn into a wolf,’ Deakes said. ‘Could it be this mental syndrome which Salina suffers with?’
Something like doubt flickered in Andrea’s eyes. Not doubt, Deakes thought, but disappointment.
‘If that’s easier for you to believe, yes,’ she said. ‘Either way, she needs help and the sooner I can get to her the better.’
‘She does need help. On that we agree.’
‘So you will help me find her?’ Andrea’s face lit up with hope.
‘Better than that,’ Deakes said. ‘I’ll take you to her. We may as well go in my car. Use less fuel and save the planet.’
Andrea nodded eagerly as they got out of the Mercedes and walked up the street.
‘You said you wanted to offer her sanctuary,’ Deakes said. ‘What did you mean by that?’
‘I know a safe place where…’ Andrea paused and Deakes knew she was choosing her next word carefully, ‘people like Salina can get help and protection. An asylum if you will.’
They reached Deakes’s car. He used the key to open the driver’s door, pulled the handle then swiftly pressed the remote locking button on the key fob. As Andrea ineffectively tugged on the passenger side, Deakes jumped in and started the engine. He pulled out before putting his seatbelt on and sped away. He knew he’d be streets away before Andrea had returned to her car to give chase.
Tracking down Salina had not proven difficult. Reviewing her social media posts had led to several friends who Deakes had managed to meet in person and casually interview. While all showed concern for Salina’s safety, only one triggered Deakes’s investigatory senses. Tracy Hepworth became restless and was unable to maintain eye contact when asked if she knew about her friend’s whereabouts.
Performing a background check on Tracy – not strictly legal, but he doubted it would lead to anything he’d need to present in a court of law – he discovered something unusual in her financial pattern. Tracy lived in the Beechside area of the city and worked in the town centre yet one of her credit cards had been repeatedly used in Park Heights, seventeen miles from Tracy’s regular haunts. It could be a case of a stolen or cloned card but for the fact that the notable activity began one week ago – the same time that Salina went missing.
Deakes had been on his way to Park Heights to scout out the area when he’d spotted Andrea following him. Now that he was confident he had lost Andrea, he resumed his journey. He pulled into the car park of the area’s main shopping plaza, a complex of modern buildings which boasted bakeries, coffee shops, a food hall, home furnishing stores, a salon, clothes shops, restaurants, a toy store and a gym. It was a mini city centre on the outskirts of town.
He went into Starbucks and took a window seat. It was a long shot that he would chance upon Salina but it was currently his only option. Tracy’s credit card had been used around the plaza on six of the past seven days. Whoever was using it was a frequent shopper.
Four hours later, into his fifth coffee and second piece of carrot cake, he saw a young woman with a blue bob stroll past. Her emerald kaftan billowed as she moved. Salina had jet black hair which fell to her elbows and dressed in blacks and purples. But the gait of the stranger was identical to the postings Deakes had watched on TikTok and Facebook. Cutting and dyeing her hair would have been the quickest way for Salina to disguise her identity and brightening her wardrobe would only have added to the illusion. This also tied in with some of the first charges to Tracy’s credit card, at New Look and the local hairdresser.
Deakes hurried from the coffee shop and began to follow. He needed to get close enough to see the woman’s face without alerting her. Unlike many of the other dawdling shoppers, she was walking with determination. Deakes picked up his pace, moving faster than his quarry, and marched past without a sideways glance. Thirty feet further on, he stopped to look at a window display, angling himself to face the approaching woman.
There was no doubt. The shape of her nose, her taut lips, the mahogany eyes so dark they appeared black – he had found Salina Edison. As she drew closer, Deakes stepped forward to speak to her.
But he didn’t get the chance.
From behind him, a female voice shouted, ‘That’s her.’
Salina looked beyond him then, seeming to notice he was moving directly toward her, kicked him hard in the shin before turning to flee. Deakes hobbled after her, casting a glance behind him to see who had called out. Andrea was pointing in Salina’s direction. A tall, bearded man was already sprinting forward.
Deakes pushed himself faster, forcing both the question of how Andrea had found him and the smarting in his leg from his mind. He had fulfilled his contractual obligation to William Edison of locating Salina and was now presented with a scared young woman being pursued for unknown reasons. He could not allow her to be taken by Andrea and her cohort until he fully understood the situation.
Salina ducked into a boutique. Deakes followed, taking the time to knock over a display of costume jewellery in the doorway. It wouldn’t bar the door but would create a few seconds’ delay. He saw Salina at the back of the shop, heading for a door marked Staff Only, and sprinted after her. A sales assistant tried to stop him but he deftly sidestepped her. The clatter of the front door colliding with the fallen jewellery stand came to him as he pounded through the interior door.
A short passageway led past a breakroom and staff toilet to another door which was slowly closing. Beyond was a set of stairs. A sign told him he could go down to the Storeroom or up for Roof Access. Salina’s footsteps above him informed him which way to go.
He climbed the switchback steps and passed through the outer door. The flat roof stretched for the entirety of the shopping complex, dotted with other access points. Rather than making her escape via a different shop, Salina was heading to the edge of the building. They were only one flight above the ground but the surrounding area was paved. A jump from this height may not be fatal but it could cause serious injury.
She reached the parapet and looked over.
Deakes stopped twenty feet from her, raising his hands.
‘Don’t do it,’ he called.
She looked back at him. Her eyes were haunted.
‘I’m not with them,’ Deakes continued. ‘I don’t know what trouble you’re in, but landing yourself in hospital won’t help.’
‘You won’t catch me,’ Salina said and climbed onto the parapet.
‘Please,’ Deakes pleaded but his words fell on deaf ears. Salina stepped off the building.
With his heart in his mouth, Deakes sprinted to her. He reached the edge, took a half-second to steel himself for the sight, and peered over. Below him, Salina’s kaftan lazily drifted to the ground.
A dark shape rose, narrowly missing his head as it swept passed him. The bird screeched, soared higher then turned in the sky. Dumbfounded, he tracked the raven’s flight until it was just a dot in the distance.
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