Like This, for Ever

move to get past Dana. ‘I’m a photographer,’ she muttered to the tiled floor.
    Dana stepped forward, blocking her route to the stairs. ‘I called out to you, but you ran away. Why did you do that?’
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d like to check on my sons.’
    The stairs were empty. The grandmother had gone.
    ‘You were on the beach beneath Tower Bridge,’ said Dana. ‘Why would you go there on such a bad night?’
    ‘It was a crime scene. I was taking photographs.’
    ‘You weren’t carrying a camera.’
    Another step forward. The two women were almost nose to nose. ‘It was in my bag.’
    ‘You weren’t carrying a bag.’
    ‘Abbie!’ The grandmother was calling from the top of the stairs. ‘Jorge isn’t in his room. He’s not with Harvey either. I think he’s gone out again.’
    Abbie seemed to droop.
    ‘Abbie,’ said Dana. ‘How long have you known about Jorge?’
    When Lacey fell, the reality for Barney finally hit home. Until that moment, he’d been half waiting for Jorge to burst out laughing, to cut him and Huck loose, to say, ‘Got you!’ and admit it had all been the biggest possible wind-up.
    He’d bumped into Jorge after he’d fled Lacey’s flat and, in his misery, had confided his fears about his dad yet again. Jorge had been completely understanding, seeing exactly where he was coming from, but assuring him he was wrong. In urgent whispers that had been so convincing, he’d told Barney he had a feeling he knew who the killer was, that he didn’t want to say more now, butthat it was someone they both knew and that it would be a massive shock for everyone. If Barney would come to the old house with him, he’d said, they could break in and get proof.
    Half drunk on the knowledge that his father might be innocent after all, Barney had followed Jorge to the house, up the framework of the conservatory and then to the top floor of the house. He’d been scared, of course, close to petrified, but Jorge had given him courage somehow and when they’d heard Huck whimpering, Jorge had gone straight in. Barney had actually been having fantasies about the two of them being heroes when Jorge had jumped him. Even then, he hadn’t quite taken it in.
    Not until he’d seen the look on Jorge’s face as he’d flown through the air and swung the huge hammer at Lacey’s head had he even begun to believe that his best mate’s older brother, the coolest guy he knew, was a killer.
    Even when Lacey sat up, blinking, her eyes unable to focus on anything, Barney had a second of hope that it was the ‘Surprise!’ moment at a party, when suddenly all the mystery was laid open.
    ‘Who knows you’re here?’ Jorge was asking Lacey.
    Tell him you’re the first
, willed Barney.
Tell him half the Metropolitan Police will be bursting their way through the door any second. Scare him. Panic him. Make him run.
    ‘No one,’ gasped Lacey, giving first Barney and then Huck a strange, intense stare. ‘I came on my own. I love what you did on Facebook, by the way. Peter Sweep, the Missing Boys. Really clever.’
    What was she doing? Even Jorge wasn’t sure. His eyes narrowed, searching for sarcasm in the detective’s face. A movement to the left caught Barney’s eye and he glanced at Huck. The kid was no wimp, you had to give him that. He’d been bucking and pulling and wriggling since Barney had been thrown into the room. Now he was rubbing his face against the wood of the trestle table, trying to get the tape off his mouth.
    ‘You’re in a show, aren’t you?’ said Lacey. ‘I saw your photograph in the local paper. You’re actually playing Peter Pan in the West End. God, you even look like him.’
    Peter Pan? Peter Sweep? What was she talking about? If Jorge was Peter Sweep that made sense, it explained how Peter knew somuch about Barney. And yes, everyone knew he was playing Peter Pan in the show, but what had that—?
    ‘Come away with me to Neverland,’ sang Jorge, still crouched on the window ledge. ‘Lacey, gonna teach you to fly.’
    ‘The police haven’t a clue,’ said Lacey. ‘They’re still chasing round looking for a vampire.’
    Jorge actually sniggered at that.
    ‘Did you really do it by yourself ?’ Lacey was saying now, like she was some kid meeting a pop star for the first time. ‘Five boys, and now these two. It’s incredible. They’ll be writing books about you.’
    A look of scorn washed over Jorge’s face. He didn’t mean it,