Like This, for Ever

Jacob. Nothing else from Peter, but that was his way. He didn’t join in the conversations. Then a comment that looked genuine.
    I played tennis with Oliver tonight. He left with Joe Walsh. Has someone phoned his house?
    Barney flicked screens to the news channels, but there was nothing there. Not that he would have expected it this soon. Back to Facebook. The comment thread was growing but most of it looked speculative and alarmist. People were enjoying the drama. Barney felt sick. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been hoping the pizza man had been the killer.
    Barney sat up and leaned towards the screen, as though physical proximity might make him understand more. Peter had posted again.
    Take care, he said, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. First cut is the deepest. Hold still, little Olly.
    ‘Why didn’t you warn us?’ Tom Kennedy demanded. ‘That’s what I want to know. You knew someone called Oliver Kennedy was going to be taken. Why wasn’t it on the news when we could have done something?’
    Oliver Kennedy’s father hadn’t stopped moving since Dana, Susan Richmond, Tom Barrett and a uniformed constable had arrived at the Kennedys’ home in Lambeth.
    ‘We didn’t know that,’ said Dana, in the gentlest voice she could manage. ‘Oliver wasn’t mentioned by name until this Peter Sweep claimed he already had him.’
    ‘But you knew he was going to take a kid tonight. If we’d been told that, we’d never have let him out.’
    For the love of God,
thought Dana.
Five boys have been killed in the past six weeks in this part of London and that wasn’t enough for you?
    ‘I understand how you feel, Sir, but I promise you, we are doing everything we can to find—’
    ‘Do you? Do you have any idea what it’s like to hear on the friggin’ television that a maniac has hold of your son? Do you have kids?’
    ‘This isn’t helping!’ came a wail from across the room.
    Oliver’s mother had barely moved from the sofa since Dana and the others had arrived. She clutched the neck of her oversized pink sweatshirt, her face a waxy shade of green. At her side sat a teenage boy, similar enough to his father for Dana to be sure he was Oliver’s older brother.
    ‘Thank you.’ Dana addressed the mother directly. ‘Now it will really help if you can tell us exactly what Oliver’s movements were this evening.’
    ‘We’ve already told that first lot you sent round,’ said Kennedy Senior. ‘Get your information from them. We need to go and look for Oliver. Come on, Caz.’
    As the father made for the door, the mother looked uncertain.
    ‘I’m afraid I need to speak to you both before you go anywhere,’ said Dana. ‘It’s in Oliver’s best interests, I promise you.’
    ‘The TV are organizing a search party. That doctor bloke is coming down himself. At least they’re doing something.’
    ‘Sir, I cannot let you go just—’
    ‘If it was a ruddy Paki kid, you’d be out looking for him, wouldn’t you, you heartless bitch!’
    An audible gasp from Susan, then silence in the room.
    Dana took a step closer to the man. ‘Mr Kennedy, if we don’t find Oliver safe and sound, my failure to bring him home to you will haunt me for the rest of my life. I swear to you that’s the truth.’
    He glared back. For a second, she could have sworn he was aboutto spit at her. She was almost flinching. Then his eyes closed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
    ‘I know,’ Dana said. ‘Now, I have thirty uniformed officers conducting a house-to-house search both in Lambeth and in Deptford Creek, another place we’re interested in. They will make sure the volunteers who arrive to take part in the search are properly directed. In a little while, if you still want to, you can go out and join them, although one of you will need to stay here in case Oliver gets in touch. Now, please can we all sit down?’
    He nodded. Dana made herself sit on the nearest sofa. One by one, the others followed her lead. She looked at the teenager. ‘You’re Oliver’s older brother, is that right?’
    He nodded.
    ‘I’d like you to go upstairs with the constable here and look through Oliver’s room. Touch as little as you can, and the constable will help you, but you’re looking for anything out of the ordinary. Any notes, bus tickets, anything that strikes you as a bit unusual. Can you do that?’
    The boy nodded. ‘I know the passwords for his computer,’ he said.