Soul Fire

relentlessly.’
    ‘Where should they be looking, Zoe?’
    ‘I don’t want to get you involved, Alice. You don’t need to be tainted by this too.’
    ‘I told you before. I want to help. I need to help.’
    She stares at the ground. I wait.
    Finally, she looks at me again. ‘Well, If I were the police, I’d start with those photographs. The police said they were proof of nothing, but that’s not how I see
them.’
    ‘Proof of . . . nothing?’ I think it through. ‘But the killer took them, surely?’
    ‘That’s why I think Tim died. He found them.’
    ‘And gave them to you?’
    ‘No. Not exactly. You see, I’d set up the site before he died, because I was so angry. But it was never intended to feature anything like those pictures. They only arrived
after he died. He’d told me that if anything happened to him, I should look in this locker at college: a spare one. It belonged to a fresher who left. So I did, and I found memory sticks
– a dozen of them.’
    ‘With the photos on them?’
    ‘Those. Plus thousands of others. Most of them mean nothing, as far as I know. It took me hours to realise the one of the wine glass was significant. I think Tim jumbled them up, so
that if anyone but me found them, they’d think there was nothing to see. I’ve been going through them since he died, but I’m not even sure I know what I’m seeing – or
looking for.’
    ‘Or who took them?’
    She closes her eyes. ‘It has to be someone here, doesn’t it, Alice? Someone here with us .’ She’s whispering now.
    ‘You don’t know?’
    ‘Someone who was close to her, Alice. It has to be. If you saw the pictures . . .’
    ‘I could look at them, Zoe. I could come with you, now. There might be things I spot that you haven’t. We can skip the fiesta. I can tell you don’t care about it anymore than I
do—’
    ‘No! Don’t you see? If we’re not there, whoever it is will know. He’ll know. Or she will.’
    I stare at her. ‘You think it has to be Sahara or Ade, don’t you?’
    ‘Alice, I—’ Her eyes widen, as though she’s seen a ghost.
    ‘So this is where you’re both hiding!’
    It’s Sahara. Ade, Cara and Lewis are right behind her. ‘Honestly,’ she says, ‘those dark clothes of yours are very effective camouflage on a night like
this.’
    Zoe seems to back away, into the shadows. I reach for her hand, and stop her.
    ‘We were just admiring the yachts,’ I say. Weren’t we, Zoe?’ I squeeze her hand, then let go. ‘After the fire run,’ I whisper.
    She nods, then marches ahead, forging a route through the crowd.
    Lewis falls back with me. ‘So?’
    ‘So you were right. After the fiesta, I’m going back to her flat. There are more photographs, thousands of them. The answer’s there, Lewis. I know it is.’
    ‘But what do they show?’ I’m about to answer when I feel my phone buzz. Gabe? I reach into my pocket and take the phone out: He’s here. Alone. You
don’t have to come, but I promised I would let you know.
    It’s half past eight. It couldn’t be worse timing, but I can’t let Gabe confront Javier’s father alone. I owe him – and Javier – more than that.
    If I go now, I could still make it back for the fiesta – if I run.
    ‘Alice? Are you coming?’
    ‘Of course. Of course I am. But I just need a few minutes alone, to think. Tonight – well, it’s pretty intense, Lewis.’
    ‘Let me come with you.’
    I smile. ‘Alone, Professor. That means on my own, even without you. But I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.’
    ‘Don’t get lost, Ali.’ He squeezes my arm. ‘I’ll text you to tell you where we are. Apparently tonight is unmissable.’

44
    Now, Javier’s street is deserted. This is how it must have been the night he died.
    No old women, no children.
    No Gabe.
    ‘Gabe? Are you here?’
    But I feel like I’m the only person left in the middle of a warzone, where everyone else has fled. The coming fireworks could be an approaching army.
    I go up to the front door that Rosa disappeared through earlier. There are no names, though, just a panel of silver buzzers with flat numbers next to them. The top one is Atico , which
even I realise must mean attic .
    Has Gabe gone in ahead of me?
    I’ve got his number now on my phone, but, of course, when I try to call I get that Spanish message again and then a disconnection tone. So I text him instead: I’m here. Come and find me before you do anything.
    But will he? I saw how angry he was