Sam slowed the car right down; then
he saw it: the road sign, clearly visible between two parked cars, and
accelerated.
He took stock of the house numbers.
Not all of them were visible; some were missing completely, others obscured,
but he got a glimpse of one at last: thirty five. He needed another to lock
down which direction he should be travelling in. There it was: twenty seven. He
started counting down as he drove. Jack’s house was seventeen.
There it was: narrow Victorian; steps
up to the front door, railings down either side; private hire taxi outside; no
visible parking spaces. It didn’t matter. Sam just slammed on the handbrake in
the middle of the road, then he was out and moving quickly.
The pressure against his brow was
starting to build.
Paintings on the back seat of the cab;
engine running; driver rapping the steering wheel in time with radio music; dashboard
meter ticking.
Sam ran up the steps and paused at
the door. It was very slightly ajar. Adrenaline was flooding his system. That
was good. This was it. No way that bastard could escape now. He put his hand on
the door then paused. The name “JACK” was in the doorbell slot for one of the
upstairs flats. It was Lucy’s handwriting.
Sam slipped the pink card out of its
place and held it in front of him at chest height. The handwriting was so
indicative. Those four capital letters illustrated her personality completely:
playful; innocent; open; happy.
Another surge of adrenaline entered
his bloodstream.
She was dead now. This little card
was one of the few artefacts that recorded who she’d been in any way. She could
never be playful or happy again. Because of Jack.
Sam dropped the slip of pink card
into his breast pocket and checked his gun.
11
Jack turned the corner at the top of
the stairs and started down.
The sky was overcast through the
little window he passed but that was okay. He’d be leaving the British weather
behind very soon.
He reached the hall. The front door
was ajar but that didn’t matter; he’d be going straight out in a minute. He
turned and headed down the dark corridor into the back of the building to look
for the landlord. His rooms were at the rear, beyond the communal kitchen.
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