Hide and Seek (14 page)

CHAPTER 29

17:41pm

The distorted voice sounded agitated.

‘Peter, you really have to start being more cautious. That’s twice the police have nearly caught you. I don’t have to remind you what happens if they get involved do I?’

Peter snapped back angrily.

‘The police are only after me because of you and your sick twisted games. That’s why you chose Colin first isn’t it? To involve the police in this from the start? Part of me thinks you want me to get caught.’

‘I don’t want you to get caught. I’ve spent a long time setting this up and I want you to have the opportunity to save more people.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘Peter, I want you to make it to the end of the game. For your own sake as much as mine.’

Peter quizzed, ‘What does that mean?’

Celo avoided the question.

‘What happened with Michelle?’

Peter wanted to ask him the question again but abandoned it for this new thread.

‘
You mean you don’t know?’

Peter felt a strange sense of relief that Celo didn’t know everything this time.
He’d felt that Celo had been watching him wherever he went - had seen everything he’d done.

‘I saw that she left with the police which was surprising, considering you saved her. Can you remember how much you told her about me?’

Peter instantly felt worried, had he broken Celo’s rules by talking to Michelle?

‘I had to tell her some things which have happened today,’ he stuttered and then added, ‘I couldn’t tell her that much because I don’t know myself.’

Celo was quiet for an uncomfortable few moments before he spoke.

‘She might not remember much of what you told her. I imagine she was in a state of shock. And besides there’s a very good chance that the police won’t believe her anyway.’

Peter bit his lip restraining his anger.

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Nothing, for now. We’ll just keep moving forward and see if anything comes of it.’

Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Anyway, congratulations on saving her. We’ve reached the half way mark and after being two nil down you’ve managed to come back and equalise.’

Peter was confused. He asked the question, ‘Who
’s the fourth person?’ But he already knew the answer and gasped, ‘Gavin. You killed Gavin?’

Celo responded in a matter-of-fact manner, ‘Yes,
that was me.’

Peter gripped the phone tightly,
fighting the urge to throw it away.

‘You....fucking bastard,’ he shouted.

‘I’m sorry Peter but I had to make sure you all came back to Bilton at the same time.’

Peter’s fury built up in his throat
, choking him.

‘I am going to make you pay for this.’

Celo did not rise to the threat.

‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves. It seems like you’re on my level now. Before today you wouldn’t have hurt a fly.’

‘I am nothing like you, you sick twisted fuck.’

‘We can discuss all this later Peter. But for now, the second half has already started and the clock is ticking again. I know you’re angry with me, and yourself, but are you ready to listen to the next clue?’

Peter snarled, ‘Go on. Give me your stupid fucking clue.’

Without pausing Celo
continued.

‘It’s a place where you used to go with the boys and the girls. Tired of the football you found it a bore. Bounce on the mats but watch out for the door. Peter Perkins has bad memories of this place. You have till 6:30pm to find and save him.’

This time Peter hung up before Celo could end the call. The words had gone in but all he could think about was Gavin. He thought of all the time he had spent revisiting the old letters and emails to see if there was a clue as to why he committed suicide. It had all been a waste of time - there had been no clue to find. There had been no suicide.

He
had felt that something didn’t add up, but instead of investigating, he’d just accepted the ruling. He cursed his own laziness. If he had just looked into Gavin’s death, like the friend he should have been, maybe he could have prevented today’s events somehow. His anger flared. It all pointed back to someone who could cover up the murder and make sure it was ruled as a suicide. He was assured now, more than ever, that someone from the police force must be involved.

He wondered if he could find out which police officer dealt with Gavin’s death. He could try and contact Gavin’s wife, maybe she would know, but he didn’t have a number for her.
Maybe he could visit her on the way to save Cas … and only then did his mind’s eye focus on the immediate task. Where was Cas? He played the clue over in his head but nothing sprung immediately to mind. He knew it must be something to do with the five-a-side they played every Saturday at the school. He tried to think of a time they had been tired of playing.

‘Bounce on the mats but watch out for the door?’

It wasn’t jogging any memories.

‘Think, Peter, think.’

All the other clues had involved people either hurting themselves or getting into trouble. He tried to think of a time Cas injured himself but could only recall the rugby injury at school when he broke his nose. He and Cas had been in trouble far too many times to recount and his mind went back to the game of Hide and Seek at the Marshalls site. He had been thinking about that earlier and wondering whether it had any relevance to Celo’s twisted game and whether it was a clue to his involvement.

Peter wondered if he should start walking towards the school anyway
. But if he then worked out the clue and it pointed to another location … he’d run out of time. Again, he wished he had a car. Then it came to him, Michelle’s spare keys were in a drawer inside the wardrobe in their bedroom. Should he go back to Colin and Michelle’s and take their car? No, he couldn’t risk it. Michelle might have warned the police that she had told him about the car.

Peter shuffled on the spot
trying to decide what to do next. He
had
to save Cas. He knew if he could, then Cas would help him solve this mess. He wouldn’t turn away from him as Michelle had done.

He was still dubious whether the location could be the school. He
had passed the school earlier on the way to Low Grange shops to save Cheryl. This would mean he was doubling back on himself. He had to be careful because the police could still be at the bakery around the corner. His clinching argument to himself was that Gavin’s house was near the school. He wouldn’t have time to risk going there first but he and Cas could both go there after he had saved him. Peter was surprised at the calmness that had settled on him. He felt sure he was going to save Cas.

He looked at the mobile
once more - 5:45pm, Sunday 25
th
November. For the first time something struck him about that date, as if he’d forgotten something important. Was it someone’s birthday? Janine’s birthday was 16
th
January and his son’s was 13
th
April. Was it something to do with why Celo had chosen this day for his twisted game? He racked his brain trying to remember why the date seemed significant but, like Celo’s last clue, nothing came to him.

Peter started walking in the direction of the school
- almost in autopilot. He added the potential significance of the date to the ‘to-do’ list growing in his mind and concentrated on the clue for Cas.

‘Tired of the football you found it a bore. Bounce on the mats but watch out for the door.’

Then it came to him and Peter picked up his pace towards the school.

CHAPTER 30

17:46pm

The boys of the Excellent Eight had booked a ninety minute session in the sports hall at school to play five-a-side one Saturday afternoon. However, after an hour of getting outplayed by a group of lads from the year above, they finished their game early. The five lads were lying flat out on the ground lamenting their heavy defeat. Steve wandered around the hall and on the off chance he tried the door of the storage cupboard which held all the school’s sporting equipment. He was surprised to find it open and beckoned the lads over. As the door swung open and light fell into the large storage area they were greeted with an Aladdin’s cave of new toys.

Peter, Cas, Steve, Gavin and Colin found new bursts of energy as they used the twenty minutes they had left to ape around with the equipment. There were four rows of rubber mats, each about eight feet long and wide, which were stacked in staircase fashion. The group took it in turn to climb
to the top and perform their most elaborate and theatrical dive down the mats as if they were bouncing down a rocky waterfall. Cas took a running jump and then dived headfirst onto the mats. He bounced off them, turned in the air and clattered sideways into the wooden door of the storage cupboard, sliding down it to hit the floor with a heavy thump. Everyone’s immediate reaction was to point and laugh but when he remained slumped on the floor without moving, the laughter died down.

‘Cas, are you alright?’ Peter said.

He approached the still body with genuine concern.

‘Cas?’

Peter put a hand on his shoulder and Cas jerked his body around quickly screaming ‘yarrrr!’ Peter jumped back startled as the rest of the group burst out laughing.

‘Cas, you arsehole.’

He approached again and offered Cas his hand to help him up. They started walking back to the mats and it was only after ten seconds that Gavin noticed something.

‘Shit Cas, look at your leg.’

Peter looked down at the same time as Cas to see blood pouring down his left leg from a wound just below his knee. Cas put his arm around Peter’s shoulder and started to hop on his good leg. They walked over to a bench and sat down as everyone gathered around them. On closer inspection, they could see the collision had taken a perfect triangular shaped wedge of flesh from his leg.

‘Jesus Cas, did you not feel
that?’ Colin said.

‘No, I
...’

‘You double hard bastard, that’s a right beauty. It’s t
aken a chunk out of your leg,’ quipped Steve.

Gavin and Colin went to find the PE teacher, who was supposed to be onsite in case something happened, but instead could usually be found tucked away in his small office
, feet up, reading a newspaper.

Mr Carter brought the first aid kit.
He was culpable for leaving the door unlocked, so they only got a light scolding for playing in the storage cupboard – then Mr Carter inspected the wound. He cleaned around the wound tentatively before stating the obvious.

‘You’ll have to go to hospital Cas. It looks like you need stitches.’

The boys were unsympathetic and happily debated amongst themselves how many stitches he would need.

‘I’ll have to give your parents a call, what’s your number?’ Mr Carter enquired.

Cas groaned, ‘My dad’s working, he’ll kill me if he has to leave work to take me to hospital.’

‘What about your mother?’

‘She can’t drive,’ he lied.

The boys were aware that this was one of the standard responses Cas gave to anyone asking about his mother. They understood that it was simpler than giving a long explanation about her
illness. Peter was about to offer to ring his parents, but Gavin offered first and went to the office with Mr Carter to phone them. Fifteen minutes later Gavin’s parents arrived and Cas was carried out to the car and taken to hospital.

Peter did as he said he would and called at Cas’ house on his way home. He tapped on the door and let himself in, as was customary. The television was blaring out an episode of Last of the Summer Wine and the two bar electric fire was blasting warm air into the room making it extremely stuffy. Mrs Perkins was slumped in a large backed chair, with an air cylinder stood by the side with a tube looping up to a plastic device clipped to her
nose. Her chest heaved heavily up and down, her breathing raspy. Upon seeing Peter she fumbled with the remote on the arm of the chair to reduce the volume on the television. She coughed to clear her dry mouth.

‘Hello Peter dear.’

She gave her best smile, her discoloured teeth showing between thin lips, and Peter could see it was an effort.

‘Hello, Mrs Perkins.’

‘Where’s my Peter?’

He tried to explain it as best he could
, so as to not alarm her, but as soon as he mentioned ‘hospital’ her eyes widened in shock.

‘He’s okay Mrs Perkins. He just got a little cut in his leg
- it’ll need a couple of stitches.’

He refrained from telling her a huge wedge of flesh had been
gouged from her son’s leg. He sat there awkwardly wondering how to excuse himself. After a lengthy silence he spoke.

‘I best get home or my mam will be wondering where I am.’

‘Okay dear,’ she said with a resigned smile but no argument.

He could tell that she would have liked him to stay longer, if even just to sit and watch the television together without talking. Mrs Perkins spent most of her time in the living room and even slept on the sofa he was currently sat on. Cas’ father
was often at home, given regular work was hard to come by, but when he was he’d spend most of his time in the backyard tending to his pigeons or down at his allotment.

Peter stopped at the door and turned back.

‘Do you need anything getting whilst I’m here?’

Mrs Perkins gave him a grateful smile that said thank you for asking.

‘No dear, I’m alright.’

He smiled back. ‘Okay, bye Mrs Perkins.’

Peter went home and told his mother what had happened; in perhaps too much detail for his own good. His mother scolded him, lecturing on the ‘perils’ of messing around. Peter stood, head bowed and nodded at the appropriate times to convince her that he was actually listening.

After devouring a quick sandwich he walked up to the hospital calling for Laura on the way.

When they arrived, Cas, Gavin and his father were in the waiting room. They had to wait there for another two hours before Cas could have his stitches. The children found it easy to make use of the time as they messed about but Gavin’s father grew more irritable, looking at his watch every five minutes, and muttering to himself.

In the end
Cas had to have ten stitches. When it was over he said the stitches didn’t hurt although his eyes were wet and bloodshot. He said the worst thing was the anaesthetic needle they had to put directly into the wound. Cas wasn’t the only one who hated needles and Peter, Laura and Gavin all grimaced as he recounted his ordeal.