Killing You Softly (15 page)

‘OK, keep talking.’

‘If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t mind who you spent time with or who you got text messages from.’

‘How come you know about the text – yeah, don’t tell me – Hooper.’

‘Hooper,’ she echoed. ‘And, aside from all that, you should be flattered.’

‘That Marco sends me a message?’

Raising her mass of wavy red hair from the nape of her neck, Eugenie elaborated. ‘That he chooses you over Charlie. She throws herself at him and he ignores her. It’s you he’s
interested in, Alyssa.’

‘And I don’t care. Charlie can have him – I’ve got Jack.’ That’s what it boiled down to, however simplistic it sounds.

‘Cool.’ Eugenie felt we’d cut through the crap and got where she wanted me to be. ‘Anyway, I was looking for Galina. Do you happen to know where she is?’

I shook my head. ‘She said she was going out to meet someone.’

‘I called her to talk about buying one of her handbags at mates’ rates but she’s not answering.’

‘Sorry, I can’t help.’

Eugenie took out her phone. ‘Look, there’s a picture of it here on the website – the little clutch purse in nude patent leather. Do you like it?’

‘Yeah, it’s cute.’ Noticing that Galina had ditched her own phone on her pillow, I picked it up and saw missed calls from Eugenie. ‘That’s why she’s not
answering,’ I pointed out. My mind was still snarled up in the traffic jam of thoughts and feelings following on from my fight with Jack, so I wasn’t paying much attention.

‘Who
ever
goes anywhere without their phone?’ Eugenie was suddenly concerned.

‘You’re right.’ Now I was alert, checking Galina’s phone and noticing that the battery was low. Automatically I looked around for the cable to recharge it, but had no
luck.

‘Does she often go AWOL?’ Eugenie wanted to know. ‘I mean, it’s past ten o’clock, it’s the middle of winter and it’s blowing a gale outside. I’ve
looked everywhere.’

Something else was missing and it only occurred to me at this point. ‘And where are Sergei and Mikhail? Were they at dinner? Did you see them hanging around?’

Eugenie shook her head. ‘But then Galina wasn’t at dinner either, otherwise I would have mentioned the bag face to face.’

I saw that the phone battery was down to ten per cent and kept on looking for the cable. Then Eugenie took it from me and listened in to Galina’s voicemails to see if they told us where
she was and who she’d met. Her eyes widened and her face changed from puzzled to shocked. ‘Quick, Alyssa – someone just asked for you on Galina’s phone. It sounds like the
start of a message.’

I snatched the phone back in time to hear a man’s voice. ‘Hey, honey,’ it said in an American accent that I straight away knew was fake. ‘I missed you – where have
you been? OK, I understand – you were making out with Jack and didn’t want any interruptions. Listen – I know you’re not expecting to hear from me on Galina’s phone,
but I do love to surprise you and I knew you’d pick this up sooner or later.’

A guy’s voice with a fake Texan drawl, using an app which slowed it down and distorted it. I felt my skin begin to prickle. ‘Are you still there, Alyssa? Yeah, it’s me again.
Listen, darling, I’m doing all I can to help you . . .’

‘I can’t listen to this!’ I said as I threw down the phone.

Eugenie picked it up again and gave me a whispered report. ‘He says he’s disappointed in you again. He keeps giving you clues, but you let the trail grow cold. What’s a message
for you doing on Galina’s phone, anyway?’

‘I don’t know, but save it – don’t delete it!’ I gasped.

‘He says never mind that you let the trail grow cold, he still loves you, especially when you’re angry.’

‘Press
SAVE
!’ I heard cold fingers scratching at the windowpane, saw the robin lying dead on the sill – they flashed back into my mind as vividly as
when they first happened. Now there was a new message, a voice telling me he loved me, and on top of this Galina was gone.

Raisa lived in a rented cottage in Upper Chartsey.

I didn’t know this until I retrieved her landline number from Galina’s phone before the battery finally gave out.

‘Hold on – maybe we shouldn’t panic,’ Eugenie said.

‘Then again, maybe we should.’ After the events of last year and given what had happened so far this term, I decided to call Raisa on my phone. ‘Hi, it’s Alyssa Stephens
here. I was wondering if you knew who Galina was meeting tonight.’

‘No.’ The answer came slowly, as if I’d woken Raisa, or as if she had trouble interpreting what I’d asked. ‘I think she is in school.’

‘That’s the point – she’s not here and she went out and left her phone in our room, which makes me worry that she left in a hurry.’

‘Say this again,’ Raisa interrupted.

‘Sorry, I’ll speak more slowly. I’m worried about Galina. Do you know if she went into Ainslee with a friend to see a movie or something?’

‘No movie.’

‘So when did you last see her?’

‘The afternoon. I brought clean dress from dry cleaner. She says she stays home tonight; she doesn’t need me. I come back to my house.’

‘OK, thanks.’

I was about to end the conversation when Raisa came back with questions of her own.

‘She is not in room? She is not with school friends?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘She is unhappy?’

‘No, not that I know of. Not since she ran away from Mikhail and he busted her lip. Since then she’s been OK – not crying or anything. And she said she was meeting someone.
Someone she knew.’

‘Lyublmaya moy,’
Raisa murmured sorrowfully. ‘I worry now. I take taxi. I come to school.’

‘No, don’t do that,’ I decided. ‘Let me make a proper search. I’ll call you back.’

Eugenie heard the plan and was out of the door ahead of me. We tried the obvious places again – other rooms along the girls’ corridor then out across the quad to knock on the
boys’ doors.

We didn’t get far before Bryony joined us.

‘Sorry to be a jobsworth, girls,’ she said at the top of the stairs, ‘but it’s my solemn duty to remind you that the boys’ dorm is out of bounds after eight
o’clock.’

Of all the staff, Bryony was the one I’d have chosen to be on duty that night. She doesn’t give out any crap about rules unless she absolutely has to. On the other hand she quickly
picks up a problem and helps when something serious is happening. Tonight she was warmly wrapped in a long black coat with a soft cream beret covering her dark hair.

‘Galina’s gone walkabout,’ Eugenie told her. ‘There was something weird on her voicemail.’

Bryony took us back down the stairs into the quad, where we stood under a starlit sky. The light from the full moon was strong enough to cast shadows and to pick out the masonry over the arched
doorways and windows. Two gargoyles carved in stone – one grinning, one sticking out its serpent-coiled tongue – squinted down at us. ‘What kind of weird?’

‘Some guy left a rambling message for Alyssa – on
Galina’s
phone.’

‘Let’s focus on Galina for now,’ I interrupted. ‘She told me she was meeting someone, but I talked with Raisa. She said Galina didn’t plan to go out this evening.
Galina left in so much of a hurry that she forgot her phone. And there’s something else – Mikhail or Sergei should still be on duty and they’re not.’

‘Yes, it’s true – I haven’t seen either of them,’ Bryony confirmed. ‘Let’s think this through. OK – given what happened to Galina earlier in the
week, I think I should tell Dr Webb right away.’

I stayed behind in the quad while Eugenie and Bryony hurried down the drive to the principal’s house, which was close to the main entrance. Having heard the voices and footsteps on the
stone flags, Luke opened his window and called down.

‘Alyssa?’

‘Yeah, it’s me. You haven’t seen Galina by any chance?’

‘Not lately.’

‘Could you ask everyone in the boys’ corridor for me?’

‘Marco, Alyssa wants to know where Galina is,’ Luke spoke over his shoulder. Seconds later, Marco appeared in the quad with bare feet, in T-shirt and jeans. Luke leaned out of the
window again. ‘Sorry about Marco. I don’t know what got into him. I just mentioned your name and he was like a greyhound out of the traps,’ he apologized.

‘Marco, can you go back in and find out if Galina’s up there in someone’s room?’ I insisted as patiently as I could.

‘What’s wrong?’ Marco asked, full of concern. ‘Are you in trouble?’

‘No – not me. It’s Galina. I want to know where she is.’

‘Alyssa, you’re freezing.’

‘I’m fine.’ I turned and yelled up at the window. ‘Luke, will you hurry up and look for Galina for me?’

Luke disappeared but Marco didn’t move. For a second I thought he was going to put an arm round me to shield me from the cold. He stood so close I could feel his body heat. ‘Bryony
will be back soon,’ I told him. ‘She’s gone to fetch Saint Sam.’

‘You’re shivering.’

‘We have to find Galina – it’s important.’ I’m tall, but Latin lover boy Marco is three or four inches taller, so I had to tilt my head back to speak to him. As I
did this, I noticed over his shoulder that Jack was standing at his window, watching us. I swore silently to myself.

‘Come inside,’ Marco invited. ‘At least wait where it’s warm.’

I shook my head and stepped away. Luckily Bryony and Eugenie were soon back, with Saint Sam in tow.

I gave him the facts and he acted fast, calling Molly and asking her to check CCTV footage in her office while he called the police. Bryony insisted that Eugenie and I go back to our rooms
before we caught our deaths. There was nothing else we could do – it was out of our hands, she said.

‘But, Alyssa, don’t stay in your room by yourself tonight,’ Bryony insisted. ‘Eugenie, you’ll make sure she doesn’t?’

It was agreed – there was a spare bed in Eugenie and Charlie’s room and I’d spend the night there.

‘Give me five minutes while I go and fetch my toothbrush and PJs,’ I told Eugenie. I needed breathing space and a chance to make a last check of the room. I didn’t know what I
was looking for, but there might be something I’d missed.

I went up and at first I thought everything was as I’d left it when Eugenie and I had dashed out. I picked up Galina’s phone and didn’t find any new messages – only a
final warning that the battery was about to die. Hoping that someone else might have a compatible charger, I put the phone down again on Galina’s bed. Then slowly the prickling sensation of
dread crept over me – a sense of interruption or intrusion – the feeling I always got when I found a sinister message or a threat. I began to notice small things that felt wrong –
the wardrobe door hung open and I always, always kept it closed. The duvet was crumpled, as if someone had been sitting on the bed, and my blue PJs weren’t under my pillow in their usual
place. Remember, I’m a methodical girl.

The bastard had been here again! He wasn’t here now because there was nowhere in this small room he could hide. But he’d definitely been in and I suspected he’d left me another
‘gift’, a memento of his visit.

I took a deep breath and threw back the duvet, but didn’t find anything. Then I quickly went through the clothes in the wardrobe until my phone rang. I jumped, dragged it from my pocket
and threw it on to my bed as if it might bite.

I read the screen – ‘Blocked number’.

Don’t answer it!

It rang out and I waited, hardly daring to breathe. Then the voicemail alert beeped – one new message, which I steeled myself to listen to.

‘Hey, Alyssa. Don’t you know I can read your finely tuned mind? Right now you’re thinking maybe the Russian mafia succeeded this time around. They snatched Galina. C’mon
now, ’fess up.’

Oh God, it was the same fake Texan drawl with the slow distortion, each word drawn out, with long gaps in between. It was so JR from
Dallas
that it would have been funny except that my
skin crawled with disgust. I felt the walls close in on me and I jumped at my own fragmented reflection in the leaded window.

‘Well, how wrong can you be? But I feel for you, darling, I really do. So here comes another clue. Forget the Russians. Use that fabulous memory talent of yours and focus closer to
home.’

There was a sound in the background – a door opening and a girl’s muffled voice – then the message ended abruptly.

Breathe! I told myself. Think. This is someone close enough to know what’s going on from minute to minute and arrogant enough to take big risks. He’s leaving clues, setting a
challenge.

Or ‘she’, I realized. Why does it have to be a ‘he’?

Because of the fake voice, the deep drawl.

But it’s distorted by a special phone app. It’s slowed down from a normal pace, impossible to recognize.

I was breathing, thinking these things through, when a message alert came up on my phone – number blocked again, and this time there were no darlings and honeys, no deliberately cheesy
love and kisses.

‘Better catch me quick, memory girl,’ I read. ‘You think this is bad but it’s going to get worse – one hundred per cent guaranteed.’

We handed Galina’s and my phones straight to the police when they showed up just before midnight. They tracked down the creepy messages and calls to different numbers
– all from pay-as-you-go or stolen phones, as it turned out.

Inspector Ripley arrived with an older plain-clothes guy, Sergeant Jimmy Owen. He was skinny with hunched shoulders and looked as if he’d tried to give up smoking for decades but failed.
His lined face and tired eyes behind heavy-rimmed glasses were a big contrast to Ripley’s bright and bushy manner.

‘We wouldn’t normally respond to a missing persons call until more time had elapsed,’ she told Saint Sam, Molly and me in the principal’s office. ‘But, given
what’s happened lately, we didn’t want to wait.’

‘We appreciate it,’ Sam said smoothly. I know that he never reveals what he’s thinking, even when someone has interrupted his viewing of his favourite Saturday night Dan Snow
documentary on BBC4. ‘I’m hopeful that everything will work out fine, but of course I have ultimate responsibility for the safety of pupils at St Jude’s and it would have been
negligent of me not to inform you of Galina’s disappearance.’