The Other People(84)

Gabe stared at him. “I managed to unearth a mugshot of his dad. It’s pretty old. He disappeared off the radar years ago.”

He reached into his pocket. Before he could get his hand halfway out, a fist closed like iron around his wrist.

“Don’t do it.”

The Samaritan’s eyes bored into his. He felt the bones in his wrist shift and something inside wilt. Gabe suddenly wished he had agreed to meet the Samaritan somewhere other than his own place. Here, if the Samaritan wanted to kill him, he would, and no one would see a thing or say a word.

“Okay,” he muttered.

The Samaritan released his arm. It fell, like a dead weight, to the table.

“I will tell you this once, and once only. You understand?”

Gabe nodded.

“You’re right. He was my boy. And he was only eighteen when that bitch had him killed. He wasn’t a bad kid. I know what he did was wrong. But he had a lot of good inside him, too.”

“He killed a man and went to a party.”

“And you ran over a girl when you were drunk and left her brain dead. And yet here you are. You, with your white privilege, get a second chance.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know you were poor. But white poor ain’t the same as black poor, and don’t try and say it is. The white trash who almost kills a girl drunk-driving gets a suspended sentence. A black kid, up for manslaughter—take a card and go straight to jail. Boom.”

Gabe remained silent.

“Jayden felt remorse. He told me. He wanted to make amends, to change his life. Like you did. But he never got the chance. Because some bitch, blinded by revenge, got him killed. You know what they did? They didn’t just cut his throat. They beat him first. Pulverized every organ in his body. He died slowly, alone. Just eighteen.”

“How did you find out?” Gabe asked.

“It took some time, but I’ve got my ways. I started searching for her, following the trail. And I found her. Tracked her down to some little village in the Midlands. I watched her and I planned what I would do to her.”

“She had a daughter.”

“And I had a son.” He glared at Gabe. “But then she disappeared, never came back. I lost her again.”

“But you put two and two together. You knew she was involved in what happened to Jenny and Izzy. That’s why you found me, became my friend. You weren’t looking out for me, you were looking for Fran and you thought I might help you find her.”

He shrugged. “You were easy to find, man. Hanging around service stations with your flyers. I did what I had to. And I did you a favor.”

“How?”

“If Fran was alive, you don’t think she’d come back for Izzy? You really want that?”

Gabe couldn’t reply.

The Samaritan nodded. “Yeah. Thought so.”

Gabe had known it. Feared it. But knowing you’re right doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“There’s something else,” he said.

“What?”

“Miriam. Someone must have worked it out and got to her before me. Gave her a gun. Told her to kill herself.

“Sounds like good advice.”

“She called him the Sandman.”

“Cool name.”

“Yeah. It is. On the bridge you said you had a lot of names. Is that one of them?”

The Samaritan sat back and regarded Gabe silently for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was low and grave: “Y’know, I’ve stood on that bridge, too. After Jayden died. Except my bridge was a bottle of whisky and a lot of tablets. I waited for the darkness to take me. But it didn’t. Not all the way. I found myself on a beach. But not a beach like anywhere on this Earth. This was some other place. It was cold. And the sea was black and angry, like the waves might reach out, grab me and drag me down…I couldn’t stay there. I ran and I scrabbled up that shore. I woke up in hospital, vomit down myself, shit in my pants. And this in my hand.”

He tapped his tooth and Gabe felt his insides turn to ice.

“A pebble.”

“Yeah. Weird shit. Like I’d walked through a nightmare and brought back a souvenir. I had it broken up and a piece set in my tooth. To remind me.”

“Of what?”

“Of what lies waiting. For people like me.”

“That’s how you got the name?”

The Samaritan shook his head. “That wouldn’t make sense, man. Pebbles, sand. No.” His voice hardened. “I got the name because I put people to sleep.”

Gabe felt goosebumps dust his skin.

“You done with the questions now?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I should go. I have to fetch Izzy from school.”

The Samaritan held out one large hand. “Good seeing you again, man. Stay safe and look after that little girl of yours.”

Gabe hesitated and then shook his hand. The Samaritan waited until he had turned from the table before he said: “You know, if you really want to tie up all those loose ends, there’s one thing you’ve forgotten.”

Gabe sighed. He turned back. “What’s that?”

“The car?”

“What about it?”

“You were driving back home that night, right?”