Blackbird. N.D. Gomes

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СКАЧАТЬ of heavy wooden doors. This one has a security keypad beside it. He punches in a four-digit code and the doors click open. He pushes them and waits for me to follow. I haven’t been here since the day after my sister was officially reported missing. I had wanted to leave that day. I had thought she was just staying at a friend’s house nursing a hangover. I had been so sure we’d find her. He had been so sure we’d find her – or had he lied to me?

      I get up and hear the sheepdog barking behind me. The doors seal tight after I walk through. Dozens of desks stretch out before me, most unattended. On the desks sit stacks of file folders, coffee mugs and framed photos of smiling children.

      I walk past the desks to his, wondering if these files have some new information about Olivia. I feel a dull ache spread along my shoulder blades. That chair in the waiting room was not the most comfortable. I don’t remember falling asleep. I remember waiting for Birkens to come back from a call, and then being in my nightmare. It had happened so fast, before I had even felt myself slipping into sleep’s grasp.

      Officer Allans sees us coming and stands up from his chair. He looks eager, ambitious. All the things Detective Inspector Birkens isn’t any more.

      ‘Big night last night?’ he asks Birkens.

      Birkens ignores him and shakes his head. He gestures me to sit down, and walks over to a coffee cup on the windowsill.

      ‘Don’t drink that!’ says Allans holding his hand out.

      Birkens looks into the mug, then places it down on the desk beside me. I glance into the deep mug and see a film of white foam on the surface.

      ‘How long has this been sitting here?’ Birkens asks.

      ‘I think you poured that cup over a week ago, sir.’

      ‘That’s disgusting,’ he says. ‘And stop calling me sir. It makes me feel old and superior.’

      ‘But you are my . . . superior.’

      ‘In a few months you’ll have passed your exams and be a detective too. Then you can take over from me after I leave. You’ll really have to stop calling me sir then.’

      ‘I’ll only be a DC. It’ll take me years of experience to get to be you, sir. But I hope to be.’

      ‘I hope you don’t,’ he says, glancing back at me.

      ‘You’re leaving?’ I ask, feeling my chest tighten. He can’t leave. We haven’t found Olivia yet. Why would he leave now?

      He sinks into a distressed brown leather chair and leans back. He legs fall to the side, and his long dark raincoat folds underneath him. I don’t know why, but I want to remind him that his coat will wrinkle if he sits like that. Why did I just think of that?

      Eventually he clears his throat, ‘I’m retiring. Officially on the first of January but then this came up and we didn’t want it to go to Aberdeen.’

      I feel that pain in my chest return. I sit up and hunch over, clasping my hands together.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he says, ‘I won’t be going anywhere until we find your sister.’

      I take a deep breath and nod, feeling a little lighter than before.

      He’s staying.

      He’ll find Olivia.

      I get up from the chair and walk to the window. A seagull swoops past the glass causing me to take a step back. Seagulls are everywhere on an island. You can’t escape them. Hungry, desperate birds.

      ‘Any messages for me since I’ve been out?’ I hear Birkens and Allans talking behind me.

      ‘You have three phone messages from Mrs Laird. She says you promised to talk to the McAllastair boys about staying off her property. She says they’re scaring the sheep again.’

      ‘Why is it that Mrs Laird thinks I have nothing better to do with my time than tend to a sheep dispute?’

      ‘Because we usually don’t have anything better to do with our time,’ laughs Allans.

      I glance back at them.

      ‘Sorry. I forgot you were here,’ says Allans, his face starting to redden. ‘Sir, is the interview room not free?’

      I sit back in the chair and lean back, letting my knees fall awkwardly to the sides. Mahogany shelves hold books on criminal investigations, forensic evidence collections, and the odd non-fictional account of past cases from Scotland Yard. A large white board sits on the wall to the right of the bookshelf, probably meant for case profiling but a 2012 calendar is still taped to it. The office probably hadn’t had a real investigation in years, clearly since before 2012. Island police crime tends to be the odd house break-in, motor vehicle theft and even an occasional sheep scaring.

      I see another police officer in uniform sitting at a desk closer to the back wall, likely completing mundane administrative tasks, such as filing reports or documenting office expenses in a spreadsheet. I wonder what Glasgow’s main office looks like compared to this.

      The heater in the corner of the room splutters gently and churns to radiate more warmth for the office, but fails. Outside, seagulls squawk, waiting for me.

      ‘You’ll need a new calendar,’ Allans says, nodding towards the white board. ‘I think I have a spare one at the house. I’ll get Jenn to bring it over.’

      Birkens ignores him and stares at me. ‘Do your parents know you’re here?’

      I shake my head.

      He sits down beside me. ‘I’ll go call your mum and dad and let them know you’re here. They’ll be worried sick about you.’

      ‘They probably haven’t noticed I’m gone,’ I mumble.

      ‘There’s nothing you can do here, Alex. We have officers out in the field following up on new leads –’

      ‘That’s a lie. You don’t have any new leads,’ I say.

      ‘We’ll call your house immediately if we find anything, you know that.’

      ‘I don’t want to be at home right now.’

      He frowns and takes a deep breath. He looks a little younger than I first thought, maybe mid-fifties. Too young for retirement. So why is he so desperate to leave? What does he hide behind those dark eyes? He sighs and gestures to the entryway at the back of the office. ‘Go make a cup of tea, and I’ll call them and tell them you’ll be home within a half hour. Deal?’

      I nod and follow Allans to the break room. He shows me where the teabags and sugar are, and flips the kettle on for me.

      He leans against the tiled counter and folds his arms against his chest. ‘You know, I am really sorry that you and your family are having to go through this. It’s not easy, and it’s not fair.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘My wife and I don’t live too far away. If there’s anything we can ever do for your family, please let us know.’

      I СКАЧАТЬ