The Whisper Man

He is, I thought. But I also noted Saunders’s use of the present tense, and began doubting myself more. The evidence that had led me here was paper thin, and in the flesh Saunders looked like someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly. And he seemed genuinely surprised by the news that Jake had been abducted—upset, even.

I held up the picture of the butterfly.

“Did you draw this for him?”

Saunders peered at it.

“No. I’ve never seen that before.”

“You didn’t draw this?”

“No.”

He took a step back. I was holding the sheet of paper up, my hand trembling, and he was responding exactly the way anyone would when faced with a man like me on their doorstep.

“What about the boy in the floor?” I said.

“What?”

“The boy in the floor.”

He stared at me, more obviously horrified now. It was the kind of horror that came from gradually understanding he was being accused of something, and if he was faking it, then he was a phenomenal actor.

This is a mistake, I thought.

But even so.

“Jake,” I shouted past him.

“What are you—?”

I leaned up against the doorframe, almost chest to chest with Saunders now, and shouted again.

“Jake!”

No answer.

After a few seconds of silence, Saunders swallowed. The noise it made was so hard that I could hear it.

“Mr.… Kennedy?”

“Yes.”

“I can understand you’re upset. I really can. But you’re scaring me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I really think you should go now.”

I looked at him. The fear in his eyes was obvious, and I thought it was real. His whole body was frozen in a flinch. He was the kind of timid man you could force down into a huddle just by raising your voice, and it seemed I was halfway there.

Saunders was telling the truth.

Jake wasn’t here, and I—

And I—

I shook my head, taking a step back.

Lost now. Completely lost. It had been a mistake coming here. I needed to do what I’d been told to and get back to Karen’s house before I could do any more damage. Before I could fuck things up any more than I already had.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Mr. Kennedy—”

“I’m sorry. I’m going now.”

Sixty-four

Wait here.

What choice did he have? None.

Jake sat on the bed, gripping the edges with his hands. When George had left, he’d locked the door at the bottom of the stairs. The bell had still been ringing then. The sound had continued for another minute or so before finally stopping, and so Jake assumed that George must have answered it, and was probably still talking to whoever was at the door. Otherwise, surely he would be back up here? Doing what he’d been planning to do before whoever it was called around.

Maybe not if I’m good, he thought.

Maybe if he waited here then George would like him again.

“You know that’s not true, Jake.”

He turned his head. The little girl was sitting on the bed beside him, and she had her serious face on again. But it was different now. She looked scared, but also full of quiet determination.

“He’s a bad man,” she said, “and he wants to hurt you. And he’s going to hurt you if you let him.”

Jake wanted to cry.

“How am I supposed to stop him?”

She smiled softly, as though they both knew the answer to that question. No, no, no. Jake looked over at the corner of the room, where the short corridor led to the stairs. There was no way he could go down there. He couldn’t face what might be waiting at the bottom.

“I can’t do that!”

“But what if it’s Daddy at the door?”

Which was exactly what Jake had hardly been daring to think. That maybe Daddy did want to find him after all, and that somehow he had, and that it was him who was downstairs now.

It was too much to hope for.

“Daddy would come up and get me.”

“Only if he knows you’re here. He might not be sure.” She thought about it. “Maybe you need to meet him halfway.”

Jake shook his head. It was too much to ask.

“I can’t go down there.”

The little girl was silent for a moment.

Then:

“Tell me about the nightmare,” she said quietly.

Jake shut his eyes.

“It’s about finding Mummy, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never told anybody about it before, not even Daddy. Because you’re so scared of it. But you can tell me now.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she whispered. “I’ll help you. You walk into the living room, and the house feels empty. Daddy’s not there, is he? He’s still outside. So you walk across the living room.”

“Don’t,” Jake said.

“It’s sunny.”

He scrunched his eyes shut, but it didn’t help. He could remember the angle of sunlight through their old back window.

“You walk so slowly, because you can feel that something is wrong. Something is missing. Somehow, you already know that.”

And now he could see the back door, the wall, the handrail.

All revealed in stages.

And then—

“And then you see her,” the little girl said. “Don’t you?”

This wasn’t a nightmare, so there was no way to wake up and stop the image from appearing. Yes, he saw Mummy. She was lying at the bottom of the stairs, her head tilted to one side and her cheek resting against the carpet. Her face was pale, even slightly blue, and her eyes were closed. It had been a heart attack, Daddy told him afterward, which didn’t make sense because that was something that happened to older people. But Daddy said that sometimes it happened to younger people too, maybe if their hearts were too … and then he’d trailed off and started crying. They both had.

But that was afterward. In that moment, he’d just stood there, understanding what he was seeing in a way his mind couldn’t make sense of, because the feelings were all too big.

“I saw her,” he said.

“And?”

“And it was Mummy.”

Just Mummy. Not a monster. The monstrous thing was how it had made him feel and what it meant. In that moment, it had seemed like a part of him was lying there instead, and that he would never have the words to describe the world of emotions that exploded inside him, as big as the way the Big Bang had made the universe.

But it had just been Mummy. He didn’t need to be scared of her.

“We need to go downstairs now.” The little girl put her hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Jake opened his eyes and looked at her. She was still there, and somehow more real than ever, and he didn’t think he had ever seen anyone who loved him so much.

“Will you go with me?” he said.

She smiled.

“Of course I will. Always, my gorgeous boy.”

Then she stood up, and reached out, and took his hands, pulling him to his feet.

“What are we being?” she said.