Cry for Help by Steve Mosby Read Free Book Online Page A

agreement in the city. Everything could be traced.
    Somehow, though, she had to do this.
    After thinking for a few moments, Mary snatched up her coat and made her way downstairs, glancing left and right up the street as she went outside. Cars whined past, shocking her. Everybody seemed to be looking.
    He seemed to be everywhere.
    He's not.
    It took her half an hour to find a payphone a safe enough distance from home. Once there, ignoring the dull throbbing in her leg, she held the receiver up to her ear and dialled the number given on the screen just before she left.
    As she waited, despite her surface intentions, she was aware of what she was feeling inside, along with the fear. It was that dangerous type of hope. Perhaps this time . . .
    'Hello,' a woman said. 'Police special invest--'
    Mary interrupted her. 'I know who killed those girls,' she said.

Chapter Five
    Sunday 7th August
    Outside the car, the sky was growing dull, the late-afternoon breeze now bringing the first traces of evening with it. But the residual heat from the day was enough to hold people out a while longer: as I drove past Hadden Park I saw groups sitting out on the grass, and students in bright shorts knocking a football around in the distance. Along the main streets, the benches outside pubs were full of people settling in for the evening, not ready or willing to move inside or go home yet.
    At traffic lights, Choc and Cardo's car sat in front, red lights staring implacably back like the eyes of a rat in a tunnel. Each time we stopped, I felt an urge to flick on the indicator and turn off. But I didn't. Instead, as their car gunned off again, I released the handbrake and accelerated to keep up.
    Choc hadn't told me where we were heading, but the place wasn't important. It was what would happen when we got there that mattered. I pictured it in my head like this: the three of us would knock on a door, Eddie would open it, and all the colour would drain from his face. That much I wanted to see. Then Choc was going to have a word with him. I knew that word wouldn't remain entirely verbal but, after seeing Tori at the piano, the thought didn't trouble me much. In fact, I was pretty sure I wanted to see that too - although I might draw the line at joining in.
    And rationalising it like that, it wasn't too hard to stay behind them and ignore my common sense. Each turn-off, in fact, felt dark with my own guilt and failure, whereas following Choc and Cardo seemed like tracking the only ray of light I could imagine right now.
    We crossed town and headed out to the east of the city, the main streets segueing into smaller, quieter country lanes. After twenty minutes their car indicated left, and I followed them up a thin, off-road track, driving slowly now, the tarmac switching to gravel that crackled beneath the tyres. We rounded a bend, and the track opened up into a parking area. Here, the gravel was piled up in several large mounds on the right, and a dense curl of trees stood in front and to the left.
    A quarry, I guessed. Deserted on a Sunday.
    One car was already sitting there, empty, and Choc pulled up alongside it. I drove in next to him and we sat for a moment, our engines idling.
    The rational part of my brain was more worried now.
    This isn't knocking on a door, is it? This is the middle of nowhere.
    But we were here now. I cut the engine and heard nothing but birdsong, then the clunk of car doors as Choc and Cardo got out and started towards the woods. When they reached the edge they glanced back at me, impatient. I took a deep breath and then headed after them.
    'If anyone asks,' Choc told me, 'you're in The Wheatfield right now. That cool?'
    'Yeah,' I said uncertainly. 'Where are we going?'
    'Not far.' They both moved off between the trees. 'Watch your step.'
    We walked a little way in. There was no path here, just a tangle of roots and grass underfoot. Smaller branches had fallen from the trees and formed ribcage traps that snapped in the