search box and typed in Privett. Twelve client numbers came up, all Billy’s case files, although ten of those were from before Alice Kenyon’s death in his pool. There were two from the last year, which surprised him, as other than Alice’s death, Billy had kept out of trouble. One of the files was at Donia’s flat, and so what was the other one?
Charlie clicked on Billy’s most recent client number. He expected to see a list of consultations and letters, so that he could trawl through the history of the file without having it in front of him. Amelia didn’t always put everything on the paper file.
There was just one entry from a week earlier, an attendance note, along with a few telephone calls and letters.
Charlie clicked on the attendance note and started to read.
It said that Amelia had visited Billy’s house, and that they had recorded a video. That’s all it said. Two hours.
He sat back. That note was too brief for Amelia. Attendance notes contained detail, so that they had a record of exactly what the client told them. That note was just so that she didn’t forget to bill him for the time, which confirmed his suspicions from the other file, that if there was nothing on the note that disclosed what was on the video, it told Charlie one thing; Amelia didn’t want a record of it on the file. That must be the disc that had been sent to the press and to the police and to Ted Kenyon. The video was the important thing, and there was no sign of a master copy.
Charlie sat back and ran through the events of the evening in his mind. He was missing something, he was sure of it. Where was Donia? Who was Donia? Just a work experience student all the way from Leeds. A long way to come to work for nothing. And staying in a flat too. It was costing her more than her time.
They had gone through the file together, and when it didn’t contain anything obvious, those people in black arrived. Had she let them in? Was Donia working for the group, and so had applied for work experience just to find whatever it was they wanted, which he knew now was the video?
But that didn’t sit with how she had been in the flat. Or was he failing to see past the pretty face?
He ran out of Amelia’s office, wincing, and went to the desk in reception. The job applications were kept in a folder underneath the desk, the applications for training contracts in one side, the requests for work experience in the other. He flicked through until he saw a neatly typed piece of paper with Donia’s name at the top.
He sat down and read it quickly. Donia Graham. An address in Leeds. Her education. A paragraph about why she wanted the experience in Charlie’s firm. Nothing unusual. Just another request for a foothold in a law firm, hoping that it might come useful later. They hadn’t checked whether any of it was true.
He put the paper down and realised that he didn’t know what was going on anymore.
Chapter Forty
John stood by the front door on guard duty, holding the shotgun, his eyes scanning the dark hills, trying to see into the shadows. He was still shaking after Dawn’s attempted escape, because he didn’t know what Henry would have done if she had got away.
It was still quiet. There were no headlights on the road, no people coming across the field. If Henry was right, people were coming to get them, but all he could hear was the crack of the branches in the woods opposite, and the occasional rustle of leaves as a bird took flight. The light from the house spilled over onto the edge of the field, the stone circle taking on an amber hue. He remembered what Dawn had said, that it was a graveyard, Henry’s legacy just a field filled with dead bodies.
John looked back and along the hall to where Dawn was trussed up, her hands bound in front of her. He wanted to go to her and find out more about Henry, but the rest of the group were sitting and watching her, making sure that she didn’t make another attempt at running.
Gemma walked along the hallway towards him. She looked distracted, her teeth teasing at her lip. As she leant against the doorjamb and looked over the field, John said, ‘Where did Henry come from?’
She looked at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘How did he become the leader? What’s his background?’
Gemma shrugged. ‘Just like us. I know what he told us, that he grew up the hard way and so understands.’
‘But those are just words. They don’t mean anything.’
‘You want specifics?’ Gemma said, and then she sighed. ‘He’s from Manchester. His father was a drinker, and he used to beat Henry, so Henry left home. He learned the guitar and survived by busking. That’s how he fell in with the festival crowd. He roamed around until eventually he ended up here. Just about being lost and found.’
‘What about prison?’ John said, and when Gemma scowled, he added, ‘Dawn said that he’d done some bad stuff, and had gone to prison for abusing a young boy.’
‘That was a set-up – Henry told us about that. It was just some daft kid who liked to make things up.’
‘He was convicted though, and went to prison.’
‘Prison is full of innocents,’ Gemma said. ‘He told us that his beliefs were founded there, because it gave him space to think.’
‘If you are in prison, you will think about being free,’ John said. ‘It’s natural.’ He turned to Gemma. ‘Dawn talked about Billy Privett.’
Gemma looked back into the house towards Dawn. ‘We’re not about the past anymore.’
‘She was going to tell me something about Billy Privett.’
‘So it’s good that she didn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
Gemma shook her head. ‘You don’t need to know. We’re about the future now, about fighting back.’
‘Was it anything to do with Alice Kenyon?’
‘Why do you say that?’ Gemma said, her eyes suddenly flashing angry.
John took a step back. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that,’ he said. ‘But why else would Dawn mention Billy, because she was talking about other things Henry had done?’
‘Why is that your concern?’
John thought about what to say, but as Gemma scowled at him, all he could think of was not upsetting her, and so he smiled an apology and said, ‘I just don’t want anything to stop us.’
‘Why would that stop us?’
‘I don’t know,’ John said, shrugging. ‘If the police come for Henry because of what happened to Alice, they won’t care about his vision.’
Gemma thought about that, and then, ‘Do you trust him?’
John considered that for a moment and then nodded. ‘Henry? Of course I trust him.’
‘So stop worrying,’ Gemma said. ‘Henry has it all under control.’ Then she frowned. ‘If the police go after Henry, we all go down. Henry, Arni. Even me. Is that what you
