Surviving The Evacuation: Harvest Part 18

"I saw it," he whispered. "Everyone remember their role? Then lets get this done."

"Make sure it keeps recording," Nilda whispered, glad that the camera gave her son a task that would keep him away from what had to be done next. She was equally grateful that the drones software didnt allow it to transmit sound.

She was at the bottom of the stairs and at the rear of the small group when they saw a figure coming out of the kitchens. Nilda saw Tuck move, but Chester moved faster. He leaped over a table, one hand reaching out to grab the figures throat, the other punching out in a low jab. The figure dropped, supported only by Chesters hand around their neck. It was then that the enormity of what they were doing and what would come next swept over Nilda. Before she could yell at Chester to let the figure go, he released his hand, and the suspected thief fell to the floor.

"A bit of light would be nice," Chester hissed.

Nilda turned on the flashlight and shone it down. It was Graham.

With Chester pinning the man to the floor, Tuck moved over and began a quick but thorough search, checking him for weapons. He didnt have any. Chester glanced up at Nilda. He was waiting for her to speak, but her mouth was dry, and the words wouldnt come.

"You have any handcuffs on you, Inspector?" Chester growled, pressing a knee further into Grahams back.

"Sorry, no," Styles said. "I left them back at the mansion. Not much call for them these past few months."

"Well, it doesnt matter," Chester continued after a glance at Nilda. He gave Grahams arm another twist. "Talk about bad luck, mate. The one adult left in Kent turns out to be one of Scotland Yards finest. And just when we discover weve a thief in our midst."

"Its more than luck," Styles said, sticking to his part perfectly. "Its serendipity. Fingerprints, that was your undoing. We lifted a set from everyone at dinner and compared them to the boxes. We knew it was you. They wanted to confront you in front of everyone." He knelt down next to the man. "But I said wait, because as a dog returneth to his vomit, a criminal always returns to the scene."

Styles glanced at Nilda. Theyd talked about it earlier, planned what each was going to say and when, and in what order so as best to elicit a confession. During those dying hours of daylight it had seemed so simple. Now, as she looked down, it seemed so false, so fake, so far from anything that approached justice that the very idea of the charade made her sick.

"Check that bag," Nilda said. Graham had come out of the storeroom carrying a small holdall.

Tuck picked it up, and slowly emptied it onto the table. It was a mix of items that had gone into the store that afternoon. What struck Nilda, however, was how small a selection it was. Chester and Styles were waiting, she knew. The line she was meant to use, the one Chester had said would work but which she had thought sounded trite even then, now seemed nothing but perverse.

"Do you have anything to say?" she asked instead.

Graham gasped something.

"Let him up," Nilda said, pulling out a chair. "Let him sit down."

Chester pulled the man to his feet and pushed him into the chair.

"Well, what about it? You were caught literally stealing from the mouths of children," he said, extemporising on the theme Nilda was meant to have followed. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Graham raised a hand to rub at his neck. He looked around and finally met Nildas eyes. There was no fear in the gaze.

"Is this it?" he asked. "This is how its going to be? You accuse me, and that counts as justice. What about a trial and a jury of my peers?"

"What would be the point?" Styles asked. "Weve caught you red-handed. Do you have anything you want to say in your defence?"

"Defence?" Graham snapped. "What the h.e.l.l is this? You havent told me what Ive done."

Nilda had been meant to. That had been one of her lines. Lines, she thought, as if this was some kind of play, but if it was they should have given more thought to how this act was going to end.

"But yeah, okay," Graham continued. "Ive got something I want to say. I want to know what everyone else thinks about this. What about Hana? I see shes not here."

"She doesnt need to be," Chester said.

"No," Nilda said. "Hes right. We should get her. Ill send Jay." And she turned around and saw her son standing by the staircase. In that moment, she knew that it was the right decision, and possibly the first correct one shed made since discovering the theft.

When Jay returned, Hana was with him. So was McInery.

"Evening, Mac," Chester said. "Couldnt sleep?"

"Who can sleep on nights like these?" she replied.

"Jay told me that Graham was stealing food," Hana said. "And that you caught him in the act. Is that true?"

Nilda wasnt sure to whom the question was addressed, but when Graham didnt reply, decided that she should. "We have video of him entering the storeroom and filling that bag, there," she said. "Its not the first time hes done it. The stores are mostly empty. Gone. Stolen. The boxes left, their contents taken."

"Well, thats..." Hana stumbled, clearly uncertain what to say. "Gone?"

"Weve enough for two days, maybe three. No more," she said.

"I... see. Well, Graham, what do you have to say?"

"That food belongs to everyone. I was just taking my share."

"What? All the food we had, you think thats your fair share?" Chester asked.

"No, but that bag there is," Graham said calmly. Too calmly, Nilda thought.

"Why?" Hana asked.

"Because Im leaving. Thats enough to keep me going for a week, and I reckon thatll be long enough."

"Youre leaving? To go where?" Hana asked.

"Away from here," Graham said. "I was going to leave months ago. I should have. Now, with all those kids, and all this talk of Anglesey. Well, its nothing but talk, isnt it?"

"But you have proof that the stores were taken by him?" Hana asked.

Before Nilda could reply, Styles answered. "Weve got fingerprints," he said.

"Ah," Hana brightened. "Of course. Yes. Detective Inspector Styles, Fingerprints. Thats good. Thats proof."

"And Id like to see them, too," Graham replied. Nilda wondered if there was a trace of a smile lurking under that angry facade. "If youre going to accuse me, then I want a trial in front of everyone. Present your evidence. Let everyone judge me."

Nilda could feel the house of cards shaking and understood what Chester had meant when he said that it had to be dealt with quickly and quietly.

"Thats a bad idea," McInery said.

Nilda looked at her and then back at Graham. McInerys expression was as unreadable as ever.

"Then tomorrow morning I-" Hana began.

"I think we need to talk," Nilda cut in.

Leaving Tuck and Jay to stand guard over Graham, they went into the kitchen.

"A trial would be best," Hana said. "We present the evidence and let everyone see that justice is done."

"And then what?" McInery asked. "If you stand up and say that this man was caught stealing food and then present the evidence and ask for people to decide on his innocence, you know that they will find him guilty. Then what do you do? Lock him up? That would mean he was fed but didnt have to work. Thats hardly the precedent you want to set. Or would you sentence him to hard labour? Except isnt that what were all doing every day? Or would you prefer something more permanent? Theres an executioners axe in one of the exhibits in the Keep. Shall I fetch it?"

"Crimes should be dealt with in the light of day," Hana said. "Not swept away under cover of darkness. We present the proof and do so trusting in the sound judgement of our fellows."

"We cant prove it," Nilda said. "That fingerprints thing was a ruse. All weve got on him is that he came out of the storeroom with a bag."

"And that isnt a crime," McInery said.

"He did it," Chester stated. "I can tell. Hes guilty as sin. As Mac says, a trials pointless, declaring suspicion is as good as a statement of guilt. So why dont you all go back to bed, and Ill take care of this. Tomorrow well say that he stole the food and ran away. We chased him, and he was ripped apart by the undead. Once word of that gets around, there wont be any more thefts whether someone else was involved or not."

"You mean youre going to kill him?" Hana asked, shocked. "Hes a person, Chester, not one of the undead. And what if hes telling the truth? What if hes innocent? No. I forbid it. At the very least, we should have a trial. We should be open and honest with one another, especially when it comes to matters of dishonesty such as this."

Nilda wanted to yell at the woman for her naivety. But she couldnt, because in her heart she wasnt convinced Hana was wrong.

"Then exile him," Nilda said. "He said he was leaving, so let him go. Right now, tonight. We can tell everyone that he ran. But we wont kill him. He gets what he wants, and weve dealt with a thief. The matter will end."

"And what about the food hes squirrelled away somewhere outside," Chester asked.

"Theres a limit to how much he can carry. Well look for it tomorrow. Well find it. There cant be many places its hidden."

"Are you all agreed on that?" Chester asked. "I see. This is a mistake, but its your mistake, and if Im leaving tomorrow, youre the ones wholl have to deal with it. Good night." He left.

"I agree," Styles said. "It is a mistake. One I hope I dont regret you making. If youll excuse me, Ill go and check on the children."

Nilda pulled the last of the bolts and opened the thick wooden gate.

"Go. And if you value your life, go far," she said.

Graham ignored her and pushed past. Nilda slammed the door closed, perhaps a little louder than she needed to.

"Thats over," she said. "Its over," she said again, looking this time at McInery.

"Is it?" McInery asked. "I hope so."

"Why would he want to come back?" Hana asked.

"Revenge is a strange beast, more potent than fear," McInery said. "But that wasnt what I meant. When we tell everyone what he did, there will be a s.h.i.+ft in att.i.tudes. Some may want to go after him, others will just want to leave, but theres a risk that many will never want to leave here again."

"Do we have to tell them?" Hana asked. "That he did it, I mean."

Tuck nodded, her hands moved.

"She says that the truth of his guilt is now immaterial," McInery translated. "It is better that people have someone to blame. I agree. The matter is over. We need to draw a line under it."

"And well tell everyone tomorrow morning, and that will be that," Hana said. "Yes. It was a grim business, but theres more than enough to worry about without fretting over the past."

"Indeed," McInery said. "And so here we are, the soldier, the mother, the idealist, and the... other. It is poetic, dont you think?"

"I think its late," Nilda said. "Good night."

Nilda woke to the sound of rain beating against the window. When she opened her eyes, there was so little light she a.s.sumed it was still night. She closed them again and tried to escape back into that half-dreamed fantasy of being back in Penrith, and where Jay would soon need to be prodded out of bed for school.

There was the sound of small feet splas.h.i.+ng through a puddle, followed by a high-pitched yelp, and a child laughing. She sighed and pulled the covers up higher.

There was a cold chill emanating from the old stones that promised a hard winter to come. It reminded her of those months when she couldnt afford to turn the boiler on and had to rely on the second-hand heat from their neighbours to keep the pipes from freezing. Those had been hard times, tough times. Harder on her than on Jay, as hed not known of her secret shame at being glad the teenagers aversion to water meant he skipped a few showers.

There was another laugh from outside, louder this time, and quickly followed by an even louder "Shh!"

Reluctant to let the fantasy fade, she darted a hand out from under the covers, rummaging around for the old pine chair she used as a night table. She found the watch, though it was ornate enough to be cla.s.sified as jewellery and heavy enough to be called a paperweight. She wrenched her hand back into the relative warmth, dropping the watch onto the mattress a safe distance from her body. How long did it take gold to warm up? It was a good conductor, wasnt it?

The watch was one of many that had come from a jewellers near Monument. There was no price tag, and the name wasnt the one brand that she recognised, but Chester had a.s.sured her that it was worth something in the five-figure range. That reminded her that he was leaving today. She sighed, reached down, picked up the still-cold metal, and raised it to her face. It was almost eight according to their local time. She pulled herself out of bed with genuine regret.

As she dressed, she wondered what time it was on Anglesey and whether they might adopt some new, or old, standard when communication was established. Fogerty was the only one whod managed to keep a clock going almost since before the outbreak. For everyone else, they were objects easily broken in a life of violent labour. The old warders clock had been carved out of a solid oak timber that the tide had brought floating up to The Traitors Gate almost a century before. A prisoner had carved a series of scenes into the wood. If interpreted clockwise, they showed a sequence of crime, punishment, and repentance. If you read the scenes counter clockwise, they told the story of a man unfairly punished. At least, thats what Nilda thought, and she wondered if that had been the secret intent of this now forgotten prisoner.

The carving was inexpert, and the mechanism matched. It needed winding once every twenty-three hours, and Fogerty had freely admitted hed forgotten on more than one occasion. When it had to be reset, hed used the overhead sun as an indication of noon. Daylight savings was finally a thing of the past. They could switch to Tower Mean Time. It made as much sense as Greenwich had.

Thinking of the images carved on that clock reminded her of what had transpired the previous night. She gave one last deeper sigh and left the room, knowing that the real work of the day would be in ensuring that the Towers fragile community was not destroyed by the news of the theft.

The announcement, made by Hana, was met with far less drama than Nilda had expected. In fact, it was met almost with silence. That was doubly unsettling. Not just because it suggested that the real reaction would come later, but also because she was nearly convinced Graham hadnt acted alone. She watched everyone closely, ready to pounce on the merest hint of suspicious behaviour. She only stopped when she asked herself exactly what kind of behaviour she was expecting anyone to exhibit, and what precisely shed do if she spotted it.

It was wishful thinking, she supposed. That a confession from someone else would mean McInery wasnt involved. Why she would want to take their supplies, Nilda couldnt fathom. But then, she could see no reason why anyone would, beyond the obvious. Chester was absent from the dining hall. Half expecting that hed already left, and uncertain whether she would prefer that, she went looking for him. She found him standing in the doorway to the Keep, his eyes fixed on the courtyard and its growing puddles.

"You cant go today," she said.

"Not yet, but maybe later. Rain like this will blow itself out," he said. "Give it an hour or so."

"Sure," she said, and tried to think of something to say. "What about Styles? What do you think he used to do?"

"Maybe he was an actor. Or just someone who liked watching crime shows a bit too much. It doesnt matter."

"I asked Jay. He said that when he went to fetch Hana, McInery was wandering around the castle," Nilda said.

"Whats odd about that?"

"Well, nothing I suppose, but she would have known the detectives at Scotland Yard, wouldnt she?"

"Possibly," Chester said. "But probably not all of them."

"But shed have guessed that he wasnt really police as quickly as you did."

"And told Graham, you mean, so the man knew he had nothing to fear from fingerprinting or anything else? Who knows? But," he added, "I think the most important thing for you to do now is ensure that nothing like that happens again."

"I was thinking better stock control and having rotas so the oversight was shared out over everyone, but it doesnt answer my question."

"No, because I dont think there is an answer to it. McInerys probably up to something, but only because she always was. Some habits are impossible to break, and if we sat here long enough we could come up with a plausible theory or three as to why she might want to get rid of all that food, but it would just be theories. Shed never admit it, and unless she did youre still going to suspect her. In fact, if she did admit it, youd suspect shed only done so to hide something even bigger. No, the matters done. Theres no way of proving anything now. But as I say, that doesnt matter, not now. When I said you dont want a repeat of it, I didnt mean the thefts. Those wont happen again. I meant last night. Youve got to sort out whos in charge here, what the rules are, and what youll do if theyre broken. Leaders.h.i.+p by committee isnt going to work."