Chapter 11 - Anna
Talia met Elias at the municipal conservatory after closing, when the glass roof held only the reflected lights of the empty streets.
She had asked him to come alone. He had brought Mara.
“I said alone,” Talia told him.
“Mara is not a crowd,” Elias said.
Mara stood a few steps away among the dark trees, hands in her coat pockets. “I can leave.”
“No,” Talia said. “Stay.”
The conservatory smelled of wet soil and leaves. Somewhere in the building, a pipe knocked at measured intervals.
Talia gave Elias the memory card.
“The full recording,” she said. “I edited the public copy because I thought if Sloane was visible, whoever sent him would know I had it.”
“You knew his name?” Mara asked.
“Not then.”
“You knew the man in the jacket.”
“I had seen him near Northline.”
Elias held the card between finger and thumb. “Why were you filming us?”
“Because I was supposed to meet you.”
Mara looked at him.
“June sent me to you,” Talia said.
“June has been dead six years.”
“She left a letter with Ruth. Ruth hid it.”
“What did it say?”
“That you had the voices and she had the numbers. That if the station was ever reopened, I should find you.”
Elias looked down at the card.
“Why did you not tell me?” Mara asked.
“Because I did not know she was June’s daughter.”
Talia’s face hardened. “You knew enough.”
“I knew a girl called Anna. I did not know where she had gone.”
“You never looked?”
“June asked me not to.”
“And you obeyed.”
“I obeyed because I thought she was trying to save you.”
“You all use that word.”
Mara watched Talia’s hands. The silver rings moved against one another with a faint, nervous chime.
“What happened to June?” she asked.
Talia looked at the dark glass above them. “Ruth says it was a brake failure.”
“It was,” Elias said.
“That is what you told her.”
“That is what the police told me.”
“Did you believe it?”
“No.”
“Then why did you let me believe it?”
Elias had no defense that did not sound like another form of cowardice.
Talia continued. “June came to Ruth’s house two nights before she died. She had blood on her sleeve, but not her blood. She told Ruth people were looking for the recorder. She told her to keep me away from Calder.”
“Where was the recorder?” Mara asked.
“June had hidden it in a film canister.”
Elias’s head lifted.
“The silver capsule,” Mara said.
“Sloane took it,” Talia said. “He took it from you at the bus stop.”
“How do you know?”
“Because June told me where she would put it.”
Elias closed his eyes.
“What does it contain?” Mara asked.
“A microcassette.”
“Another recording?”
“The original.”
Talia’s voice lowered. “It has Vale ordering the steel substitution. Not suggesting it. Ordering it.”
“Who is Vale?” Mara asked.
“Martin Vale,” Elias said. “Calder’s chief development officer then. He is now the chairman of the Northline medical project.”
The pipe knocked again.
“Why would Sloane take it to Pike?” Mara asked.
“He may not have,” Elias said.
Talia’s eyes shifted toward the conservatory doors. “Pike was in the alley.”
“You saw him?”
“Not his face. His watch.”
Mara remembered the photograph. Pike wore the same square-faced watch, even fifteen years later.
“He took the capsule,” Talia said. “Sloane took the archive key.”
“Why would Pike want the recording?”
“Because he helped June make it.”
“And because he was afraid of what it would prove,” Elias said.
Talia looked at him. “You still protect him.”
“I am trying to understand him.”
“That is what people do when they want to forgive someone before they have earned it.”
Mara stepped closer. “You could have handed the full recording to the police.”
“I did not trust them.”
“You trusted a public video.”
“I trusted no one. I chose the risk I could control.”
The answer was too adult for her face.
“You were working with Nolan,” Mara said.
Talia looked away.
“You put Elias in danger.”
“I was trying to get the archive key before Nolan did.”
“By sending children to frighten him?”
“I did not send Jace.”
“You knew what was happening.”
“I knew Nolan would use them. I thought the police would interrupt before it became serious.”
“You were wrong.”
“Yes.”
She said it without flinching.
Elias put the memory card into his coat. “We go to Northline tomorrow.”
“The station is fenced,” Mara said.
“The archive room is beneath it.”
“And demolition begins in eight days.”
Talia reached into her pocket and removed the brass tag marked 14.
Mara took it. “How?”
“He left it in a place he thought no one would search.”
“Where is he?”
Talia’s expression changed.
“He called me,” she said. “He wants to meet Elias before the station opens.”
“When?”
May you like
“Tonight.”
The conservatory lights flickered once, then steadied.
