“We keep the curtains shut, and Sem sleeps a lot anyway. The doors and windows are always locked – we don’t open the door to anyone, as per your instruction,” Alex reminded him. “The press have stopped hanging around outside, too.” They had – not least because Esther had threatened them with legal action for pursuing her agents in the privacy of their own homes.
“I know, but it’s still risky. We need to move him soon, for his own safety.”
Alex’s face remained twisted in a rictus of disappointment. He was struggling so much that even the smallest setback seemed to set him off.
The next morning, Josiah woke up early to find Alex scrolling obsessively on his nanopad, his face drawn and pale. Had he slept at all? He took a shower, dressed, and jogged downstairs to find Alex now in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea, still obsessively scrolling.
“What’s so interesting?” Josiah asked, glancing at the nanopad over his shoulder. He was surprised to see hundreds of photos of Charles and Noah open on the screen.
“Charles always did love social media,” Alex muttered, looking up with a twisted grin that spoke of part fondness, part malice. “I mean, how else does he know he exists if he’s not being fawned over by his admiring fan base?”
“He does love the limelight.”
“Well, he’s a national treasure. It’s a busy job.”
“Does it make you feel bitter? That he’s so beloved, while you…”
“I’m the evil brother? No.” Alex shrugged. “He might be walking again, but it’s clearly not easy or painless. What right do I have to feel bitter?”
“You’re only human.” He kissed Alex’s cheek. “Look, I can understand why you want to look at pictures of your family, just don’t brood on them, okay?”
“Sure.” Alex gave him a too-bright smile.
“Why don’t you get your paints out and draw something?” he suggested. Alex gave an absent nod but continued his obsessive scrolling, and Josiah was pretty sure he’d still find him looking at photos of his family when he returned.
It was a busy day, and just before noon, Mel ran into the SID, excitedly waving her holopad. An image appeared in front of him.
“And this is…?” He raised an eyebrow, gazing at it.
“I managed to get DNA from the skull. There’s this new technique they’re trialling in China and I read up on it, and… Oh, you don’t need to know the details!”
“This is Solange’s DNA profile?” He studied the holopic as if it was the holy grail.
“Yes. Or at least, it’s the DNA profile of whoever that skull belongs to,” Mel added with a note of caution.
“Reed – pull up the IS database – let’s compare it with what’s on file for Solange,” Josiah ordered, fighting down a rising sense of excitement. This was what they’d been waiting for. If they could prove that skull belonged to Solange, they were one step closer to proving that Tyler had killed her.
They all gathered around as Reed fed in the data and ran a comparison check.
“Well?” Josiah demanded impatiently.
“I’m sorry, sir. They don’t match,” Reed told him quietly.
You could have cut the atmosphere in the SID with a knife.
“What?” Josiah stared at the screen. They’d pinned everything on this being Solange.
“It’s not her,” Reed said. “The DNA profiles don’t match. That skull doesn’t belong to Solange.”
With a heavy heart, Josiah returned home later that evening to tell Alex.
“It’s not her?” Alex slumped down onto the sofa. “But surely… I mean… Who else could it be?”
“Plenty of people. Who knows what’s down there? There could even be the remains of an old graveyard that got swallowed up in the lost zone.”
“So now what? That skull was all we had to go on. It’s the only reason you arrested Tyler. Is it over?” Alex looked up sharply. “Do I have to go back to him?”
“No, it’s not over. I’m in no rush to inform Tyler’s lawyers about what we’ve found, so that buys us a few days. As for going back to him - no. I’m not going to let that happen. I’d get you out of the country if it looked remotely likely. I’d find a way. Somehow.”
