“For as long as you stay quiet about what happened that night? So, he still owns you, then?”
“No! I’m a free man now. I don’t wear nobody’s ID tag and chip anymore.”
“You’re not free while he pays for the roof over your head. He’s still buying your silence.”
“I can’t help you.” Ted pressed the photo back into Josiah’s hands. “Please leave.”
“I know you’re scared, but she deserves better than this. She loved you. She’d want you to step up and be strong now, Ted.It’s time.” Josiah rapped out the words, every inch the dogged investigator, thirsty for justice. “She’s waited long enough out there, wrapped up in that rug, lying at the bottom of the cold, dark water. She’s been waiting for seven years, Ted – don’t make her wait any longer.”
Ted’s scar was standing out, livid red on his pale skin. “Please… just leave.”
“I can’t do that, Ted. See, I didn’t come here alone.” Josiah put the photo back in his pocket. “There’s someone outside who wants to see you.” He went over to the shop door, tapped on it, and beckoned Alex in. “You can say no to me if you like, but I’d like to hear you say it to him.”
Alex stepped out of the duck and walked slowly towards the shop.
“Who is it? Who is that?” Ted asked hoarsely, trying to see over Josiah’s broad shoulders.
“You know who it is. You gave him this photo when you gave him this mission. You tasked him with bringing Solange’s killer to justice, and that’s precisely what he’s trying to do. He just needs your help.”
Alex pushed open the door, stepped cautiously in, and then stopped. He stood, frozen to the spot, as if he couldn’t believe who was in front of him. Ted looked equally dazed. Josiah watched them both warily, aware of the tension in the small shop, prepared to throw himself between them if need be. Then, suddenly, Ted vaulted over the counter and charged towards Alex. Josiah was about to reach for his stun gun when Ted scooped Alex up, pulled him close, and wrapped him in a big bear hug.
“Alex? Oh shit… I can’t believe it’s you, after all these years. Alex. Alex!”
Alex buried his head in Ted’s shoulder and flung his arms around him, and they clung on to each other.
“When was the last time you saw each other?” Josiah asked.
“The day I gave him that photo,” Ted said, finally releasing Alex and looking him up and down in disbelief. “Shit – you look as pretty now as you did back then. How the fuck do you do that, Alex?”
“Well, I kept my hair – that helps.” Alex grinned, reaching up to rub Ted’s balding head.
“Still the same cheeky bastard then,” Ted said, grinning back delightedly. “Looks like Tyler didn’t manage to beat that out of you, though not for want of trying.” His grin faded. “How are you here, Alex? Where’s Tyler? What the hell is happening?”
“I don’t belong to Tyler anymore. Don’t you watch the news, Ted? I’m plastered all over it at the moment.”
“Nah. There’s never anything good in the news. I only watch the racing.” Ted grinned. “Sometimes, I catch stuff passing on the screen, but I’ve been busy lately. Shop was flooded again last week, so I’ve been picking up dead rats and cleaning out the stock – trying to save what I can. Been packing up the decent stuff into boxes and chucking the rest.” He gestured at the boxes piled up behind the counter.
“We need to talk,” Alex said, gazing at him searchingly.
Ted gave a tight nod. “Yeah, I reckon we do.” He locked the shop entrance, then beckoned them through the door behind the counter. “C’mon, through here, and bring the big fella with you.”
The back room was cold and damp. Ted turned on a small electric fire and warmed his hands in front of it. “Want a cuppa?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” Josiah said firmly. It was a kind offer, but this man clearly had too little to share. He was used to the juxtaposition between extreme poverty and those like himself, lucky enough to have access to tech and comfort, but all thesame, it was striking. He hadn’t forgotten his upbringing in the Quarterlands, which was several steps below that even of Ted and his army shop.
Alex sat down on the floor beside the fire. There was only one chair, shabby and hard-backed. Josiah took it. “Tyler offered to buy you a place, and you asked for this?” Alex asked, looking at the peeling walls.
“Always wanted an army shop,” Ted said with a shrug. “Growing up, I always thought I’d be made up if I had an army shop. Used to hang out at the one close to where I lived – it was a lifeline for me and my mum and sister. So, when Tyler said he’d rent me a place, this is what I chose.”
“You could have named your price with what you know about him.”
“Nah.” Ted shook his head vehemently. “You know how he operates – carrot and stick. He was prepared to give me this, but he made it clear that if I pushed for too much, he’d go after my family.”
Josiah glanced around – there was a curtain at the far end of the room that was pulled halfway open, and he could see a couple of old mattresses slung on the floor beyond. This was the entirety of Ted’s living space.
The place was sparsely furnished, with threadbare cushions on the floor next to the fire, a rickety wooden table in the centre, and a battered old brown dresser propped up against the wall. There was an old-fashioned screen in the corner with a large crack across the glass, held together with tape.
“Mum died last year,” Ted said, “and my sister found some no-good bloke to shack up with up north a couple of years ago.”
