The House Guest - Mark Edwards Page 0,53

unsteady on her feet, as if his cologne was intoxicating. Behind him, Eden stood in the doorway, eyes cast to the floor.

‘I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you, Ruth,’ he said.

Chapter 23

I turned up at the station house at eight the next morning, Wednesday, bursting to tell Krugman everything that had happened. I’d already emailed him the photos of Eden and I imagined he would be keen to talk to me.

I had spent a restless night on Callum’s couch, half convinced an intruder with a gun would come bursting through the door at any minute. I was chilled by what Wanda had said about how no one ever left the nameless cult. Surely that meant that if they tried to recruit someone and that person resisted, or refused, they would be disposed of so they couldn’t reveal the cult’s existence.

What if they were planning to dispose of Ruth?

I’d left the house shortly after seven thirty, before Callum woke up, leaving a note telling him I’d see him later.

I waited for thirty minutes in the reception area of the station house. The officer behind the desk kept looking at me. After a while, she came over.

‘Detective Krugman’s been held up. Do you want to come back in thirty minutes? Go get yourself a decent cup of coffee?’ She aimed a grimace at the vending-machine coffee I was holding.

‘I’m good,’ I said. ‘I’ll wait.’

Forty-five minutes passed and I was about to approach the woman behind the desk when Krugman came out of a side door and strolled over to me. His face was dark with stubble, his shirt was creased and there were sweat patches under his arms. I guessed he’d been up all night.

I stood up, ready to follow him to, I assumed, an interview room, ready to tell him about what Wanda had told us, even though I could picture his disbelief. But he said, ‘You can go.’

‘Sorry?’

‘We caught the bastard who did it. He’s confessed already.’

‘He? I don’t—’

Krugman cut me off. ‘It was a burglary. He breaks in, thinking the house is empty, Jack disturbs him and the guy panics. Two hours later the dumb asshole gets arrested trying to rob somewhere else.’ He shook his head with disgust. ‘You know, I’ve been doing this job a long time but this is the first time I’ve had to deal with the death of one of my friends. Such a goddamn waste.’

‘Wait, you’re saying it had nothing to do with Eden?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’

I couldn’t believe it. A disappearance and a murder within a few days of each other, at the same address?

‘Are you absolutely sure?’

‘The guy confessed to me himself.’

‘But . . .’ I didn’t know what to say.

‘I’ve just been on the phone to Mona, telling her the news,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure if it sunk in.’

‘Where is she?’ I asked.

‘She’s staying at a hotel until the house is, y’know, cleaned up.’

A cop walked past and nodded grimly at Krugman.

‘Anyway, I’ve got to go. I stink.’

‘Wait,’ I said as he turned away. ‘What about Ruth? She’s still missing. What are you going to do about that?’

‘It’s not my department. I told you, if you want to report her missing you need to fill out a form. I can get one of my colleagues to help you.’

‘She’s not just missing,’ I said hurriedly. ‘She’s been taken. And I know you were sceptical about the whole thing, because I heard you and Jack and Mona talking in the garden.’

He raised both eyebrows. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘And maybe I don’t blame you. But I have proof now that I wasn’t making Eden up. I sent you the photos.’

‘Some girl in a bar? Sorry, but that ain’t exactly proof.’

‘What? So you still don’t believe me?’

He went to walk away but I followed him, speaking as fast as I could. ‘Eden’s a recruiter for a cult.’

He gawped at me. ‘A what?’

‘A cult. No one knows their name but they recruit people and . . . make them more successful. I’ve been talking to someone whose daughter was taken by them, and she never came back, because they kill people who won’t join. And they also kill anyone who threatens to expose them. Someone tried to run me down outside McCarren Park.’

To his credit, Krugman didn’t act like I was a raving lunatic. He stood there calmly, letting me talk.

‘The guy who’s helping me, his name’s Callum Maguire, his daughter’s called Sinead Maguire, and I’ve also talked to a journalist, an expert in