“Gives a whole new meaning to ‘Someone getting bottled,’ doesn’t it? I apologise, I apologise,” Baron said. “Morgue humour. Defence mechanism. You’ve had a horrible shock, I do know. Believe me.”
“What’s going on?” Billy said. Baron said nothing. “I saw Dane,” Billy said.
“Is that right?” Baron said slowly. “Really now?”
“I was coming home. Last night. On a bus. He was on there. He must’ve been following me. Unless he could’ve just … no. He must’ve been there deliberately. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find out where I live …”
“Alright. Alright, now, listen …”
“I feel like I’m going mad,” Billy said. “Even before that … Before what’s in the basement. I’ve been feeling like I’m being followed. I didn’t say anything because, it’s stupid, you know …” The wind shook the windows abruptly. “I tell you I’m losing it … What happened downstairs? Did Dane do that?”
“Let me think for a second, Mr. Harrow,” Baron said.
“When I was in with you, why was there a psychology professor there? Vardy. That’s what he does. I looked him up. Come on, Baron, don’t look like that—all it took was a bit of an online poke about. I could tell he wasn’t a cop.”
“Is that so? You can ask him yourself in a bit.”
“Was he there because … Is it that you think I’m mad, Baron?” There was another silence. “Is that what you think’s going on with me? Because, Jesus …” Billy breathed out shakily. “Right at the moment, I think you have a point.”
“No,” said Baron. “None of us think you’re losing it. Rather the opposite.” He glanced at his watch. This time, when he arrived, Vardy shook Billy’s hand. He had one of those unpleasant too-hard grips. He was carrying a briefcase.
“Did you have a look?” Baron said.
“It’s pretty much as you’d expect,” Vardy said.
“What?” Billy shouted. “What you’d expect? What about it did you expect, exactly?”
“We’ll discuss that,” Vardy said. “We’ll discuss that, Billy. Now wait. I gather you saw Dane Parnell.”
Billy ran his fingers through his hair. Vardy seemed too large for the chair he was in: he squeezed his shoulders together, as if to avoid spilling himself. He and Baron looked at each other, sharing another unspoken moment.
“Right then,” said Baron. “Let’s have another go. Patrick Vardy, Billy Harrow, curator. Billy Harrow, Patrick Vardy. Professor of psychology at Central London University. As I gather you know.”
“Yeah, like I say,” Billy muttered. “My Google-fu is strong.”
“I owe you an apology, Mr. Harrow,” Baron said. “I sort of assumed you’d be as half-arsed as most people. Wouldn’t even occur to them to look up our names.”
“So how much do you know about us?” Vardy said. “About me?”
“You’re a psych.” Billy shrugged. “You work with the cops. So I figure … You’re a profiler, aren’t you? Like Cracker? Like Silence of the Lambs?” Vardy smiled, a bit. “That poor sod shoved into the bottle, downstairs,” Billy said. “He’s not the first. Is that it? That’s it, isn’t it. You’re looking for someone … You’re looking for Dane. Dane’s some kind of serial killer. You’re here to work out what his thing is. And, oh Christ, he wants me, doesn’t he? He’s following me. And it’s something to do with …”
But he stopped. How did any of this make sense of the squid? Baron pursed his lips.
“Not exactly,” said Baron. “It’s not quite right.” He chopped his hands through the air onto the tabletop, organising invisible thoughts.
“Look, Mr. Harrow,” Baron said. “Here’s the thing. Go back a step. Who’d want to steal a giant squid? Never mind how just yet. That’s not important. Right now, focus on why. It seems like you might be able to help us, and we might be able to help you. I’m not saying you’re in danger, but I’m saying that—”
“Oh Christ …”
“Billy Harrow, listen to me. You need to know what’s going on. We’ve talked it over. We’re going to tell you the full story. And this is in confidence. Which this time please keep, thank you. Now, all this is not the sort of thing we normally lay out for people. We think it might help you to know, and to be perfectly frank we think it might help us too.”
“Why does Dane want me?” Billy said.
“I wasn’t on this case originally, as you know. There are certain flags that go up, you might say, under certain circumstances. Certain sorts of crime. The disappearance of your squid. Plus