Читаем The Hunter полностью

Rushborough, when he opens the door, looks taken aback to see her. “My goodness,” he says. “Theresa, isn’t it? Your father’s not here, I’m afraid. He very kindly took me to see a few sights, and then dropped me back here. He’ll be sorry to have missed you.”

Trey says, “Got something to show you.”

“Oh,” Rushborough says, after a second. He steps back from the door. “In that case, do come in. You’re welcome to bring your friend.”

Trey doesn’t like this. She meant to show him there on the doorstep. It seems to her that Rushborough should be warier of a kid he doesn’t know. Her dad said Rushborough is an innocent who thinks all of Ardnakelty is leprechauns and maidens dancing at the crossroads, but Rushborough is no innocent.

The sitting room is very clean and very bare, just a few bits of pine furniture arranged in unnatural spots and a painting of flowers on the wall. It smells like no one has ever lived there. Rushborough’s coat, hanging on a coat tree in the corner, looks faked.

“Won’t you have a seat?” Rushborough asks, gesturing to an armchair. Trey sits, measuring the distance to the door. He arranges himself on the flowery sofa and cocks his head at her attentively, his hands clasped between his knees. “Now. What can I do for you?”

Trey wants to be out of there. She doesn’t like the way his teeth are too little and even, or the disconnect between his pleasant voice and the expert way he watches her, like she’s an animal he’s deciding whether to buy. She says, “No one hasta know it was me that told you.”

“My goodness,” Rushborough says, his eyebrows going up. “How mysterious. Of course: my lips are sealed.”

Trey says, “You’re going out tomorrow to look for gold in the river.”

“Oh, your father let you in on the secret?” Rushborough smiles. “I am, yes. I’m not getting my hopes up too high, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if we found some? Is that what you have to show me? Have you found a bit of gold of your own?”

“Nah,” Trey says. She unzips her hoodie, takes the camera out of its case, pulls up the video, and hands it over.

Rushborough gives her a look that’s somewhere between amused and quizzical. As he watches, it fades off his face till there’s nothing there at all.

“That’s gold,” Trey says. All her instincts are pulling towards silence, but she makes herself say it. “That they’re putting in the river. For you to find.”

“Yes,” Rushborough says. “I see that.”

Trey can feel his mind working. He watches the video to the end.

“Well,” he says, with his eyes still on the display. “Well well well. This is unexpected.”

Trey says nothing. She stays ready for any sudden move.

Rushborough glances up. “Is this your camera? Or do you have to give it back to someone?”

“Gotta give it back,” Trey says.

“And do you have this backed up anywhere?”

“Nah,” Trey says. “Don’t have a computer.”

“In the cloud?”

Trey gives him a blank look. “Dunno about the cloud.”

“Well,” Rushborough says again. “I do appreciate you looking out for me. It’s very kind of you.” He taps his front teeth with a fingernail. “I think I need to have a conversation with your father,” he says. “Don’t you?”

Trey shrugs.

“Oh, definitely. I’ll give him a ring and ask him to pop round now.”

“I’ve to go,” Trey says. She gets up and holds out her hand for the camera, but Rushborough doesn’t move.

“I need to show this to your father,” he explains. “Are you afraid that he’ll be angry? Don’t worry. I won’t let him do anything to you. I’m delighted that you brought me this.”

“I said. No one hasta know it was me. Just say someone told you.”

“Well, he’s hardly going to spread this around,” Rushborough points out reasonably. He pulls a phone out of his pocket and dials, keeping his eyes on Trey. “This won’t take long,” he tells her. “We’ll clear everything up in no time. Johnny? We’ve got a bit of a situation. Your lovely daughter is here, and she’s brought me something that you ought to see. When can you be here?…Marvelous. See you then.”

He puts the phone away. “He’ll just be a few minutes,” he says, smiling at Trey. He sits back on the sofa and flicks through the other photos on the camera, taking his time over each one. “Did you take all of these? They’re very good. This one wouldn’t look out of place in a gallery.” He holds up a photo Cal took of the rooks in their oak tree.

Trey says nothing. She stays standing. Banjo, getting restless, nudges her knee with his nose and makes the ghost of a whine; she puts a hand on his head to quiet him. Something is wrong. She wants to make a run for the door, but she can’t leave without Cal’s camera. Rushborough keeps scrolling, examining the photos with interest, giving one of them a little smile every now and then. The windows are black and she feels the distances outside them, the spread and the silence of the fields.

Her dad is there faster than he should be. The car speeds up the drive with a rip of spraying gravel. “There we are,” Rushborough says, getting up to open the door.