Page 56 of The House Guest

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 cults, and she confirmed this group exists.’

‘What journalist?’

‘Her name’s Wanda Brooks.’

‘Uh-huh. And you know what this cult is called?’

‘No. Nobody does.’

‘Or where they’re based?’

‘No.’

He folded his arms. Was he smirking? ‘Do you know anything about them at all, other than that they make people successful?’

‘Not ... really.’

He laughed. ‘Adam, you’re a nice guy. That’s obvious. But you’re wasting my fucking time.’

‘But—’

‘Shut up. Maybe the police in England can waste their time investigating fairy stories, but this is New York City. I just caught a killer, a man who shot one of my friends. I need to process the asshole and then I’ve got to go home and take a—’

‘It’s not a fairy story.’

‘Don’t interrupt me. I believe you when you say Eden exists. I don’t think you’d lie to me about that. But a recruiter for a cult? Sweet Jesus. All that happened was that your girlfriend got blind drunk, overslept, got fired, and now she’s holed up somewhere with her new friend. As for someone trying to run you down ... You drive on the wrong side of the road over in England, don’t you? You were probably looking the wrong way when you stepped out.’

‘But there have been two crimes at one address in one week,’ I said. ‘Surely that can’t be a coincidence.’

‘No. There’s been one crime. The murder of my friend. And the asshole who did it is already behind bars.’

He turned and walked away.

‘You’re wrong,’ I called.

He ignored me, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 24

McCarren Park was already busy, with bathers lining up for the pool, children in the playground and joggers running around the perimeter. I sat on a bench and watched the entrance to the building I’d seen Mets go into. It had only been yesterday, but so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that it felt like much more. At the same time, today was the fifth since I’d last seen Ruth, and the world – my world, at least – seemed like a very different place.

Sitting on the bench, I thought over what I knew so far. There wasn’t much.

I needed to know if Mets had seen Eden since that day at the pool. If she had said anything that would help me find her.

After thirty minutes he hadn’t appeared, and – fed up of waiting – I crossed the street and pressed a random buzzer on the building. No one answered so I pressed another. This time, a sleepy-sounding man answered.

‘UPS. I got a parcel for apartment twenty-three,’ I said, attempting an American accent.

To my surprise, he buzzed me in.

As I went in, an elderly lady came down the stairs, struggling with a large bag. I rushed up to help her.

‘Thank you,’ she said as I put the bag down by the exit. She studied me with sharp eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Just moved in?’

I smiled. Rather than inventing an elaborate lie about him being a friend, I decided to take a gamble. ‘I’m actually looking for someone. I think he might be in danger, and I need to warn him.’

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