Page 81 of The House Guest

There were steps going up and down, but I had an image in my head from movies I’d seen, of people escaping across New York rooftops, so I went up. I didn’t look back, just continued to climb as fast as I could. The iron steps were slippery from a rain shower that morning, and I almost lost my footing, desperately grabbing the railing.

I reached the next platform and glanced down to see my pursuer coming out through the window.

There was one more platform above me, on the top floor of the building, then a final staircase that led up to the roof. As I reached the last platform, he said my name, just loud enough for me to hear. I froze for a second, looking straight into my pursuer’s eyes as he raised the gun again. He had a clear shot.

‘There’s nowhere to go,’ he said, coming up the steps towards me. At the same time, I looked up at the roof. It stood alone, the distance between this building and the next too far to jump. I had made a mistake going upwards. I was trapped.

He came closer, up the steps towards me, raising the gun one last time.

He didn’t shoot.

‘Put your hands where I can see them,’ he said.

I raised my arms, palms towards him.

‘Come back down,’ he said. ‘Slowly.’

I went back down the steps, hands still held up, treading carefully so I didn’t slip. He kept the gun trained on me. When we reached the platform beside the open window, he gestured for me to go through first, then followed, pointing the gun at me all the time.

‘Where’s Maguire?’ he said.

I hesitated. If I lied and told him Callum was close, he might decide he needed to kill me on the spot, then lie in wait for Callum.

‘Manhattan,’ I said.

‘Doing what?’

‘I don’t know.’

He stepped closer, jabbing the gun in my direction. ‘Don’t bullshit me.’

I felt like I had no choice but to tell the truth. ‘He was watching Mona at the hotel. But I don’t know where he is now.’

I couldn’t tell if he believed me.

‘How did you know we were helping each other?’ I said.

He rolled his eyes. ‘I saw him push you out of the way of my car.’

So much was going through my head that I didn’t stop to question how he knew who Callum was and what he looked like. If asked, I probably would have guessed that Sinead must have told him. Shown the cult members a photo of her dad.

‘And how did you find us?’ I asked.

He smirked. ‘You’re amateurs, Adam. You brought Krugman’s phone back here, didn’t you?’

I realised what he meant. ‘Oh shit. There’s a tracker inside it?’

‘Yep. And not the usual Find My iPhone shit. A proper tracker.’

I guessed that was something they did with all their phones. Was that why Eden had been so happy to give Ruth her spare phone? So she could keep track of her? Had the cult been responsible for the phone theft in the park too?

Of course they had. How many steps behind them would I always be?

‘So which one of you shot Krugman?’ he asked. ‘Maguire, I’m guessing.’

I didn’t contradict him.

He made a clucking sound with his mouth. ‘We’re going to make arrangements so Krugman gets a proper funeral. We look after our own.’

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