Free Blind School by John Matthews Page A

quizzical, but spent a moment dutifully studying Marston. Ryan was the first to answer.
    ‘No. I don't see anything.’
    A brunette girl at the front echoed: ‘Me neither.’
    As Ellis's eyes darted anxiously between them, Jessica and another teen mumbled: ‘No . Nothing’.
    Ellis slid the door shut and headed towards Marston.
    Marston looked hesitantly over his shoulder as Ellis approached, as if hoping Ellis was heading to someone else, or perhaps checking out escape routes.
    Ellis paced determinedly the last ten yards, faced-off in front of him.
    ‘What the hell are you doing watching my son?’
    ‘What? Your son? I... I wasn't. I...’
    Ellis grabbed him by the lapels. ‘Don't fucking give me that. I saw you staring at him when I was here the other day, and you're doing the same now!’
    ‘It's not your son I'm looking at – it's mine,’ Marston stumbled. ‘ Timmy . It... it's the only chance I get to see him.’
    Ellis searched Marston’s eyes for the lie, but all he could see was sincerity; now tinged with fear that he might be believed. Ellis eased his grip.
    ‘Oh... I see.’
    ‘I can't go near the house, and I'm not meant to meet with him either. Restraining order, you see.’ Marston attempted a weak smile. ‘So I wait for him to walk home – then I go the other way and we meet up round the corner for coffee. Otherwise I'd never see him.’
    Ellis nodded, closing his eyes for a second in penance.
    ‘I understand. I'm sorry.’
    He patted Marston's shoulder in consolation as he turned away – all those eyes still on him: his wife, his son and Timmy, the Blind School pupils.
    He knew he'd stepped over the line, starting to see demons at every turn: his own paranoia suddenly reflected in those stares aimed at him.

THIRTEEN
     
    Bruno Tieschen and Alex Culverton agreed on Tieschen’s downtown cigar club for their meeting. Rich rosewood panelling sectioned off each private ‘smoking chamber’, and both the wood and the overstuffed leather armchairs were redolent with the smell of best Havana , despite the club’s powerful air-conditioning sucking the smoke from the rooms.
    ‘Nice to see a man who appreciates a good Cuban,’ Teischen commented, blowing his first smoke plumes from a freshly lit cigar.
       ‘One good thing about these cigar clubs, I suppose. The privacy.’
    ‘You should come here more often. You get all these business pussies only here because their wives won't let them smoke at home – but it's still a great atmosphere. You get your own personal smoking locker with bag of tricks and...’
    Teischen broke off, picking up on the coolness in Alex's eyes. And, beyond the impatience, something else in them too, strangely unnerving. Teischen waved his cigar hand.  
    ‘Okay, Alex. You mentioned on the phone a fresh problem. Tell me?’
    ‘The air-crash investigation might not sideline John as much as I'd
    hoped. Or at least not quickly enough for our plans.’
    ‘So what are you suggesting?’
    ‘I'm not sure it would be right for me to 'suggest' anything. After all, he's my brother.’
    Teischen smiled slowly, picking up on Alex's sub-text. ‘I didn't know you were the type to believe in karma?’
    Alex gently blew out a cigar plume. ‘Let us say it's more a matter of burying any possible traces.’
    Teischen lapsed into thought as he sucked harder on his cigar.
    ‘I too would have to be cautious. Bury any possible traces.’
    Alex nodded. He'd got Teischen heading where he wanted.
    ‘Yes, I daresay you would.’
    The next time Ryan and Jessica found themselves together was two nights later. A ‘search and identification’ patrol headed by Josh Eskovitz.
    Their black van was parked under a highway overpass, shadows heavy in the last dusk light. Fifty yards ahead, a group of tramps shuffled to keep warm by a makeshift oil-can brazier. Ryan turned to Jessica.
    ‘My favourite the other day was the goat-man with slimy scales. He had a cute twinkle in his eyes. I don't think