Page 105 of The Memory Wood

I’m flooded by memories, so intense they pummel me flat. I hear my brother’s voice, begging for help. And I hear Gretel’s voice too.

If only I could return to the way things were. Back at Meunierfields, I had a purpose: bring comfort to those who wake beneath the Memory Wood; remember them once they’ve gone. Here, I have no purpose at all. Wandering through the house, I find Ben in the living room and collapse into an armchair.

‘OK, sport?’ he asks, and I nod, even though it’s not true.

He’s fiddling with his phone, so I ask if I can play chess. He doesn’t have the app Gretel mentioned, but he downloads one that’s similar. When I see the board, all set up, the chaos in my head fades. Ben shows me how to control the pieces with my finger.

I hunch forward, all my attention on the screen. After a moment’s uncertainty, I take my first move: queen pawn to D4. To my delight, black responds with a pawn to D5. This time, I don’t hesitate, answering with a pawn to C4. Gretel didn’t teach me many openings, but she taught me this one. It’s called the Queen’s Gambit. Black can choose to accept the gambit, or decline.

I wait, barely able to breathe.

Then black accepts.

Mairéad

I

Monday night, news of Kyle Buchanan’s identity leaks out. By Tuesday morning, his face – along with his younger brother’s – is appearing on every news outlet. The photo is the one circulated in 1999 after their abduction. In it, the boys grin for the camera, grown-up teeth too big for their young mouths.

The media is screaming for an updated picture of Kyle, but they won’t get one; nor will they receive any update on the status of Elijah, mainly because nobody – not those at the safe house, nor anyone at the multiple Meunierfields crime scenes – has any information on his fate. Mairéad suspects he’s long dead, but she has no evidence.

Distressingly, the news story has completely shifted away from Elissa. All the attention is on Kyle and his twenty-year confinement. Back at Meunierfields, news helicopters have captured footage of the many forensic tents dotted about the Memory Wood. On TV, retired police officers earn decent beer money providing grim commentaries and forecasts. Mairéad can only wonder how Lena Mirzoyan is feeling, her daughter’s disappearance relegatedto a sideshow in a media circus focused on the sensational and the grotesque.

The feeding frenzy over the brothers has also diminished the impact of the Oswestry CCTV footage released at the last media briefing. Mairéad had hoped that, by now, the stranger who collected Kyle Buchanan from the police station would be leading every newspaper’s front page. But although he features in the coverage, he’s given far less prominence than the boys.

While Drs Ortiz and Beckett continue to treat Kyle, Mairéad’s investigation team – now coordinating with nine different forces across England and Wales – pores over old files. The Buchanan boys were snatched from a Swindon playground in 1999 while their mother, Karen Wolk, was chatting to a group of mums. No communication was ever received from the brothers’ abductor. It’s one of the reasons their case was never linked to those that followed. At the time, of course, there were no camera phones, no laptop edit suites, no YouTube.

Back in ’99, Wiltshire Police’s investigation initially focused on Glenn Buchanan, the boys’ father, but although detectives took apart his entire life, they found nothing to implicate him. Nor did the man have any obvious motive; he’d split with Karen shortly after Elijah’s birth, but there’d been no animosity. The boys retained their father’s surname, which was why Mairéad hadn’t even made the connection until Kyle mentioned his brother’s name – at the time of their abduction, she’d only just applied to become a police officer. No one can explain why, during his long confinement, Kyle Buchanan decided to become Kyle North. According to Drs Beckett and Ortiz, it’s likely just one more facet of the complex fantasy he developed in order to survive.

Sometimes, Kyle indicates a passing awareness of his trueage, but mostly he remains in a state of regression. At the safe house, he studiously avoids mirrors, anything that might lead him to contemplate his reflection. Mairéad knows he’s the key to unlocking this case, but so far she’s learned little of use. And on Tuesday morning, after a night plagued by nightmares, Kyle clams up completely.

That afternoon at Hindlip Hall, the West Mercia HQ in Worcester, she summons Dr Beckett, who suspects that a key pillar of his patient’s delusion has collapsed. ‘He was asking for his mother,’ he says.

In 2004, five years after her sons went missing, Karen Wolk took her own life. ‘Did you tell him?’

‘At this stage, I think it’s unwise.’

‘There’s a chance Kyle already knows,’ Mairéad points out. ‘Her death was widely reported. His abductor could’ve told him. Maybe that’s what triggered the psychosis.’ She winces, realizing she’s playing amateur psychiatrist. ‘Sorry.’

Beckett waves away her apology. ‘I’ve placed him on a low dose of clozapine. It’s an antipsychotic and it should help with his anxiety. But at this stage I must tell you – I’m deeply concerned about his mental health. Until he stabilizes, I can’t allow any more questions about the case.’

Mairéad groans. Beckett’s only doing his job, buthewon’t be the one facing Lena Mirzoyan, or the chief constable, or a baying press pack. ‘Has he said anything?’ she asks. ‘Anything at all that might lead us to Elissa?’

‘Not a jot.’

‘Do you think he knows what happened? Do you think he was involved?’

Frustrated, Beckett rolls his neck. ‘I want to help, I really do. But any answer I gave you would be a complete stab in the dark.’

‘Right now, I’d take even that.’

The doctor watches her a moment. She endures his gaze,wondering what he sees. Finally, his expression softens. ‘If you’re asking me if I think Kyle’s deliberately holding things back, then I’d say, yes, I think he is. But that’s the hunch of someone who’s bet on Southampton to win the Premiership every season since 2012.’

Mairéad takes a breath, sighs it out. ‘I know you’ve got his well-being at heart. But Elissa Mirzoyan’s a victim too.’

‘I understand that. But Kyle Buchanan’s capacity to separate fantasy from reality, even once we’re through this current crisis, isn’t going to improve any time soon. The moment he feels any pressure or expectation, he’s highly likely to fabricate something, just to win approval. He might not even realize he’s doing it.’

She closes her eyes. Thinks, immediately, of the desolate void at the heart of her. Senses that boulder of grief about to come crashing down.

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