Page 83 of Fortune's Ashes
‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked.
‘It’s the middle of the night – you don’t have to play host,’ I said. ‘You’re already doing more than anyone should.’ I bit my bottom lip. ‘Do you have Stubman’s phone number?’
He nodded. ‘I do. Would you like it? Or would you like me to call him?’
‘It might be better if you tried,’ I said. ‘He’ll be more likely to answer if he recognises the phone number.’
Max gave a worried smile and picked up his phone from the coffee table, using face recognition to unlock the screen and locate Stubman’s number. I stepped closer to him. It wasn’t lost on me that it took him only a second to find it; it was in his recent contact list. Of course it was. He’d called Stubman several times over the last few days.
He pressed the green call button and both of us waited. I already knew that Stubman wouldn’t answer but Max frowned and waved the phone in my direction. ‘He’s not picking up. He might be asleep.’
I looked doubtful. ‘Sure. Yes. He might be.’
‘Have you tried his flat? He doesn’t live that far away from Supe Squad.’
‘Oh,’ I said innocently. ‘Have you been to his home?’
Max was too smart to be caught out like that. ‘I have,’ he said. He twisted his hands together. ‘I can give you his address.’ He paused. ‘What…’ He paused and swallowed. ‘What’s he done?’
I grimaced. ‘I shouldn’t tell you.’
‘Okay.’ He dipped his head. ‘Okay.’
‘He assaulted me earlier today.’ I let the words tumble out in a rush. ‘He’s the one who set fire to Supe Squad. I think he also tampered with Grace’s car and caused a terrible accident.’ My voice dropped. ‘And he’s killed people. Supes. Three of them.’
Max’s eyes widened. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I think so,’ I whispered.
‘He’s never liked supes,’ Max said. ‘He’s never been very keen on the police, either. I didn’t think he’d ever kill anyone but he can be … violent. When he gets into a rage, he’s a dangerous man. He’s scared me quite a few times.’
Liar. ‘You’ve never mentioned anything like that.’
He fidgeted. ‘I didn’t want to get him into trouble. He’s had a hard life. He’s only trying to get by.’ He looked away. ‘That’s what I thought.’ His head jerked back to mine. ‘Does he know you’re onto him? Does he know you’re here?’
I shook my head. ‘Oh no. He couldn’t possibly know that.’
‘Does anyone know you’re here?’
My stomach flipped but I maintained the same expression. ‘No. I can’t tell anyone where I am or what I’m doing because I’m about to be arrested for murder.’ I added hastily, ‘But I didn’t kill anyone! I think Stubman framed me.’
‘Jesus.’
I licked my lips. ‘Yeah. My whole life is falling apart, Max. The only way I can fix it is if I can find Alistair Stubman and get him to confess. But it has to be soon or it will be too late.’
‘Wow. That’s…’ He shook his head. ‘Wow. I’m so sorry.’ He nodded towards another room. ‘I’ll get a pen and write down his address. Are you sure I can’t get you a drink?’
‘Maybe a cup of tea?’ I asked.
‘Of course. I’ll put the kettle on.’
I smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you, Max.’
He turned on his heel and left me alone. I put my hands in my pockets and wandered over to an oak side table where there was a small potted plant next to a few junk-mail envelopes. The plant was in an odd position to the left of the table with a blank space to the right. The asymmetrical placing was awkward, as if something were missing.
I glanced over my shoulder. The kettle was starting to boil, which would mask any noises I made. I held my breath, silently told my jellybean to stay strong and reached for the little drawer underneath the table top.
I slid it open. When I saw what was in there, I stepped back. I was right; it had been Max all along.
