“Not amusing,” said John with a scowl.
“Yeah,” said Cheryl, moving aside to open up some space between them. “Please don’t say things like that.”
“Sorry.”
Happy yanked the cell door and it made the typical horror movie sound of ‘rusty gate opening.’ It set Cheryl’s nerves on edge. Why was she so jumpy? Everyone here was a little paranoid, admittedly, but their rational selves were winning over — even if only barely. She, on the other hand, felt more and more like freaking out. She kept telling herself it was just the excitement of being in a social situation outside of work, but she felt like she was standing on a beach watching people swim shark-infested waters. She was the only one who could perceive the danger while everyone else flapped about blindly. Desperately, she wanted someone to freak out so that she could join them. She just couldn’t be the first.
They didn’t have to enter the unlocked cell to see what was inside for it was well lit. A large pallet of tiles took up most of the space. Maggie rubbed at her chin thoughtfully when she noticed them, and seemed troubled by something, but the tiles were unremarkable as far as Cheryl could tell.
“Those are Spanish Flag,” said John, gripping the bars while he peered inside.
“Yeah,” said Alfie. “We used to shift a tonne of those back when I first started with the company. What happened to them?”
John shrugged. “We were only making twenty-percent margin, so we changed suppliers. Alscon grew, we demanded better rates elsewhere.”
Monty smirked. “Plus, I sold all the stock of Spanish Flag the supplier had to the Council when they refurbed the town college. They covered half-an-acre in this ugly stuff. Was a massive deal.”
Maggie stopped staring at the tiles and looked at Monty. “Yeah, I remember. I had to go through a dozen different departments before someone at the town hall finally paid the bill. I remember it well because it was right around the time...” She trailed off, glancing at Happy for a split-second, then staring down at the floor. She cleared her throat. “I just remember it.”
Cheryl was confused. “What? Right around the time of what?”
Happy put a hand on Cheryl’s shoulder. “It was right around the time my niece disappeared. Her name was Polly, and she worked in sales.”
“At Alscon?”
“Yes. I talked John into giving her a go. He’d just hired his nephew, Alfie, so I thought hiring my niece would make things fair and square.”
John chuckled. “Polly was a good salesperson. Even gave Monty a run for his money.”
“Beginner’s luck,” said Monty, but meant it lightheartedly. “Polly was a sweetheart. Wish I knew what happened to her.”
“Yeah,” said Alfie, staring glumly at the floor. “Me too.”
Cheryl kept her focus on Happy who seemed at once cheerful and sad as he spoke about his missing niece. She felt bad asking for details, but it was hard to believe without knowing more. “Your niece just disappeared?”
He nodded. “It was after Alscon’s year-end party. We were all staying overnight at this big country manor, the Claybrook Estate. Everyone was drinking too much, and having a good time, but Polly was gone when we prepared to leave the next morning. The police were involved; thought she might have gone for a walk around the grounds and gotten hurt or…” he shrugged, “taken. A search team went out. Rewards were offered. My sister even begged for Polly’s safe return on the evening news, but no one ever found a single clue of her whereabouts. It was like she never existed. Except for the fact I miss her every day.” He tapped the badge on his lapel. NEVER GIVE UP. “That’s why I wear this every now and then, to remind myself to keep hope that one day the truth will come out. My sister deserves closure.”
Cheryl’s stomach turned. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Happy.”
“We all are,” said John. “Polly had a bright future. Probably would’ve been running Alscon by now. I could have retired to Spain.”
Happy waved a hand at them. “Let’s not reopen old wounds. It was two years ago. Two years next month in fact.”
Monty shook his head and tutted. “Has it really been that long?”
“Yes, it has really been that long. Although it still feels like yesterday sometimes.”
Alfie cleared his throat and nodded at the pallet of tiles. “So what’s with these then? Why have they dumped a load of our old stock down here? How did they even get it?”
“It’s missing stock,” said Maggie. “Took me a moment to figure it out, but pallets 6–18 went missing before they ever made it to the construction site. Caused me a right headache at the time. Much like the one I have now.”
Cheryl saw the orange ‘6’ scrawled on the pallet’s middle beam and realised what Maggie was saying. “You’re telling me this pallet was stolen two years ago? And now it’s here?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you!” Maggie looked in pain, like every word out of her mouth sent sparks through her brain. “We mark our pallets with a fluorescent orange marker. This pallet is one of ours. Stolen.”
Alfie loosened his scarf and rubbed his neck. “I’m telling you, man, this is personal. This company knows our ages, our drinking habits, and now this... Not to mention the fact they have the front half of Monty’s old motor down here.”
Leo flinched. “What?”
“That TVR,” said Alfie. He sounded a little hysterical and continued loosening his shirt like he was overheating, despite the chill in the air. “That’s Monty’s TVR. He wrote the stupid thing off less than a month after he got it.”
“I knew I recognised it,” said Leo, his face suddenly lighting up. He pointed at Monty. “You must have had that thing for all of two weeks. I figured you swapped it for the Range Rover. Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t recognise it right away.”
Monty couldn’t look anyone in the eye. In fact, he turned his back on them as he spoke. “Thing was a death trap. They shouldn’t be allowed to sell ‘em. Anyway, that’s not my old car, it’s just the same model. They probably got one at the scrap yard just to mess with me.”
“That’s what I thought at first,” said Alfie, “but not no more. I reckon it’s the exact same one, bruh.”
“It’s a coincidence,” Monty repeated.
“You did write it off though?” asked Leo. He looked towards the sports car, rear half still missing.
Monty shrugged, still not looking at them. “Don’t really remember what happened, but I must have ended up in a spin or something. Tore the back half away but, somehow, I didn’t get a scratch on me. I’m lucky to be alive, bruh, I swear down. You’ll never catch me in a sports car again. Luxury SUVs all the way for Monty Rizwan.”
Leo swallowed a lump in his throat, a bulge rolling down his long neck. “How could they know about the accident? How could they have known you lost the back half? Do they have your insurance records or something?”
Monty shrugged ignorance. “If it’s a joke, I ain’t laffin.”
Alfie rubbed at his stunted hand as if it was hurting him. It was rare he did anything to bring attention to his deformity, which was why it made him appear so vulnerable. “These people are screwing with us,” he said. “I’m telling you. We should have kept our phones. We need help.”