A SECRET CHORD

Chapter Ten

Arizona, 1985

Clean at last and dressed in a pair of fresh pyjamas, Adam padded down the corridor, clutching Mr. Boo to his chest with both arms. Mr. Boo was an old black cat; a well-loved toy – the only thing Adam possessed that had never belonged to Charlie. He was the silent recipient of all Adam's whispered secrets but he also had a secret of his own. Beneath his left arm was a hole where the stitches had worn away. Safe in the bedroom, while Charlie was having his bath, Adam had murmured an apology to Mr. Boo and then removed several handfuls of his stuffing, pushing it under the mattress where no one would find it. Then he had poked the red sock through the hole, spreading it out with the blunt end of a pencil until Mr. Boo looked just as he always did. No one would know the difference. No one but Adam.

One thing remained – to sew up the hole. Pausing outside his sister's bedroom, Adam called to her. "Mary? Is it okay… can I come in?"

He didn't expect a reply, and none was forthcoming. Instead, Mary pulled open the door, just a crack and smiled at him with genuine fondness, beckoning him inside. "Thank you," he said politely, and made Mr. Boo nod his head in thanks as well.

Jumping onto Mary's bed, he let the mattress settle before he curled his feet beneath him and stared at his sister in mute appeal.

"What is it, Adam?" Her voice was soft and pleasant. She never raised it; not ever. Adam couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing – but he loved her for her gentle nature. Sitting down beside him, she gave Mr. Boo a tickle beneath his scraggy chin.

Adam pushed at his face from the inside until it wore a look of perfect innocence. He knew that Mary couldn't resist his big blue eyes and he used that knowledge shamelessly. "I need your help. Mr. Boo is leaking."

"Leaking?" Mary smiled. "That sounds serious."

"It is. He needs sur-ger-y."

"An operation?" Taking the cat, she turned him around in her hands until she found the hole. Adam held his breath. "I can do that. Leave him with me, okay?"

"Will you… can you do it now?" His fingers twitched in yearning and his eyes grew even wider. "Please…? You're my favourite sister."

"Adam, I'm your only sister. And I have a mountain of homework to get through before I go to bed. Math. I hate math." Grinning suddenly, she nodded. "You know what? I could take a break - but you'll have to assist me. If I'm the doctor, you're the nurse."

"Nurses are girls," Adam said with horror.

"Nurses are boys as well. Doesn't Mrs Roberts teach you anything?"

He shook his head. "I teach myself. She's boring. Okay, so I'm a boy nurse and you're a girl doctor. What do we need?"

Mary pointed to her bookshelf. "That box over there. My sewing kit… I mean, my surgical instruments. Can you bring it here? I'll prep the patient."

Slithering down from the bed, Adam fetched the box and opened it up. With great care, he selected a needle and a reel of black thread. "Perfect," said the 'doctor'. "Let's begin." Adam squeaked as she pricked Mr. Boo with a pin. "Anaesthetic," she explained. "He won't feel a thing now. He's fast asleep."

"An-aes-thetic," Adam repeated dutifully. "Thank you, Doctor Mary."

Crouching beside her, on the floor, he craned his neck and watched with bated breath as she sewed up the hole, securing the sock for ever. A warm, fuzzy sense of satisfaction crept through his body. His plan had worked. His secret was safe. Mr. Boo would look after the sock and he could hold them both in his arms all night, to keep the Bad Things at bay.

Mary tied a knot and ran the end of the thread back through Mr. Boo to hide it. "Now all we need to do is wake the patient," she smiled. "The operation was a great success."

"Thank you, Mary," Adam said fervently, squeezing the cat in his arms. "Mr. Boo says 'thank you' too."

"I should hope so." Mary's voice was solemn but her eyes were bright. "Now then – would you like to stay a little while? If you're quiet, I mean? I have to get on with my homework but it's nice to have you around."

The compliment was better than candy. "Maybe I can help you?" Adam suggested, wanting to give her something in return. "I like math."

His sister gave a chuckle – and she didn't say 'no'. Encouraged, he rose to his feet and wandered over to her desk, peering at the open book. "Can I try it?"

When Mary didn't reply, he turned back to stare at her – and saw that she was frozen in place on the bed, still clutching the needle between her finger and thumb. A chill ran down his back. She was Listening, he could tell. On her face was a look of dismay. Adam froze like Mary and Listened too.

It started with a Hum, just as it always did. The Hum was a horrible sound; quiet at first but growing louder, like a warning that told you a Bad Thing was on its way. Adam's skin prickled with fear and he started to tremble violently as the Hum swelled into the Voices…

"…house is a pigsty. What have you done all day? Nothing! What kind of mother…"

"…Charles, that isn't true. You're not being fair…"

"… see the boy? His manners are shameful and he's got no pride. I keep saying it; you need to cut the apron strings. Let me take him in hand. I'll teach him a lesson or two about good behaviour. But oh, no, you whine and you pull that face, and like a fool I listen. No longer, Harriet; I'm warning you…"

"…Adam."

"What?"

"His name is Adam. Not 'the boy'. And he's seven years old, Charles… NO!"

The cry of pain ripped through Adam's head. He clapped his hands to his ears, still clutching Mr. Boo, who dangled down beside his face, staring at him with button-eyed sympathy.

No more Voices. Only muffled Sounds, and they were the worst thing of all.

"Come here," Mary whispered. Stiffly, she beckoned to him and he stumbled to the bed. "Stay with me," she begged, and he could see that she was close to tears. Together, they curled up with Mr. Boo tucked in between them. Mary lifted her Walkman from the bedside table and plugged the headphones in carefully, before setting them on Adam's head and clicking the 'play' button. Her escape. She had given him her own escape and now she had nothing. Adam wrapped his arms around her as the tape hissed in his ears and Freddie Mercury began to sing…

"Oh, oh, people of the earth,
listen to the warning,
the seer he said.
Beware the storm that gathers here.
Listen to the wise man…"*

-x0x-

New York City, 2005

"The Pied Piper?" Lindsay frowned at the picture on the screen. "Isn't that a fairy tale? I'm thinking rats… and a river?"

"Actually more of a legend," Adam said. "And a famous poem – by some English guy called Robert Browning. I looked it up." He frowned in concentration, staring at the air to her left as though it held a perfect copy of the information he had found online. "No, wait – you're right, because the brothers Grimm wrote a story about him too. Sorry, Lindsay…" She could see the concern in his eyes; concern for her and her wounded feelings.

"Don't apologise," she told him, folding her arms. "I'm not mad – I'm interested. I didn't know all that. Keep right on sharing, Mister Clever Clogs."

"Oh. Okay; thanks." His shy delight made her blush, and she moved on quickly.

"Why do you think this poem, or legend, or fairy tale - whatever it is – is so important?"

Encouraged by her friendly attitude, he obliged with a smile. "It's a really, really old legend about a town in Germany that's overrun with rats, and this weird guy - the Piper - who comes along and promises to help them, for a price. When he plays his magic tune, the rats come running and they follow him all through the streets, till he drowns them in the river; every single one. He should come to New York, right? For real, I mean. He'd make a fortune." Reaching out to the screen, Adam touched his fingertips to the merry, dancing line. "When the job was done, the people refused to pay. So the Piper played again... and he took their children." Lindsay felt a shiver chasing down her spine at his ominous words. "See the point? He enchanted them, just like the rats. Took them far away and their parents never found them."

She blinked. "What? You think… Ruth's been enchanted? Adam, this is the real world, not some fairy tale - however grim." He winced at the pun as she continued. "Things like that don't happen here."

"Yes, they do." Adam was bolder now; stubborn in his certainty. "Con men, paedophiles, magicians, hypnotists... Movie stars." Lindsay spotted a twinkle in his eye and knew that he had thrown in the last example as a little joke of his own. "They can make you believe things are real. Crazy things. Isn't that a kind of enchantment? I think this 'Pied Piper' is Ruth's friend, or so she believes. Not the poem-guy," he added, just in case she had any more doubts about his sanity. "More like someone who identifies with him. It's a mask he's wearing. I think he… or, you know, maybe she… told Ruth exactly what she wanted to hear. And I think he's enticed her away."

"Okay – say you're right. How did he manage it?"

Adam frowned. "I haven't worked that out yet. I'm sorry…"

"Stop being sorry, for goodness' sake! Adam, it's a good theory. A very good theory, actually… You should keep working on it. And tell Mac as soon as you can. He ought to know this."

"Um…" Adam stared through the glass at Mac's empty office. Trying not to laugh at his worried expression, Lindsay turned her attention back to the screen instead.

"Have you checked her emails? Social media? You know what teenagers are like these days. Half their life is spent online."

Adam's eyes narrowed, creasing at the sides. He ran his hand through his hair. "You think I should have done that already?"

Lindsay felt a wave of sympathy. Who didn't want to be perfect on their first day? A sudden, comical notion popped into her head, making her grin as she tried to picture the twitchy lab tech face to face with a live tiger; Mac Taylor watching his every move. No way, she thought. I win… "Follow your instincts," she told him kindly. "You're doing great. Just make sure you're thorough. Check and double check; triple, if you have to. Speaking of which…" She pulled a face. "I think I'd better go back to Ruth's stories and read them again with your Piper in mind. You can do the same with the ones on her laptop, right?"

"Look for a mountain, too," he suggested, bringing up the passage on the screen. "Or any kind of place that feels like Utopia for a lonely girl. If we find enough details in her stories, we might be able to work out where she thought he was going to take her."

"Utopia?" Not a word she would have expected him to use. Mentally, she revised her opinion of this strange young man, chiding herself for making assumptions about his character.

He wriggled in his seat, understanding the tone of her query. "I like words. Sorry to give you more work, Lindsay."

There it was again. Lindsay's hands were on her hips by now in a gesture that - far too belatedly - reminded her of her mother. "That's three times. Look, Adam, never apologise for doing your job. What you've found is a set of keys that could unlock Ruth's secret, and we need to try them all. Besides, if I've learned anything about this place in the last week or two, it's how much they value teamwork. Really value it, I mean. This isn't a one-man - or one-woman - show." She fixed her gaze upon him to make sure he was paying attention. "Whatever you come up with, let me know, okay? The crazier, the better. Sometimes, 'outside the box' is right where we need to be."

Walking out of the AV lab, Lindsay could feel his blue eyes following her in return. Did I go too far? Was I too condescending? She was all too aware of her own rookie status. Adam seemed like a sweet guy – and now look who's worried about people's feelings...

With a sigh, she shrugged off her doubts and headed back to the Layout room. Condescending or not, her words had been truthful – she really did believe that Adam was on the right track and she couldn't wait to test his theory for herself.

-x0x-

It took Mac twenty minutes to get from the elevator to his office. Every single time he took a step in the right direction, someone else accosted him, with files, or questions, or forms to sign. Granted, he couldn't fault them for that and he knew it. He'd been out of the lab for several hours, and yes, he had made it perfectly clear in the past that any important information needed to pass through him. But, really, did it have to happen all at once? As he scrawled his name for the umpteenth time on some official waste of paper, he caught sight of that new lab tech, Ross, watching him nervously from the AV lab. Wait - was he scowling again? His own reflection in the glass was faint, but he could see how his expression might be construed as a little irate. Carefully, he smoothed his features into something more approachable, just as Stella rounded the corner and came towards him, looking as vibrant as ever. One day, Mac decided, he would have to ask her how she did that.

"What's with the face?" Stella asked, as the young girl from Personnel – dammit, what was her name? – scuttled away with her clipboard and her prize; a sheaf of forms that finally bore his signature.

Instead of a verbal answer, Mac gave Stella a look which told her everything she needed to know. "How's your day been?" he challenged.

"Took me forever to tie up the loose ends on the Hanson case but I'm done now, thank goodness. You want my help, you got it, okay?"

"Then help me get into my office," he growled under his breath as yet another white-coat changed direction and headed towards him.

Stella laughed and led the way. "Mac," she sang out loudly, "I need to speak with you in private." Simple but effective. The lab tech sighed and took the hint, disappearing into the Trace lab as Mac reached his destination at last and sank down into his chair with a sigh of relief. Staring at him, Stella shook her head.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Lindsay this morning. Take a break."

"Soon," he promised. "There's one more thing I need to do." Yet again, his attention was caught by the sight of Adam Ross peering over the row of screens, and he frowned. Two more things, then. Clearly, the new guy needed a lecture on privacy. Startled by Mac's angry expression, the blue eyes vanished, as did the raised eyebrows and the top of Adam's head.

"Are you trying to scare him out of his wits?" Stella asked with some amusement, having watched the whole exchange. "Some kind of first day hazing I don't know about?"

Mac shrugged. "He's the one who keeps staring."

"Probably because he wants to tell you something and he's waiting for the right opportunity. Which is never going to come if you keep glaring at him like that. Or me," she added, when his gaze swivelled towards her mercilessly. "It's a valid hypothesis, Mac. Cut the poor guy some slack. Go and talk to him."

Seconds ago, he had planned to do just that – in a manner of speaking. Why did being 'told' always make him feel so defensive? "In time," he said. Setting down an evidence bag, he slid it across his desk and Stella peered at the contents with interest.

"A cell phone?"

"A lead. I wish I could say I was hopeful… so far, this is the closest we've come to the man who took Ruth Eggar."

"Then you've got a suspect. Other than her father?"

"We've got the Clean-Up Guy. He's down at the precinct with Flack." Mac gave a tight smile that faded quickly. "As for Eggar – he's not blameless in all of this; not by any means. He made Ruth's home a place of danger, when it should have been a haven. That's what made her vulnerable. Show me the evidence that proves the extent of his brutality and I'll lock him away with pleasure. Let him have a taste of his own medicine."

"Bully?" Stella said with an expression of distaste.

"The worst. If you'd seen his family…"

Silence filled the room. Mac longed to break it but he couldn't find the words. Frustration rendered him mute and he rose to his feet, avoiding Stella's eyes. "If you want to help," he said at last, "find Lindsay. She has all the evidence from Eggar's apartment." Nail the bastard, he pleaded with his eyes, and Stella seemed to understand. With a brief nod, she left the room. Mac stood in the doorway for a moment, breathing deeply to calm himself, before crossing to the AV lab.

Ironically, Adam failed to see him coming. His eyes were fixed on the screen in front of him, and his fingers were flying across the keyboard.

"Playing games?" Mac said, in a stern voice that was guaranteed to make the young man jump. "On the Crime Lab system?"

As he had predicted, Adam's head jerked up in fright. The chair shot out from under him and rolled halfway across the room as he scrambled to his feet. "Mac… Boss… Oh! Detective Taylor, there you are… Um, this is… well, it really isn't what it looks like, okay…." His tone was breathless and, for a moment, Mac feared that Adam might actually begin to hyperventilate, right there in the middle of the AV lab. Folding his arms, he waited as the young man fought for control of his voice. It was a struggle, but Adam prevailed – somehow. "Please let me explain," he begged, pressing his palms together.

"Adam, I'm a reasonable man." Mac tried to evade the guilt he felt at having been the cause of such an overwhelming reaction. "Tell me what you're up to and if there's a logical explanation, I'll be the first to apologise for doubting you."

"Okay. Thank you, Sir… Boss. Detective…"

"Mac," he said, with all the patience he could muster. "Call me Mac." It was plain and far less easy to mangle.

Adam nodded. His gaze was fixed on the floor, making Mac feel quite uncomfortable. "Go on," the detective prompted carefully. "I'm listening." Both men were keenly aware that their exchange was in full view. Lab techs passing by on the other side of the glass kept their own heads lowered and their eyes averted. Mac clenched his jaw as he caught sight of the tell-tale flush rising up Adam's neck. Dammit. Not the way to end your first day, he thought with unexpected pity for the young man's plight. Had he made a mistake after all and hired someone who was emotionally unfit to cope with the strain of working at the lab? Nerves like these were a big problem. They could seriously hamper Adam's ability to do his job…

But now the man was speaking, and suddenly Mac found that he was hanging on every hurried word.

"This game, okay; I wasn't playing it – I wouldn't do that, not here. It's the only thing on Ruth's computer that I hadn't already looked at – emails were a bust; nothing there, which is odd for a teenager, right? - and I've never heard of it before so I thought, you know, while I was waiting for you to finish talking with Detective Bona… Bonasera, I'd check it out. And now here you are, I guess, so I'll tell you what I… Look, Boss… um, Mac. This is what I've found and I think it could be important." Moving from the main desk to a small laptop nearby, he ran his finger over the pad and a picture popped up on the screen: Ruth's background image.

Mac took a sharp, involuntary breath.

"The Pied Piper of Hamelin," he said.

Adam was thrilled. "You know it," he said, full of admiration. Moving closer, he studied Mac shrewdly, his own face eager, though his body language still carried echoes of his former distress. "Then… you get it, don't you? Mac, this character means such a lot to Ruth. He's there in her stories, all over the place – we checked; not always the Piper by name, okay, but you can tell it's him. We think – Lindsay and me – we think…"

"This is her secret 'friend'. The one who took her."

"Wait - you agree with us? Just like that?" Adam's eyes were wide with astonishment, and a hint of something that looked like pride.

Mac shook his head slightly. "I don't agree, Adam; I know. You've hit the nail right on the head – you and Lindsay." Smiling, he waved the bag containing Volker's cell phone. "Leave the game. I've got another job for you…"

-x0x-

A/N: * The album in Mary's Walkman is 'A Night at the Opera' by Queen and the track is 'The Prophet's Song'.

I loved all your comments about the last chapter – thank you! Over the next two weeks, I'll try to maintain my usual updating schedule – roughly a week, sooner if I can – but it's the Easter Holidays and that's a busy time for me at work, so please forgive any delays if they do occur. (Believe me, I'd rather be writing… hehehe.)

Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know. And thanks for all the 'follows' too.