Chapter 2

Max pulled his laptop towards him and typed 'Midtown' into the Google News search bar. A few articles came up, most of them related to school soccer competition results, but one headline caught his eye – STRANGE LIGHTS IN SCHOOL LIBRARY. He clicked on the link and scanned the article quickly, taking in the details. It was from a couple of weeks ago. Some local kid had been hanging around the school late at night (apparently he'd left his bike chain, but Max thought he was more likely to have had a can of spray paint in that backpack) and had been startled by golden flashes from the window of the library. The kid had tried to look through the window, but the lights disappeared through the far door and weren't seen again.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Max clicked the back button to search for other articles that might point him in the direction of the Danvers' sisters. The only other one that he found that was relevant was a very short one from two months ago. A woman had miraculously been saved from being run down by a car that had veered off the road when a stranger pushed her out of harm's way. The press had been unable to identify the man, and the woman insisted that he had been on the other side of the road when it happened. "It was impossible," the news article quoted. "I swear he was walking on the sidewalk over there and then suddenly he was pushing me out of the way. And then he just disappeared!" It wasn't a lot to go on, but it was start.

Max sat in contemplative silence for a few moments more and then began typing again. The incident with the woman had occurred before the article about the odd lights and Max figured Alex and the DEO would investigate things in chronological order so he decided to find the woman first. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd discover something useful before the Danvers even got there. They'd have to accept his help then.

The news article had named the woman as Helena Dodd. It was an easy matter to discover her address between the phone book and the internet. Even without Max's hacking abilities, personal details were not so private in this age of technology and digital takeover. It took Max mere minutes to determine that Helena Dodd, 47, lived at number 7 Bishop Street, West Midtown. As if Midtown was big enough to have a West.

Satisfied, Max shut down the laptop and stuffed it into its bag. There was no time to waste since Alex was probably already on her way. He raced out of the café and hailed a taxi, directing the driver to his destination. The driver, a portly black man, attempted to rouse Max into conversation by remarking that he hadn't seen him around before.

'You from outta town?'

'Yeah,' Max replied disinterestedly. 'National City.'

'The big smoke, huh? Never been there myself. What's it like?'

'Big.'

'No kiddin'.'

The driver gave up after that. Clearly his passenger was some snobby city slicker that had no time for people that weren't kitted up in expensive suits. So be it.

Max watched impatiently out the window as the houses crawled by, hoping that he would get there on time. He had to admit that the little town had character. Each house was of a different style with flourishing gardens and porches containing everything from bikes to wind chimes to mud-caked football boots. In the city, every building was pretty much the same. Monotonous. Not that it mattered to him; his penthouse was superb and unmatched in the whole of National City. He didn't even spend that much time there.

Broken out of his reverie by the car screeching to a stop outside number seven, the driver jabbed a finger at the meter and held out his hand wordlessly. Max held back a snort. Petty. He handed over the fare without fuss and climbed out of the cab, only just managing to shut the door before it zoomed off.

Max rolled up his sleeves and looked up, taking in the home of his first lead. It was unremarkable, a white weatherboard affair with a patchy lawn. A pot of wilting roses hung from the porch light next to the front door, but that was about the only feature that made it look as if someone lived there.

He tapped his fingers against his leg absently. Should he go and knock on the door? What if Alex was already inside, interrogating the woman? Maybe he'd beaten them to it, in which case he'd have the upper hand. Information to hang over Alex's head, something to convince her to let him join in the hunt. Yes, that was a good plan. He set his teeth, marched up to the door and knocked confidently.

30 seconds passed in silence and Max was afraid that there was no one home, but then the shuffling of feet echoed from behind the door and it opened a crack to reveal a tall, busty woman with dark hair, greying at the roots. She was in jeans and a cardigan and appeared slightly flustered as if she'd just been interrupted.

'Hello,' Max began with his best smile. 'My name's Marcus Gregson. I'm with the National City news crew investigating out of town incidents to give National City a wider coverage. Are you Helena Dodd by any chance?'

The woman had listened in silence, peering at Max and falling for his charm. Max had to suppress an eye roll at how easy it was. Even the fake name had made him cringe.

'Yes, that's me,' Helena replied cautiously. 'What can I do for you Mr Gregson?'

'Please, call me Marcus,' Max drawled, voice like honey. 'Well Helena, I was wondering if you would be willing to tell me about your near miss a couple of months ago. I read about it online and it seems to me the whole thing is still a mystery! Nothing sells like mysteries in National City, so if you don't mind, I'd love to publish your story in our newspaper. What do you say?'

Helena considered it for a moment. 'Even though it was two months ago?' She asked sceptically.

'It will be the first in a new series of unsolved incidents.'

'Well…'

'It's completely up to you, Helena.' Max held up his hands innocently, encouraging her to think it was her choice when really he knew a small town woman like her wouldn't shun the publicity. Not when her comments in the original article had been so enthusiastic.

'Well, alright then. Do you need to ask me some more questions? Come in, I'll put the kettle on.'

She opened the door to allow Max inside and he followed her down the hall and into the kitchen where she gestured for him to sit down at the table. She bustled about making tea which Max drank politely if not reluctantly and he settled into his new reporter guise.

'So Helena, if you could start from the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.'

'Well, I was coming home from having lunch with friends at the Firth Street café, you know the one that does those excellent quiches? Well, I was coming home from there and I was just walking along on the sidewalk when this car coming towards me started jerking left and right and then it veered right off the road and onto the footpath. It was coming straight towards me, I was so shocked, I couldn't even move, as you might imagine it was quite frightening. I just froze right up!'

Max nodded understandingly, placing a finger across his lips. Helena was enjoying this retelling that much he was sure of.

'Anyway, this wasn't in the main street, it happened in Pan Avenue so the road is quite narrow, but that still doesn't explain how that man got to me so quickly.'

'What man?'

'Oh sorry dear, I jumped ahead there. Well, the car was almost on me and I thought for sure that was it, that I was going to die right there and then, but suddenly I got knocked out of the way and wound up face first on the lawn of one of the houses. The car missed me and kept going, they didn't even stop. How awful is that? Probably drunk young hooligans. I know it was a man who pushed me because he'd been walking on the other side of the street at the same time as me so of course I'd noticed him and when I got up he was nowhere to be seen and neither was my saviour!'

She crossed her arms with a satisfied smile as if daring Max to question that it couldn't possibly have happened that way, that she must have imagined things and maybe she'd just been lucky and had tripped or dived out of the way but didn't remember it because of the shock.

Instead he asked, 'Could you describe the man?'

'Oh,' Helena started, surprised, 'well I suppose he was old. Maybe not elderly, but old. Grey hair. Um…' she screwed up her face to think, 'he had a cardigan on. Yes, that's right because I remember thinking to myself that it was such a dull colour. Beige. Why do all old people wear beige?'

'And you didn't know this man? You hadn't seen him around before?'

'Well, the more I think of it the more I think I had seen him before. I can't think where though. He was carrying a satchel so it's possible he was walking home from work. Maybe he lives in Pan Avenue too! Oh, I hadn't thought of that!'

Again Max had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 'About what time did the incident occur?'

'About four in the afternoon. Yes, it would've been just after four.'

Max nodded once and rose from his chair. He'd been here long enough. Time to leave before Alex found him here. 'Well thank you Helena, you've been most helpful.'

'Is that all? Don't you want to know about all the things the police asked me? I spent two whole hours at the station and they asked me most of the things you just did.'

'Thank you Helena, but that won't be necessary. You've told a great story already and I'm sure my boss will love it.'

'Well alright then. Thank you for coming Marcus, it's all very exciting isn't it? Here, I'll show you out.'

Max left very quickly after that and caught another taxi back to his motel apartment. It was a loose thread that he'd chosen to pull on, but he hoped that the details might be enough. He booted up his laptop and began studying maps of Midtown, noting down the places near Pan Avenue where an elderly gentleman might work. He did a search on the residents of Midtown, but that was slightly more difficult. Small towns just don't have the data that big cities do. In the city, everything you do is recorded somewhere.

After an hour of researching, he realised that the answer had been in front of him all along. Most of the shops near Pan Avenue were either cafes or women's fashion related, neither of which was likely to hire an old man. There were, however, two schools in the vicinity, within walking distance. The incident had occurred just after four so that meant school would definitely have finished. And then the light bulb went off in Max's brain. Midtown High was the closest school to Pan Avenue. Its school uniform colour was beige and grey. And it was also the school that the first strange news article had been about, the lights in the library. The DEO had sent Alex here for this? It was too easy. Max smiled.