4.

I told Jackson about the hearing; how our lives were under the spotlight, every detail examined and replayed on the news. Everything we said or didn't say, did or didn't do. My 'violence' at Kelly's camp, my seeker records, my healer records. Alex's Healer's case notes from the drowning and subsequent drawn out recovery. Even Bhask got dragged in somehow, as the only other example of my mothering abilities. And of course, Comforter Constant Green's crucial evidence from the first time she had tried to take Ayasha, in the hospital. I didn't remember being so frightening. But through her words I sounded like a demon.

A mobile rang stridently, breaking my train of thought.

"Jackson." The conversation was short and one sided.

"I understand," he said and closed the phone, leaning forward again. Apparently, he had what he wanted now, and was moving to bring things to a head. "That's all very touching I'm sure, but let's get to the heart of the matter. I'll read you the judge's findings from the hearing:

His degree of mental incapacity is very mild and I find no reason why Alex Flynt should be judged an incompetent parent. The parents have demonstrated progress with the child that has not been repeatable under the proposed institutional conditions, and thus I see no reason why Ayasha should not be returned to the custody of Alex Flynt.

Whilst her dedication to her child is not in question, the charges of breach of code of conduct against Hungry Flame still stand, and will be processed at a later date."

"You think that gives me motive for attempted murder?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "What was your response?"

"I was stunned I guess. I thought it would all be over when we got Ayasha back. I was pretty gutted that I was still on trial."

"Because of Comforter Constant Green."

"I suppose. It was her allegations that were at the heart of the matter, yes."

"And you tried to speak to her afterwards?"

"Yes, I… I did try. But she didn't want to speak to me, and Melts Blue Ice held me back, and…" It had been chaos. Everyone was in uproar. The news cameras were in everybody's faces. I just wanted my baby back. I couldn't understand that despite everything, I was still a liability. I lost Alex, I lost Bhask in the melee, and when I finally got free they were still nowhere to be seen.

I found Bhask was sitting on the steps of the courthouse, silhouetted against the nectarine light of the setting sun, staring at something in his hands. A Seeker issue Beretta.

"Bhaskar!" My eyes flew to the safety. It was on.

He looked at me as if from a distance.

"It was in her car. Unlocked. I didn't break in. I just thought… It's not fair. She put us through hell. She tried to take Yashie away from us. The judge proved that was wrong. Why is it still wrong for you to have stood up to her?"

It was Constant Green's gun? That was even worse. That was so much worse. "You are going to give that back right now."

But her car was gone.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," I muttered. I needed to get the gun back to her with as little fuss as possible. Preferably before she realized it was missing. We'd have to get her address. We'd have to go to her house, hope the car was there, and put it back.

We drove as fast as we dared to Seeker headquarters and I found her on the database, skimming her file for current address. Night was falling as we made our way through the suburbs to her house. The houses stood cheek by jowl with no room for garages, so everyone parked on the street. I had to drop Bhask off in front of her car while I went to hunt for a park.

But when I hurried back, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Bhaskar!" I hissed, my eyes darting into every shadow.

"Mum!" I heard distantly, and saw him waving to me from a window. Her window. I tried to wave him back, but his waves grew increasingly insistent and I ran over, sweat prickling on my neck. He pointed shakily through the window I and followed his frozen gaze.

"Oh shit."

Comforter Constant Green was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, the ceiling lights casting subdued reflections in it and the surrounding hardwood floors. The window and the wall had been hit with blood as well. A gunshot wound to the head. I heaved at the window but it was locked. I ran for the front door and shoved it in, my fingers reaching for a pulse. There was none. I dialed emergency and started chest compressions immediately, her blood soaking into the knees of my pants.

"Bhask, get out of here. Take the car, go straight to the airport, get on the first plane out of the country, then go find Dorsey, ok?"

"I didn't do it, Mum-"

"I know, but they don't. Go!"

I kept up the CPR as I left a message on Melts Blue Ice's phone, as her blood crept up the fabric of my pants and my knees slipped on the smeared polished floors, until the Healers and the Seekers arrived and pulled me away, charged me, seized my clothes as evidence, and took me into custody.

"Well that's an interesting perspective, but the facts of the matter tell a different story," Jackson said breezily, "Your son has left the country, his fingerprints are on the weapon in question, and it has been demonstrated that you are a very devoted mother. I think Bhaskar shot that woman, and you went to the scene of the crime and covered up for him."

"Neither of us could have done it. He was with me all the time until I had to park. She had been shot at least half an hour before that. There was no time."

Jackson leaned back with a satisfied glint in his eye.

"So Bhaskar and yourself were together during the entire time period in question."

"Yes."

He wiggled his pen in his fingers, watching me with suppressed delight. I had the feeling he was waiting for me to fall into his trap. Or maybe I had fallen in already and he was waiting for me to hit the bottom.

"So neither of you can be an alibi for Alex Flynt."

I hit the bottom.

He went on.

"Alex Flynt, mentally damaged, highly stressed, former soldier. He not only knows how to fire weapons to kill people, he has done it in the past. Legally. Usually. He has the motivation, the opportunity, the ability. And he has no alibi."

"Alex…?" I whispered, seeing it from a Seeker's perspective and my own at the same time, dizzyingly, "You have no proof… that's all circumstantial evidence-"

"All the proof leads to Bhaskar."

Or me.

"You can see what a tricky situation that puts us in. But were Alex to be convicted, I'm sure he would get off very lightly considering his mental situation. Bhaskar, on the other hand... he has no extenuating circumstances.

"Would you like to tell me where Bhaskar went?"

"No." I would not like to. I would not like to at all. Jackson's eyes bored into me, judging the time to be right.

"Would you like to confess to the murder of Comforter Constant Green?"

I bit my lip. Maybe, I thought. It was preferable to Bhask or Alex being convicted. Ayasha needed Alex, he was the one with custody. I already had a pending conviction. And I couldn't let Bhask take the fall.

But he had not put all his cards on the table.

"Comforter Constant Green was not shot by a Beretta. She was shot by a Glock. You have a Glock, don't you, Hungry Flame?"

I nodded reluctantly, but there was no use trying to hide it.

"Would Alex have access to that gun?"

Of course. So would Bhask. I said nothing.

"Can you tell me where you keep that gun?"

I told him precisely.

"We have a warrant to search your house. If that gun is not there, we are going to charge Alex Flynt with murder."

"Murder? Not attempted murder?"

"She died twenty minutes ago. That makes it murder."

Shiiiit.

"No." My voice came out barely louder than a whisper, but completely determined.

"I'm sorry?"

"You can't arrest Alex. He didn't do it." And Ayasha needs him.

"Then who do you suggest I arrest?"

Despite my fears, I could only say the truth.

"I don't know," I whispered.

A frown pulled at his cheeks. Apparently I was being uncooperative. He watched me in silence, tapping his pen on the table, til there was a knock on the door. The man who stuck his head in beckoned him out, and I was alone at last to think things through. As a Seeker, not as a suspect.

I know we didn't do it. And suicide made no sense. Why would a Soul go to the trouble of shooting themselves when they could easily kill themselves without the violence and the mess. Besides, there had been no gun in her hand. Unless it had slipped under a couch or something. I hadn't looked…

When they came back into the room I started talking before they had a chance to say a word.

"Check the car's GPS. It will back up what I've told you. Neither Bhask nor I could have done it. I don't know where Alex is but, I assume he would have gone to get Ayasha, then gone home. Ask at the Children's Ward. Ask the neighbours." Then I remembered it must be about 2 in the morning.

"I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."

"Well, maybe you do. There's a whole angle you're missing here. What is a Comforter doing with Seeker-issue guns? With guns at all? She's a Soul! And surely the neighbours must have heard the shot?"

"These are not details of the investigation I can disclose to you at this point in time. Rest assured we are doing our jobs. I think we've covered enough tonight, Montgomery here will take you back to the cells, we'll talk again in the morning."

"Wait, was Alex at home? Ayasha?"

They looked at each other before replying.

"Yes."

"Can I see them? Can I talk to them?"

A thoughtful look seeped into Jackson's features and he flipped open his mobile, dialed a number.

"I've got Hungry Flame here, wants a word with Alex Flynt." He handed it to me.

"Alex?"

"What the hell is going on, Flame?"

"Have you got Ayasha?"

"Of course! Where are you? Where's Bhask? Why is nobody answering their bloody phones-" These were not questions I wanted to answer in front of Jackson.

"I'm fine. Bhask's fine. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I'll, um, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Flame!" he shouted, but I hung up. I handed Jackson back his phone and he waited a moment to see if I had anything more to say. Like a full confession. I kept my face stony. He swept out of the room and left me to Montgomery. He smiled almost apologetically and led me to the cells.

***

The cell bed lay directly in front of the door. I was not happy with the feng shui, so I pulled the blanket off and curled up in the furthest corner, wrapping the thick material around my wrists so they could feel that the handcuffs were not there. I would need some sleep before interviewing began again tomorrow, but something chewed at the edges of my mind. A Glock and a Beretta, a Glock and a Beretta... something about those two guns… I flicked the hair out my face, and it hit the side of my head stiffly, still dipped in dried blood. Random thoughts, loose ends, started flashing at me. Something came back to me from her file: a history of mental instability. She had had antagonistic encounters before. And the house was a big one. Too big, surely, for a single Comforter. I was sure she couldn't have any children. No one could be so heartless about Ayasha who had children of their own. Someone else must live at that address too. Maybe someone with access to guns… A Seeker. A workmate of Jackson's. That would explain the guns, the relentless insistence on pinning it on my family…

I was in deeper than I thought.