Daniel da Silva

He’s been talking to Layla Mead; his reaction made that perfectly clear. Is it possible he knows who she really is? He was clearly trying to hide any connection to her, is that because he knows something? Or is it just because he wouldn’t want that information getting back to his wife, who’s taking care of their new baby while Daniel has been – presumably – talking inappropriately to another woman online? I got the sense last year that this isn’t out of character for Daniel.

And another observation, we now know three people Layla Mead has been talking to: Jamie, Adam Clark and Daniel da Silva. And here’s the slightly strange thing: all three of these men are in the 29-to-recently-30 range (well, not Jamie, but that’s what his profile originally said). And they all look vaguely similar: white, with brownish hair. Is this a coincidence or is there something to this?

The Farmhouse

Jamie went there on Friday night. Well at least, he was just outside. And clearly the place isn’t as abandoned as we thought. We need to find out who goes there, and why. Whether they are connected to Jamie’s disappearance.

Stake-out tonight. I’m picking Ravi up just before midnight, meeting Connor and Cara there. I’ve just got to wait for Mum and Dad to fall asleep first. I parked my car down the road and told them I’d left it at school, so they won’t hear me when I go. Need to remember to avoid the third stair down – that’s the creaky one.

Twenty-Six

Connor was already there when they pulled up, his eyes alive and glowing in the full beam of Pip’s headlights. They were on Old Farm Road, right before the turning on to Sycamore. Ravi handed her the rucksack, his hand lingering over hers, and then they climbed out of the car.

‘Hey,’ Pip whispered to Connor. The midnight wind danced through her hair, throwing it across her face. ‘Did you get out OK?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Don’t think my mum was asleep, I could hear her sniffing. But she didn’t hear me.’

‘Where’s Cara?’ Pip said, eyeing her car parked thirty feet up the road.

‘She’s just inside the car, on the phone to her sister,’ Connor said. ‘Naomi must have noticed she’d snuck out. I don’t think Cara was trying to be that quiet on her way out because, in her words, “Both my grandparents are practically deaf”.’

‘Ah, I see.’

Ravi came to stand beside Pip, a shield between her and the biting wind.

‘Have you seen the comments?’ Connor said, his voice hardening. Was he angry? It was almost too dark to tell.

‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘Why?’

‘It’s been, like, three hours since you released the episode and a theory on Reddit has already gone viral.’

‘Which one?’

‘They think my dad killed Jamie.’ Yes, he was definitely angry, a sharp edge to his voice as he shot it towards her. ‘They’re saying he took the knife from our house and followed Jamie down Wyvil Road. Killed him, cleaned and dumped the knife and hid his body temporarily. That he was still out when I got home around midnight, because I didn’t “actually see” my dad when I got in. And then he was absent at the weekend because he was out disposing of Jamie’s body properly. Motive: my dad hates Jamie because he’s “such a fucking disappointment”.’

‘I told you not to read the comments,’ Pip said, calmly.

‘It’s hard not to when people are accusing my dad of being a fucking murderer. He didn’t do anything to Jamie. He wouldn’t!’

‘I’ve never said he did,’ Pip lowered her voice, hoping Connor would follow suit.

‘Well, it’s your podcast they’re commenting on. Where do you think they got those ideas?’

‘You asked me to do this, Connor. You accepted the risks that came with it.’ She felt the dead of night pressing in around them. ‘All I’ve done is present the facts.’

‘Well the facts have nothing to do with my dad. If anyone’s lying, it’s Nat da Silva. Not him.’

‘OK.’ Pip held up her hands. ‘I’m not arguing with you. All I’m trying to do is find Jamie, OK? That’s all I’m doing.’ Ahead, Cara had just stepped out of her car, a silent hand raised in greeting as she walked over.

But Connor hadn’t noticed. ‘Yeah I know.’ He also didn’t notice Pip raising her eyebrows at him in warning. ‘But finding Jamie has nothing to do with my dad.’

‘Con—’ Ravi began.

‘No, my dad is not a killer!’ Connor said, and Cara was standing right there behind him.

Her eyes clouded over and her mouth stiffened, open around an unsaid word. Finally Connor noticed her, too late, itching his nose to fill the uncomfortable silence with something. Ravi suddenly became keenly interested in the stars overhead and Pip stuttered, scrambling for what to say. But it was only a few seconds until the smile flickered back into Cara’s face, a strain in it that only Pip would notice.

‘Can’t relate,’ she said offhandedly, with an over-performed shrug. ‘Don’t we have a stake-out to do? Or are we gonna stand here chit-chatting like lost lemons?’

A saying she’d picked up in recent weeks from her grandma. And an easy way out of this awkwardness. Pip grabbed it and nodded. ‘Yeah, let’s go.’ It was best for all involved to gloss over those last thirty seconds like they’d never happened.

Connor walked stiffly beside her as they turned down the gravel road, the abandoned farmhouse facing them across the grass. And there was something else here, something Pip hadn’t expected. A car pulled up roughly off the road, close to the building.

‘Is someone here?’ she said.

The question was answered for her just a few seconds later as a white beam of light flashed behind the grimy windows of the farmhouse. Someone was inside, with a torch.

‘What’s the play?’ Ravi said to her. ‘The indirect or direct approach?’

‘What’s the difference?’ Connor asked, his normal voice returned to him.

‘Indirect is stay out here, hidden, wait to see who it is when they leave,’ Ravi explained. ‘Direct is, well, march the hell inside now and see who it is, have a little chit-chat. I’d lean towards a hider myself, but we’ve got an avid marcher here, so . . .’

‘Direct,’ Pip said decisively, as Ravi well knew she would. ‘Time isn’t on our side. Come on. Quietly,’ she added, because the direct approach didn’t necessarily mean giving up the element of surprise.

They traipsed towards the house together, steps falling in time.

‘Are we squad goals?’ Ravi whispered to Pip. Cara heard and snorted.

‘I said quietly. That means no jokes and no pig snorts.’ Which was exactly how each of them reacted to nervous energy.

Pip was the first to reach the open door, the silvery, spectral light of the moon on the walls of the hallway, like it was lighting the way for them, guiding them towards the living room. Pip took one step inside and paused as a guffaw rang out up ahead. There was more than one person. And from their choral laughter, it sounded like two guys and a girl. They sounded young, and possibly high, holding on to the laughter long after they should.