Stephen Booth – Lost River (страница 11)

On the first floor of the Nields’ house, he found a galleried landing, and counted the doors to five bedrooms. One door stood open, and when he glanced in he saw a desk, laptop, bookshelves, a small filing cabinet. Two of the others had small ceramic name plaques on them. He knocked on the door bearing Alex’s name in Gothic lettering, and got a muffled ‘yeah’. He took that as an invitation to enter.

The boy was sitting at a desk in front of a PC screen, his legs curled round the seat of his chair. On the screen, Cooper saw a graphic representation of a medieval castle with individual buildings inside its walls – a barracks, a stable, a granary and warehouse.

‘What is it you’re playing?’

‘War Tribe. It’s a morpeg.’

‘Oh, okay.’

Alex snorted, as if he was used to adults just pretending they understood what he was saying. But Cooper thought he might have a bit of an advantage.

‘An MMORPG,’ he said. ‘A Massive Multi-player Online Role-Playing Game.’

‘Mm. Yeah.’

‘They’re usually programmed in PHP, aren’t they? What browser are you using?’

‘Safari.’

‘That’s good.’

Alex gave him a sly sidelong look. Cooper decided it was the moment to shut up. It was best not to push his luck too far. The boy would open up, if he wanted to.

Cooper noticed he was using a War Tribe mouse mat with a screen shot from the game.

Hanging on the side of the wardrobe was a white T-shirt with the slogan Cranny Up, Noob!

‘Where did you get the mouse mat?’

‘Uh, they have a Café Press website. You can get all kinds of stuff there.’

‘Right.’

He felt like adding ‘cool’. But it might, or might not, be the wrong expression this month.

Down one side of the screen was an inventory of resources – iron, wood, wheat – and a list of the troops available. He saw that this particular castle contained three thousand axemen and a thousand mounted knights.

‘Are you online a lot?’

‘You have to be, to build up your cities and watch out for attacks. Anyway, if you’re offline too long you go yellow, and you get kicked from your tribe.’

‘Right. And that would be a bad thing.’

‘Of course. You’ve got to be in a tribe.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Anyway, I’m not online as much as the big players. Some of the guys play on their mobiles,’ said Alex.

‘Oh, okay. But not you?’

‘My phone is too old. It’s rubbish.’

‘Maybe your dad will buy you a new one.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘So what’s your log-in name?’

Alex narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re not going to ask me for my password, are you? That’s wrong. Besides, it’s illegal.’

‘Illegal?’

‘In the game. You can get banned for sharing your password.’

‘Why?’

‘People try to bend the rules all the time. They try anything to get an advantage. Even blackmail.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘Oh, yeah. Big players threaten to catapult your cities unless you give them resources.’

‘A protection racket.’

‘That’s illegal too, though.’

‘Well, I don’t want to know your password. I only wondered what you call yourself.’

‘I’m Smoke Lord.’

‘Really? But you don’t smoke, do you?’

‘What, cigarettes? Of course not. It means your cities will be smoking ruins after I’ve attacked them.’

‘With your catapults?’

A lock of dark hair fell over his face as he turned to stare at the screen again.

‘I’m a Gaul,’ he said. ‘I have fire catapults.’

‘And attacking people and setting fire to their cities isn’t illegal?’

‘Don’t be stupid. It’s the whole point of the game. It’s called War Tribe. It’s a war game.’

‘Yes, that was a stupid question,’ admitted Cooper. ‘I think I must be out of my depth.’

‘I guess so.’

Cooper stood up. ‘Do your parents not mind you playing on the computer all the time?’

Alex snorted. ‘They keep a check on me, if that’s what you mean. They’ve got a lock on it. Parental controls. And while I’m at school, Mum comes into my room and checks my browser history, to see what sites I’ve been looking at. Can you believe that?’

‘Mum likes to be the one in control, does she?’

‘Too true. You ought to see her at meal times.’

Cooper could sense the boy starting to close up. He decided it wasn’t the best time to ask Alex about the photographs he’d taken in Dovedale. He left the teenager to his game and went back downstairs.

‘Thank you, Mr and Mrs Nield. I think I’ve bothered you enough. I’m sorry to have intruded.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Dawn. ‘It helps to talk, to have things to do. You’ve got to keep busy at a time like this. There’s no point in turning inwards.’

Cooper could see that she was the sort of woman who would put her energies into organizing things, into organizing anyone who came within her orbit. But the danger was that the grief would hit her later – perhaps at the funeral, or in the long, dreadful weeks to come. He searched for something to say that wouldn’t sound too trite.

‘Well, be thankful that you still have your oldest child.’

‘What?’ she said.

‘Alex.’

‘Oh. Yes.’

There was an awkward moment when they looked at each other in embarrassed silence, neither having any idea what to say.

Cooper knew that he’d been taking advantage of his position with the Nields. They would probably have reacted quite differently to a police officer who didn’t happen to be the man who’d tried to save their daughter’s life. They wouldn’t have talked so readily, been willing to answer those questions all over again without suspicion. But he’d pushed their gratitude as far as he could. It was time for him to leave.

But Mrs Nield touched his arm as he paused on the door step.