The Whisper Man

by Alex North

‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I had the most extraordinary dream last night.’ Pete forced a smile. ‘Did you? Jesus, Frank. I’m not sure I want to know.’ ‘Oh no, you do.’ Carter settled back, then laughed to himself. ‘You really do. Because the boy was there, you see? The Smith boy. At first, as I’m dreaming, I’m not sure it’s him, because all those little bastards are the same, aren’t they? Any one of them will do. Plus his top is all pulled up over his face so I can’t see it properly, which is the way I like it. But it’s him. Because you see, I remember what he was wearing, right?’ Blue jogging bottoms. Little black polo shirt. Pete didn’t say anything. ‘And someone’s crying,’ Carter said. ‘But it isn’t him. For one thing, he’s long past the crying stage by now; that’s all done with. And the sound’s coming from off to one side anyway. So I turn my head, and I spot them both there – the mother and father. They’ve seen what I’ve done to their boy and they’re sobbing – all their hopes and dreams, and look what I’ve gone and done.’ He frowned. ‘What are their names?’ Again, Pete didn’t reply. ‘Miranda and Alan.’ Carter nodded to himself. ‘I remember now. They were in court that time, weren’t they? You sat with them.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Right. So, Miranda and Alan are crying these big fat tears, and they’re looking at me. Tell us where he is. They’re begging me, you see? It’s a bit pathetic, but all that does is remind me of you, and I think to myself, Peter wants to know that too, and he mig...

All the buildup for Frank Carter (quiet text) leading up to this high-tempo moment for payoff.