The boy looked at Ellie’s tablet, then shook his head and didn’t say a thing. Because he realized she had a voice analyser, she assumed. She switched the analyser off, and then showed him it was off. She didn’t need it now, particularly. Not now she knew he was hiding something. If he was happier talking without it, if he was worried about recorded, or tricked, or whatever it was, then the analyser could be off. She didn’t mind.
“Well?” she said, but he still didn’t speak.
Ellie looked at him for a moment, and decided she was impatient enough she was willing to be rough. She looked at the boy, and thought for a moment, and decided belonging to some kind of marginal youth culture probably made him more accustomed to being attacked himself, but probably also more protective of his friends.
He was probably more likely to cooperate if she hurt someone else, she decided, so she bent the arm of the girl she was holding until the girl winced.
“Hey,” the boy said. He struggled a little, but Sameh held him.
Ellie twisted again, and the girl made a little sob and said, “Please…”
“Shit,” the boy said, looking scared. “Stop that. Leave her alone.”
“Tell me about the kid,” Ellie said.
“We don’t know him. We just talked to him once.”
“Where?” Ellie said.
The boy looked towards the cafe he’d just left.
“There?” Ellie said, and he nodded.
“On his own?” Ellie said. She kept her pressure on the girl she was holding’s arm, so the girl sobbed at little.
The boy nodded again. Ellie looked at him, thinking. He looked scared, and nervous. Ellie was fairly sure he was telling the truth.
“When was this?” Ellie said.
“Last week. Four or five days go.”
“And what was he doing?”
“Nothing. He was doing nothing. Just having food. Being there. Talking to people.”
That felt true as well, Ellie decided. She didn’t bother turning the voice analyser back on to check. “When he left,” she said. “Where did he go?”
The boy shrugged.
“Was he with anyone?” Ellie said.
The boy shook his head.
“On his own?” Ellie said.
The boy nodded.
“Did you notice anything else worth telling me?” Ellie said. Just in case the boy suddenly mentioned a convoy full of mercenaries that had been parked outside, or something.
“Like what?” the boy said. So that hadn’t worked.
“I don’t know,” Ellie said. “Anything that might be useful at all?”
The boy shook his head.
Ellie looked at him, and thought, and decided that was probably all he knew. It wasn’t much, but it was confirmation of a sighting of the missing kid, though, and that was a good start.
“All right,” Ellie said. “So who do I talk to now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Right now I’m your problem,” Ellie said. “Make me someone else’s. Tell who might have seen the kid, or who might know where he is.”
They boy looked at her, and seemed confused, so Ellie gave him a moment to think it through. It would make sense to him in a moment, she knew. It always made sense to people once they thought.
This was how Ellie and Sameh often worked. People might not know exactly the information Ellie needed, but they usually knew who to ask. They knew of someone local who knew useful things, a gossip or drug dealer or local criminal. Ellie and Sameh got that person’s name, and then they left the first person alone. Because once they’d found out who knew the secrets in a given community, they could go and ask that person more direct questions. The trick was knowing who to ask. Finding the person who knew the secrets, finding the actual information-broker, that was always a little complicated. It wasn’t something you could see very easily as an outsider to a place. You needed to be told by someone inside. Ellie needed a hint, a place to start, that was all. And once she had a hint, then she had all the time in the world. She could keep on visiting new people, and asking new questions. If the first person whose name she was given didn’t tell her anything useful, she would just ask that person for a second name, and ask that person for a third, and keep getting suggestions, and asking different people, until she eventually found one who could help her.
It was all quite beautifully simple. All she needed was a place to start.