Eye of the Storm (21 page)

Scar strode forward and entered the open square. He looked strong and powerful. Nipper could see instantly that his opponent would have the advantage of weight and reach, but Nipper remained
calm and focused as he assessed his enemy. This was no soft city raptor that knew nothing of the hunt. He was lined in many places with the scars of combat. Nipper had no doubt that this raptor had
done little but fight all his life. Would he have areas of weakness? Maybe the legs with the line of puncture scars? He did not seem to favour one or the other, but given their nature, Nipper found
it difficult to believe Scar had not suffered lasting effects from those injuries.

Stepping forward into the square, Nipper moved to face off against his opponent. Scar’s eyes were shining with anticipation and he was baring his teeth in a broad grin. The air was alive
with the chants of the raptor crowd, urging the combatants forward as the gigantic holographic projection overhead displayed them on a scale that made them appear like titans. Nipper knew better
than to be distracted by such things. He ignored Scar’s face and blanked out the tumultuous noise and the shifting images overhead, concentrating instead on a point in the centre of his
enemy’s chest. At a spacing of about five paces, they began to circle, each assessing the other for signs of weakness.

From the top of the steps, the Voice of the Imperium barked a single word.

‘Begin!’

Niamh was surprised when her Aunt Aggie pulled up outside a nondescript building. Was this really the place? It looked more like a social services centre or a doctor’s
surgery. She gave her aunt a quizzical look.

‘This is the address I was given,’ Agatha confirmed, unfolding a sheet of paper from her pocket to double-check. She nodded. ‘Yes. This is it. Come along. Let’s not be
late.’

She climbed out of the car and Niamh followed suit. Her aunt looked particularly chic today in a designer outfit that had no doubt been chosen especially to make her look the very image of
prosperity and respectability. From the moment Niamh had seen Agatha in the hallway, she had felt positively underdressed. Agatha had raised her eyebrows at her choice: jeans, ankle boots, a
T-shirt and a short leather jacket; but had not said anything. Adjusting her jacket, Niamh had thought for a moment about changing, but decided against it. She knew she did not look particularly
smart, but at least she was comfortable. What image was she portraying with her choice of clothes? She had never consciously considered using her clothing to shape people’s perceptions of her
before, but looking at her aunt, it was easy to see that it worked.

Agatha blipped the car with the remote locking device on her key and led Niamh up to the door. A smart young woman met them there. For an instant, Niamh was tempted to turn and run. Gritting her
teeth, she fought down the panic she felt welling inside.

‘Agatha Barrington?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘And this must be Niamh.’

The woman’s smile as she held out a hand for Niamh to shake was warm and friendly. Was this a front? Would her dark side emerge once they were inside? She was petite and smartly dressed
with her shoulder-length blonde hair backcombed and held neatly in place with a black hairband.

‘Please, do come inside. Niamh, I’m sure you’re probably nervous about today, but there really isn’t any reason to be scared. I’m Detective Constable Kathryn White.
I know I don’t look much like a police officer dressed like this, but I can assure you I am. Here, let me show you around.’

Niamh followed her aunt through the front door and into a corridor with several doors along each side. Eyes roving, she scanned the interior. The first doors on either wall were open and the
detective constable was indicating for them to go into the room to the left.

‘This is where we’ll be having our chat.’

Niamh tentatively stepped inside. The small room was furnished with three comfortable, cream-coloured chairs decorated with loose cushions covered with childish animal designs. There was a small
coffee table in the centre of the room and a big open-topped box of toys in the corner. Mounted high on two walls were cameras on top of which were perched toy monkeys. DC White saw Niamh take in
the cameras.

‘Do you know what those are, Niamh?’

‘Cameras. . .’ she answered, feeling slightly patronised. ‘I’m sorry. What do I call you? Constable? Ms White?’

The policewoman laughed.

‘Detective Constable White is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it? Just call me Kitty, Niamh. That’s what my friends call me and, as nicknames go, I think it’s quite nice. And
is it all right if I call you Niamh or do you prefer something else?’

‘Niamh is fine, Kitty,’ Niamh repeated, saying the detective’s nickname shyly. Despite being alert with nervous energy, she found that the woman’s easy manner was
seductively relaxing. She would have to be careful if she was going to avoid saying things that could be twisted and used against her dad.

‘Great. Now, Niamh, I know some of the questions I’m going to ask today might seem a bit silly to an intelligent girl like you, but please bear with me. It’s an important part
of my job to make sure you understand exactly what’s happening, so when we begin, I will run through some simple things for the record. Those cameras up there will transmit everything we talk
about today through to that room over there where it will be recorded. Let me introduce you to my colleague, Detective Constable Colin Barker, who will be monitoring us throughout. Kitty and Barker
. . . sounds like a kids’ TV show, doesn’t it?’

Niamh smiled. ‘I guess it does a bit.’

The room on the far side of the corridor was the same size as the interview room, but this one was dominated by a desk with a couple of TV screens and a DVD recorder.

‘If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you the rest of the place,’ Kitty said, leading them out into the corridor again.

There was a toilet, a small kitchen, a waiting room and a medical examination room that had everything in it that you would expect to find in a doctor’s surgery. Niamh didn’t want to
think too much about the reasons for having this room. It was a stark reminder of the sort of crime victims that would be brought to this place.

When they had finished the tour, they returned to the interview room.

‘Now, Niamh, where would you like to sit?’

‘Here’s fine,’ she replied, taking the chair nearest to the door.

‘And would you like your aunt to sit in with us or would you prefer it to be just the two of us? It is totally your choice. Whatever you feel more comfortable with.’

Niamh thought about it for a moment.‘I think I’ll be OK on my own, but what would you prefer, Aunt Aggie? I don’t mind.’

‘I’d like to sit in, if that’s all right,’ Aggie replied. ‘At least for a little while.’

‘That’s fine, Mrs Barrington,’ Kitty assured her. ‘In fact, if you could just be filling out this consent form for me, I’ll check with Colin that we’re all set and we can get going.’

DC White nipped across the corridor and back again, closing the door behind her and taking the remaining chair in the corner of the room. She had a folder of papers in her hand and proceeded to
leaf through them until she found the form she wanted. Taking out a pen, she checked her watch and made a couple of notes on the top of the form. Agatha finished filling in the form she had been
given and handed it over. Kitty checked it, nodded and thanked her before turning her attention back to Niamh.

‘Right, Niamh, for the tape I’d just like to repeat a couple of things. Firstly, I’m Detective Constable Kathryn White, though you can call me Kitty. You know we’re here
today to have a bit of a chat about what’s been going on recently. I’m a police officer from Banbury Police Station, so you know who I am and you know what I do. Now, before we start
talking, I have to do a bit of an introduction. So if you could just listen to what I have to say, then we can talk, OK?’

‘Yes, that’s fine,’ Niamh said, feeling a twinge of nervousness again.

‘Great. It’s Thursday 5th August, and by my watch I make it eight minutes past ten. I’m in an interview room with Niamh Cutler. That’s correct, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘And Niamh’s aunty – would you like to introduce yourself?’

‘Certainly. I’m Agatha Barrington, the sister of Niamh’s father, Matthew Cutler.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Barrington. My job here is to have a bit of chat with you, Niamh. We’ve already talked briefly about what’s going to happen, so you know what’s going on
today. As you understand, you’re not in a police station and you’re not in any trouble. You’re actually here today to help me do my job, and if you have any problems or concerns
at any time during this chat, feel free to tell me, OK?’

‘Yes, sure.’

‘You’ve had a good look around and met my colleague, DC Barker, in the monitoring room. Are you happy with everything you’ve seen?’

‘Yes.’

‘Brilliant. If you need a break at any point, to go to the toilet, or to get a drink, or some food, or for anything else for that matter, will you let me know?’

‘Yes, sure.’

For the next five minutes or more, DC White explained in painstaking detail what was happening and checked with Niamh that she understood exactly what was going on. Niamh quickly realised that
Kitty was working from a checklist and there were going to be no short cuts. Kitty took time to establish, through telling a simple story, that Niamh understood the difference between truth and
lies, and the importance of telling the truth to prevent any possibility of the investigation being misdirected. She explained that she would be taking some notes for her own benefit and that if
Niamh didn’t understand any of the questions she was asked, she should make it clear so that the question could be rephrased in a way she did understand.

The introduction seemed to go on and on, and Niamh began to wonder just how long it would be before she was asked any meaningful questions.

‘So, Niamh, in your own words, can you tell me why we’re here today?’

After the extended preamble, the question took Niamh by surprise. She thought for a moment before voicing her reply.

‘I guess we’re here because you . . . the police think that my dad murdered my brother and his friend.’

‘Right. . .’

Niamh waited, expecting another question. It didn’t come. After a moment of silence, she realised that Kitty was waiting for her to explain in more detail. She took a deep breath. Where to
start?

‘Well, we were on holiday in the Florida Keys: Dad, Sam, me and Callum, Sam’s friend from school. Dad insists we go there every year, because he’s still a bit obsessed with
finding out what happened to Mum after she disappeared nine years ago. He’d gone out looking for clues one day when the boys . . . well, Sam actually, decided to borrow Dad’s boat to go
out fishing. That’s when they disappeared. Dad didn’t have anything to do with them disappearing. He wasn’t even there when it happened.’

‘So you were on holiday in the Florida Keys with your dad, your brother and his friend. Your dad went out and the two boys took your dad’s boat to go fishing. Why do you think your
brother took your father’s boat out?’

‘I don’t know what got into him. He’s never done anything quite so idiotic before. I think he was bored and a bit hacked off with Dad for going off and leaving us with nothing
to do. Dad had promised to take Sam and Callum out fishing, but then he went off in the car on his own instead.’

Kitty nodded. ‘So tell me a bit about your dad, Niamh. What’s he like?’

For the next two hours, Niamh talked. To begin with, it was all about the family relationships. Kitty seemed to have endless patience and interest, exploring many of Niamh’s family
memories. Time and again, she would repeat cogent points back and use them to raise yet more questions.

When she talked about her mental link with her brother, Niamh noted that Kitty’s eyes widened. Aggie let out a snort of disbelief, but Kitty gave her a look that stopped her from
interrupting. Lots of questions followed about the link that Niamh struggled to answer. It was not an easy thing to put into words.

‘So can you feel him now?’ Kitty asked eventually.

Niamh closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated. ‘Not clearly,’ she said after a long pause. ‘All I can tell you about him right now is that he’s alive, but wherever
he is, Sam has been in danger several times since he and Callum disappeared. That’s when I feel him most clearly – when he is experiencing particularly strong emotions like extreme
fear. Believe me, I wish I could tell you where he was, but I can’t.’

They moved on to talking about Sam’s decision to take the boat out, going over and over every last detail that Niamh could remember about what was said and who was where. Eventually, it
was Kitty who called for the break.

‘Niamh, you’ve been brilliant so far. Thank you. Let’s take a break for a bit. We’ll have a bite to eat and a drink and come back to it fresh in about half an hour. Is
that OK?’

‘Is there much more to talk about?’ she asked. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t see how this is really helping to find the boys.’