Flawed (24 page)

‘That's not the best argument I've ever heard for getting married,’ growled Deacon. ‘Grab her while she's low – when she's back on form she'll expect to do better.’

Daniel gave a slow grin. ‘Perhaps we're all getting a little
long in the tooth to hang on for ungovernable passion.’

‘You're not,’ Deacon pointed out. ‘You're twenty-seven, for God's sake!’

‘Twenty-eight,’ Daniel corrected him. ‘And Brodie's thirty-three, and she thinks she's too old to be having another child much less raising one alone.’

Deacon tilted his eyebrows. ‘She said that?’ Daniel nodded. Deacon drew a deep breath. ‘All right. I'll talk to her. I'm
not
going to propose to her. I'm not even going to proposition her. But I will talk to her.’

‘You won't regret it,’ promised Daniel.

Deacon fixed him with a gaze like a pikestaff. ‘Daniel – I'm regretting it already.’

They walked on through the park and crossed into Battle Alley, and parted at the steps to the police station as Deacon turned in and Daniel continued towards Shack Lane.

But he didn't get much further. Before Deacon had even gone inside a car squealed round the corner and ground to a halt, spitting dirt, a metre from the pavement. Adam Selkirk leapt out, leaving the door wide, a hazard to traffic. ‘You little bastard!’ he yelled. ‘What have you done with them? Where are my wife and my son?’

You shout, ‘What have you done with my wife, you bastard?’ in front of a police station and people are going to come to the window. One of those who came to the window of the top-storey CID offices was Alix Hyde.

Deacon changed direction as smoothly as Ginger Rogers, so that anyone who hadn't seen him a second earlier would have sworn he was coming out of the building and heading down the steps. It wasn't so much that he felt the urge to protect
Daniel from a large and overwrought solicitor, more that he wanted to watch.

Daniel was fully conscious of where they were. He couldn't have chosen a better spot for the confrontation. He quelled his natural urge to run and waited for Selkirk to reach him.

If you're a lot bigger than most people, there are three ways you can go. You can compensate, choosing your every word and gesture to reassure people who might otherwise feel intimidated – the gentle giant approach. You can make the most of a natural advantage and do a lot of looming, and excuse yourself on the grounds that it's not bullying if you keep your hands in your pockets. Or you can do what Deacon did, at least most of the time – not make an issue of it unless someone else did, and then flatten them with a clear conscience.

Adam Selkirk was not a police officer. There were few occasions in his professional life when it was really useful to be built like a brick privy. Nor was it any great advantage at home – his son was a pre-pubescent twelve-year-old, his wife a slight woman: it didn't take a big man to physically dominate either of them. In consequence, Daniel thought he wasn't sure what to do about the fact that he was so much bigger than the object of his ire. Obviously he wanted to hit him – that was how he resolved all his personal frustrations. But this was not just a public street, it was a public street with a police station on it. However much trouble it gave him usually, restraint was undoubtedly the best policy today. So when he was close enough for Daniel to smell his aftershave he stopped, hands fisted by his sides, quaking with rage.

Daniel said quietly, ‘Were you looking for me, Mr Selkirk?’

Deacon watched with interest. All he wanted for was popcorn.

‘Where is she?’ demanded Selkirk. For the moment he was going with the low-voice-full-of-menace option.

Saying
Who?
would be disingenuous to the point of dishonesty. Daniel said, ‘She's safe. They both are.’

‘Where?’

‘I'm not telling you.’

‘She's my wife!’

‘Yes. Not your punchbag.’

There was no way of knowing if Daniel was the first to have noticed the bruises on Noah and his mother, only that he was the first to have done something about them. A man who'd been getting away with a little murder every week, possibly for years, must have been stunned to find suddenly there were consequences. Like, having it said out loud in the middle of the street. Discretion, like good manners, is one of those oils that help the world go round smoothly, and some things are not mentioned in polite society.

There are certain advantages to being an outsider, Daniel had found. One was, if you're not used to having society's approval you're not afraid of losing it.

‘Did she tell you that?’ demanded Selkirk. His voice was unsteady.

‘No. Neither did Noah. It's hardly a secret, though, when they're walking round with the evidence printed on their faces.’

‘You don't know what you're talking about,’ sneered Selkirk. ‘Now tell me where I can find my family.’

‘No,’ Daniel said again. ‘Mr Selkirk, your wife knows your phone number. If she wanted to talk she'd call you. If she
wanted you to fetch her, she'd call you. If she hasn't told you where she is, I'm not going to.’

Veins were thumping like jack-hammers in Adam Selkirk's temples. ‘You can't do this. Noah is my son. I have a right to know where he is. He hasn't been in school since Monday. Why not? Where is he? Where has she taken him?’

‘Your faith in the value of education is touching,’ said Daniel ironically. ‘But I don't think a few days off school will do him much harm. That's a bright boy, Mr Selkirk. I'm not worried about his academic prowess. I'm worried about him not sustaining brain damage in the next few months.’

‘Then why the hell…?’ Selkirk heard himself shouting – half Dimmock heard him shouting – and tried to get a grip. ‘Listen, Hood, let's at least try to behave like civilised men. I'll pretend you really do have my son's best interests at heart, you're not just a meddling busy-body, and you can pretend I give a gnat's whisker what you think of me. Noah is in no danger from me. I don't hit him, I have never hit him. When he's with me, he's safe. Right now I don't know where he is or what's happening to him. But if he comes to any harm, I'll know exactly who to blame.’

Daniel favoured him with a cold smile. ‘It's a good act,’ he acknowledged. ‘I bet most people fall for it. Of course, telling lies convincingly is what you're good at – what you're paid for. I'm sure you're worth every penny.

‘But I don't believe you, Mr Selkirk. It's as simple as that. I've seen a little of your family. I saw your wife last night, after you left the house. I don't believe she got like that walking into a door. I don't think you could get like that walking into a revolving door.’

‘I didn't hit my wife!’ yelled the big man; and the fists bounced up and down at the end of his arms as if they simply couldn't wait to be pounding Daniel Hood's face to pulp. ‘She…’

Daniel waited, eyes wide with curiosity, but Selkirk had choked on his anger and no more words came. ‘What?’ Daniel prompted after a moment. ‘Took a ride in the tumble-drier? Head-butted the fridge?’

Deacon heard the door behind him open and Detective Inspector Hyde passed him on the steps. She joined the two men in the street, looking between them – up at Selkirk, down at Daniel. ‘Is everything all right here? Mr Selkirk?’

Selkirk had to clench his teeth to get his voice under control. ‘Not really, no,’ he gritted.

‘Do you want to talk about it inside?’

‘Yes,’ Daniel said immediately. After a second's pause Selkirk nodded.

They followed her back up the stone steps into the police station. As they passed him Deacon did an about-face and joined on the end.

When Alix Hyde realised he was there she hesitated. ‘I think this is probably to do with my investigation, Superintendent,’ she said pointedly.

‘May well be,’ nodded Deacon, never missing a step.

‘So…where should we go for a bit of privacy?’

‘You can bring them to my office,’ said Deacon generously.

It was clear that Hyde was unhappy, but she was both out-ranked and out-flanked. This was Deacon's manor and Deacon's nick, and if she took him on she'd lose. One of the secrets of winning battles is knowing which ones to fight.

And having the right allies. As Charlie Voss came out of the CID room she captured him with one arm through his, swung him round and added him to the party bound for Deacon's office.

There weren't enough chairs. Deacon took the big comfortable one behind the desk and left the others to fend for themselves.

Everyone in that room was thinking hard – except for Daniel who knew exactly what he was doing. And what he wasn't.

Adam Selkirk was thinking that what had been a private difficulty a week ago was now in the public domain. There were too many people now privy to it for the secret to be kept. The question was no longer whether the lie would continue to serve but whether he could put a better spin on the truth.

Alix Hyde was thinking that sometimes mid-stream is the exact right spot to change horses. If Selkirk had been shouting in the street about his family problems it was probably too late to offer him discretion as a reward for his cooperation. It was time to hit him with the full force of the child protection legislation in order to permanently destroy his usefulness to Terry Walsh.

Charlie Voss was feeling as deeply uneasy in this gathering as if it was him who was suspected of child abuse, and he wasn't sure why. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. He'd had two imperatives – to protect Noah Selkirk from his father and society from Terry Walsh – and he thought he'd been meeting both. His senior investigating officer seemed to think so too. Which suggested that what he was anxious about was how Detective Inspector Deacon would react. This
came as a bit of a shock. Voss didn't like thinking he might have done something even Deacon would disapprove of.

And what Deacon was thinking was, This is where I listen lots and speak little. Because everything here is not as it seems to be. Well, there's nothing unusual about that, in my world virtually
nothing
is quite as it appears. But usually I can count on the other police officers, and today I'm not sure I can.

He said benevolently, ‘So who's going to start?’

Alix Hyde said, ‘Charlie?’

Voss hesitated. He was used to being the Victorian child in these situations, seen and not heard. But Detective Inspector Hyde did things differently to Detective Superintendent Deacon, and Voss was in as good a position as anyone to set out the facts, and appreciated being given the chance.

He cleared his throat. ‘It has been drawn to our attention that Mr Selkirk's twelve-year-old son has suffered a number of unexplained injuries. We've been trying to establish how he sustained them, to find out who was responsible and to prevent any recurrence.’

Behind his eyes, which remained impassive, Deacon was thinking: Well done, lad. Whether or not you know what she's doing – and I don't think you do – that was the right answer. He said aloud, ‘Where's the boy now?’

‘He's with his mother,’ said Daniel.

‘And you know where they are.’

‘Yes.’

‘But you don't want to say.’

‘No.’

Deacon turned to Selkirk. ‘And you want to know?’

‘Of course I want to know,’ said Selkirk, managing not to
shout though it played havoc with his blood pressure. ‘Last time I saw them they were both upset. I need to know they're all right.’

‘They're all right,’ said Daniel. When he was angry his voice didn't soar, it developed this edge like honed steel.

‘How do you know that?’ demanded Selkirk. ‘You're here and they're not. How do you
know
they're safe?’

‘I saw them yesterday. They were fine. They were together and there was nobody else there. As long as nobody knows where they are, I think we can assume they're fine.’

‘Oh do you?’ snarled Selkirk. ‘Can we quote you on that? Will you accept the responsibility if you're wrong?’

Daniel half-turned to look him full in the face. With both of them standing it wasn't a question of him looking the solicitor up and down so much as up and further up, but the message it conveyed was unmistakable. Daniel Hood despised Adam Selkirk and didn't care who knew it. ‘Oh yes,’ he said with conviction.

‘I see,’ said Deacon thoughtfully. ‘But that clearly isn't enough for you, is it, Mr Selkirk? Do you want to explain why not?’

There was the briefest hesitation before he came back. ‘You want me to explain why the word of last year's head prefect isn't enough to reassure me? He took them from my house in the middle of the night, and he won't say where they are, and we only have his word for it that they wanted to go. Do you
expect me
to find that acceptable?’

In fact Daniel never made head prefect. He wasn't good enough at sports. And if he had it would have been ten years ago. But it was meant as an insult and it felt like one, and
Daniel felt himself flush. ‘My word is good. Ask anyone.’

‘Your word
is
good,’ agreed Deacon, nodding slowly. ‘Your judgement, however, can be flawed. So tell me: how did you get involved in this?’

‘He's a boy, Jack,’ said Daniel, an odd mix of anger and entreaty in his voice. ‘He's twelve years old. Not the kind of twelve-year-old you were – the kind I was. And every time I saw him he had a fresh crop of bruises. He's been hit -regularly, and hard. I didn't find
that
acceptable.’

‘And I told you,’ snarled Selkirk, ‘I never laid a hand on him.’

‘So you did,’ acknowledged Daniel coldly. ‘But then, you're a man who lies for a living.’

If he was attempting to provoke violence, this time he came close to succeeding. Selkirk's broad shoulders lifted in a way that said one of his ham-sized fists was close behind. Deacon continued watching with interest, Hyde with anticipation. But Charlie Voss stepped quickly between them, physically shouldering Daniel aside. Angry as he was, Selkirk was not ready to strike a police officer. He subsided.

‘So you think he beats his twelve-year-old son,’ summarised Deacon, ‘and he denies it. Detective Inspector Hyde?’

Alix Hyde gave a tiny nod. ‘That's the allegation that's been made to us. We've interviewed Mr Selkirk. He denied it on that occasion too. Our investigations are on-going.’