Hard Evidence (25 page)

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Authors: Mark Pearson

BOOK: Hard Evidence
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'Why weren't there any police, Jack?'

'What do you mean?'

'At Wendy's. There should have been police.
Looking for you. Watching the house. We didn't
see any.'

'We wouldn't.'

'They would have left someone somewhere,
wouldn't they? Keeping surveillance.'

Delaney nodded darkly. 'Unless they'd been
called off.'

He pulled out his mobile phone. 'Turn it round,
Kate.'

But Kate was already way ahead of him as
Delaney made the call.

Wendy's eyes were wide with terror. She tried to
cry out, but the best she could manage was a low
whimper. She twisted her neck painfully, her face
scraping on the polished oak of her hallway floor,
the familiar smell of Mr Sheen clogging her
nostrils. She coughed, choking as the gag in her
mouth tightened, and tried to breathe deeply
through her nose, willing herself not to panic,
trying to calm the voice that screamed in her head.
Walker looked down at her dispassionately and
nodded to the boy with the thin rope in his hands.

'Tie it tighter, Andy.'

Andy tightened the rope that held the gag in
place and pulled Wendy's mouth into a rictus grin.
Like Billy Martin and Jackie Malone, Wendy's
hands and feet had been tied with coat-hanger
wire, wound round and twisted hard so that it bit
cruelly into her tender flesh.

Walker patted Andy fondly on the head and
smiled like a teacher watching a favourite pupil
apply a lesson well learned. Andy tied off the knot
on the rope, careless of any discomfort he was
causing Wendy.

Walker looked around angrily as the shrill
ringing of the phone echoed loudly in the hallway.
He looked down at the large Sabatier chef's knife
he held in his hand. Twelve inches of broad steel
with a solid wooden handle.

'Time to put her away, Andy.'

The smile on Andy's face sent a chill through
Wendy as her eyes, stark with fear, watched the
steel blade rise. Roger had bought a set of them for
her birthday one year. Something she had never
forgiven him for. There were lots of things to
forgive him for, she realised, lots of things over the
years: too many golf trips with the boys, too many
late business meetings, too many thoughtless
comments, too many times she just wasn't noticed,
or appreciated, or loved enough. Too many times
she didn't feel special in his eyes. She never made
her husband's eyes light up the way Delaney's did
when he saw her sister, she knew that, but she
loved her husband in her way, and in the terror of
her situation she realised that even if she wanted
to forgive him all those things, there wasn't any
time left.

The phone rang again. Echoing off the quarry-stoned
floor of the kitchen like an alarm.

Walker slashed down with the knife. Cold.
Clinical.

*

Delaney clicked the red button on his mobile and
selected another number.

'Sally, it's Delaney. Is Walker in the building?'

'He left a while ago.'

'You know where he was going?'

'He left a message for you, sir, if you phoned in.'

'What message?'

'He said that before you do anything rash, you
should think of your daughter. I guess he's concerned
about you.'

'Guess again. I think he's going to hurt Siobhan,
Sally. Walker's been involved in this all along. He
killed Eddie Bonner, or had him killed.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'I'm going to my sister-in-law's house. You know
where it is?'

'You want me to get a team down there?'

'No,' he said sharply. 'I don't want anything
rattling him. Don't do anything till I tell you to,
okay?'

'Of course, sir.'

'I thought I told you not to call me sir.' Delaney
snapped the phone shut and looked at Kate. 'Drive
faster.'

Kate floored the accelerator and charged up
the bus lane, bumping cars aside, regardless of the
damage to her paintwork and the outrage of
the other drivers. Delaney gazed ahead, his eyes
fixed, staring into a future he would not
countenance.

*

The young girl waved goodbye to her friend, who
returned the wave through the rear window of the
departing car. As she stood watching and waiting
for the car to disappear from view, she pulled her
New York Yankees baseball cap lower on her
head and sang 'Clementine' quietly to herself. The
cap was a present from her dad and the song was
one of his favourites. He was always singing it, at
least, so she presumed it was one of his favourites.
And if the kids at school thought she was odd
because she didn't wear a designer hat or sing the
latest teeny pop idol song, she didn't care. All she
cared about was making her dad happy again.
Happy like he used to be when she was much
younger. The memories of those times were
blurred now, but she could remember his warm
laughter as he hugged her mother. She could
remember the smiles and the music, and now and
again she saw flashes of it in his eyes when he
laughed at one of her jokes or clapped when she
sang him one of his favourite songs. She just
wished she could put those moments on pause,
like on the DVD player, and keep him happy like
that for always.

The car turned the corner out of view and the
young girl continued singing as she walked up the
gravel path to her house, her head down, watching
her feet as they scuffed through the raked stones.

The lock rattled, and Siobhan looked up, surprised
to see the door open and a man standing in
the hallway, smiling down at her, a wild-haired
boy beside him.

'Hello?'

'Hello, Siobhan.'

'You're very pretty,' said the dark-haired youth,
his smile revealing crooked teeth, a slash of ugly
imperfection in the face of a gypsy choirboy.

Kate gunned the engine, spinning round the roundabout,
cutting off someone on the inside and nearly
losing control, but she was good, she righted her
steering, accelerating again as she willed the traffic
to part in front of her.

'Why do they do it, Jack?'

'Who?'

'People like my uncle.'

'Human nature.'

'It's evil. It's not human.'

Delaney's eyes glittered darkly. 'We're all capable
of evil.'

Kate glanced at him and shook her head. 'You
don't believe that.'

'People like your uncle get hold of children like
Andy and do what they do to them because people
like us let them.'

Kate looked angrily across at him. 'Don't say
that!'

'Children are left on the street like garbage and
we complain when the wrong people sweep them
up. We trust people in authority and we turn a
blind eye when that trust is abused in the worst
kind of way. Teachers, policemen, social workers,
priests . . .'

He trailed off. Kate flicked a glance across at
him. 'You sound like you're talking from
experience.'

Delaney didn't answer for a moment. 'I live with
it every day, Kate. It's my job. Cleaning up the
vermin that comes crawling out of the gutters
when we treat people like garbage. Vermin like
Billy Martin and your uncle.'

Siobhan stood in the doorway, reluctant to enter.
Walker smiled at her, stroking the pad of his
thumb along the scar on his cheek. 'It's all right,
Siobhan, my name's Superintendent Walker, I'm
your daddy's boss.' He pulled out his ID. 'This is
my warrant card. You've probably seen your
daddy's, haven't you, just like this?'

Siobhan nodded and looked at the card, then
back at Walker.

'Is he in trouble, then?'

Walker laughed, a big fruity laugh. 'No, he's not
in any trouble. Why don't you come in? This is
Andy. He's a special friend of your dad's too.'

Siobhan smiled, reassured. 'Hello, Andy.'

'Hello.'

Siobhan walked into the hallway, slinging her
satchel over a coat hook, and looked round, a
little puzzled. 'Where's Aunty Wendy?'

Andy grinned. 'She's gone to the shops to get
some lemonade.'

Walker smiled again. 'She won't be too long.
Why don't you show me your room whilst we
wait? I bet you've got some lovely toys.'

Siobhan shrugged. 'They're all right.'

In the cupboard under the stairs, Wendy
whimpered, tried to cry out, telling Siobhan to
run, but the gag in her mouth and the rope holding
it in place meant she could do no more than make
a small mewing sound. She kicked her legs in
frustration, but it just dug the wire deeper into her
flesh and pulled the rope tighter around her neck.
There was no air in the cupboard and the heat was
unbearable. She struggled to get some oxygen into
her lungs and failed. Her eyes widened for a
moment as she heard the footsteps on the staircase
above her head, and then they lost focus and
closed. Soon she didn't feel the pain in her side
where the knife had punched and penetrated her
tender flesh; she didn't feel the cruel constriction
of her tortured throat. She didn't feel anything at
all.

Kate pulled the car to a screeching halt outside
Wendy's house. Delaney threw his door open and
jumped out, followed by Kate, who shouted after
him, 'Don't even think about telling me to wait
out here.'

Delaney nodded and headed for the door,
taking a key out of his pocket as he ran.

Upstairs in Siobhan's bedroom, Walker smiled
as he heard the key turn in the lock. He looked at
Andy and put a finger to his lips. 'Sit on the bed,
Andy.' Andy sat next to Siobhan, and Walker
smiled at the young girl. 'Shush. That's your dad
now. Let's give him a nice surprise, shall we?'

Siobhan nodded and whispered, 'Daddy loves
surprises.'

'He's going to love this one.'

Downstairs, Delaney picked up the slashed
telephone cord and looked at the blood-stained
Sabatier blade on the counter beside it. His
daughter's scream rang out from upstairs and it felt
like someone had plunged the knife into his heart.
He snatched it and ran for the stairs; Kate caught
his arm and whispered hoarsely, 'Be careful.'

Delaney shook her hand off and took the steps
two at a time. Bursting into his daughter's room,
he pulled up short as he saw that Walker had
Siobhan held in front of him with a knife at her
throat.

'Come on in, Detective Inspector.'

Delaney kept his face neutral. He looked down
at his daughter and spoke softly. 'It's all right,
pumpkin. Everything's going to be okay.'

'Put the knife down, Inspector.'

Delaney hesitated for a beat and then let the
carving knife fall to the floor.

'Pick it up, Andy.'

Andy stood up from the bed and picked up the
knife.

Delaney watched him as he moved back. 'You
in on this, then, Andy?'

Andy shrugged. 'Not to start with.'

Walker nodded, his voice warm, amused. 'He
disappeared for a little while, but I think he's
rather glad I found him again. Andy enjoyed the
filming work I gave him, didn't you, son?'

'Yeah.'

Delaney noticed the flat look in the young boy's
eyes, and felt a chill in his soul.

'He used to help find the young stars for our
films. He came and went as he pleased. Isn't that
right?'

Andy nodded, and Delaney looked at him. 'So
what changed?'

Andy shrugged. 'Uncle Billy found me. Saw I
was holding some serious folding and wanted to
know where I was getting it from.' He smiled
humourlessly. 'He beat it out of me.'

'The thing was, Andy knew Moffett from when
his mum was making
Sin Sisters
,' said Walker.
'Billy went to Moffett and put the squeeze on him.
Moffett hired Norrell to take care of the problem,'
he shrugged, 'and the rest you know.'

Delaney looked at the young boy. 'So what
now, Andy? Your mother loved you, you know.
She'd have done anything to protect you.'

'Which is why I had Moffett dealt with, as soon
as I knew what was happening.'

'So Jackie Malone's death was nothing to do
with you?'

'Of course not. And Andy is a bright lad. He's
learned from experience. Something it seems
you're incapable of doing.'

Delaney turned the full glare of his hatred back
on Walker. 'You think you can just walk away
from all this? What do you think you're going to
achieve here?'

Walker smiled thinly. 'Closure, Jack. Isn't that
what we are all seeking in the end?'

'Closure?'

'Because you're taking the fall, as our American
cousins would say. I had information that you
were keeping young Andy here against his will,
and I acted on it. Isn't that right, Andy?'

Andy looked at Delaney, deadpan. 'I told my
mother about you and my uncle abusing me.
That's why you killed them both.'

'And that's why you killed Sergeant Bonner
when he put two and two together. Your DNA is
going to be all over him. You couldn't have been
more helpful if you'd tried.'

'Put the knife down, Walker, and I'll see you get
help. You're a sick man.'

'Because I showed affection and love? Because I
cared for those kids when nobody else did?'

'Love,' Delaney almost spat.

Walker was not fazed at all. 'Yes, love, Delaney.
Something those runaway kids never knew. Why
do you think they do run away? Living on the
streets like animals. We helped them. The home
Moffett and our associates set up for them was the
first real place they had ever felt secure.'

Delaney looked over at Andy. 'Is that right,
Andy?'

Andy shrugged. 'They were a lot better to me
than my uncles ever were.'

'You see, Inspector.'

Delaney glared back at him. 'Enough talk. Just
let my daughter go now.'

'All in good time.'

Walker nodded at Andy. 'Keep an eye on
her.'

Andy held the blood-stained Sabatier knife up
as Walker put his own knife down on Siobhan's
lilac-coloured chest of drawers. The lethal blade
obscenely incongruous amongst the toy ponies
and the Barbie dolls. He reached into his jacket
pocket and pulled out a pistol.

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