In Guilty Night (35 page)

‘Talking to somebody from Social Services.’

‘Then I want you to go to Caernarfon.’ McKenna turned away from the blazing building, the skin on his face taut with heat, his coat collar almost burning hot. ‘You must ask Carol what time she arrived home, and her parents must verify whatever she says.’

‘It’s almost two in the morning. They’ll be in bed.’

‘Then you’ll have to get them out, won’t you?’

Griffiths sat beside McKenna in his car, shivering. ‘I’m too bloody old for this caper.’

‘You didn’t need to come. There’s nothing to be done tonight.’

‘Got to show willing, Michael.’ He nodded towards the man
talking to Dilys Roberts. ‘If the deputy director of social services can rise from his bed, so can I. What d’you reckon, then? An Act of God? The cleansing fire? Arson? A children’s revolution?’

‘Civil disobedience might be the last refuge of the disaffected, but the will to resist is well subdued in those children.’

‘They’ll carry the can, one way or another,’ Griffiths said. ‘Social Services can’t afford to keep scapegoats and not use them.’

‘You’ve become too cynical,’ McKenna said. ‘The director warned me of the dangers of siding with the sub-culture.’

‘I’ve never sided with anything except fair play,’ Griffiths said. ‘What’s the matter with her now?’ he added, watching Janet, her face ugly with rage, confront Dewi Prys before striding away. ‘I don’t know where she gets the energy for rowing with people at this time of the morning. She’d better pull herself together, or I’ll put her on traffic duty for the next six months.’

‘There’s still conflict with her father.’

‘Yes, I know, and I’m not surprised with her attitude. Her head’s awash with silly ideas about men making victims of women at every turn, so she does the Annie Oakley routine, shooting at everything in trousers, and wonders why men get shirty with her. Silly madam! Pastor Evans should’ve tanned her hide a bit more often when she was little.’

‘He wants her to leave home.’

‘And so she should,’ Griffiths commented. ‘Festering resentments build up just as nastily when a child stays at home too long as when a marriage goes sour.’

The telephone woke McKenna again, as the cathedral clock struck seven.

‘It’s on the national news,’ Jack said. ‘Breakfast TV. Why didn’t you call me? I wasn’t asleep.’

‘I was,’ McKenna said. ‘I went back to bed an hour ago.’

‘Bits of sleep are worse than none at all.’

‘Some of us snatch sleep when we can. We can’t all lounge in bed all day with a loving wife dancing attendance.’

‘Em’s fed up with the sight of me, and I wasn’t in bed all day. I’ve been pottering round, doing this and that, and I’d still be asleep but for another of those damned phone calls.’

‘And did you check on the number?’ McKenna rubbed his shoulder.

‘Yes, and a female electronic voice informed me there wasn’t a number available. Em says that means it’s being barred.’

‘I know you’ve sent Dewi Prys and Janet up a different mountain looking for that boy, contrary to instructions, but I’ll pretend I don’t,’ Griffiths said. ‘Will they kiss and make up behind a handy boulder?’

‘Janet’s more likely to smash Dewi over the head with one.’ McKenna yawned, and picked up a mug of tea. ‘What shall we do about Blodwel?’

‘Thank God it’s been gutted. One less place for kids to be abused.’ Griffiths yawned. ‘Are you sure Carol didn’t torch the dump?’

‘As sure as I can be, given the thoroughly disturbing streak of ruthlessness in her nature.’

‘She’ll need it in this life. Anyway, she’s not strayed yet further from the side of the angels than most folk would blame her for.’

‘The Thomases were all fast in righteous slumber when Dewi got there, and Peggy said Carol arrived home about an hour after she left here. Allowing for Sunday bus services, she didn’t have time to go anywhere near Blodwel.’

‘Not even to stuff smouldering fag ends in every orifice?’ Griffiths smiled a little. ‘Not that I’d pursue her over-zealously if I thought she had, as nobody was hurt.’ As McKenna yawned again, he added, ‘Go home for some sleep. I don’t want you off sick as well.’

‘I’m going to see Mr and Mrs Hogg and their minions, and then the director.’

‘Why?’

‘To express my sympathy for the partial fall of their empire.’

Dawdling outside Woolworths, Robert Lovell stared at his reflection in the window as the Monday-morning crowd of Christmas shoppers swarmed past, then crossed the road to the Deiniol Centre, to see his ghostly image amid the glitter of gold and chips of diamond in the window of the jeweller’s shop. In the café next door, he took his coffee to a window table, where he could watch shoppers parading through the little mall, and listen to Christmas carols blaring from the loudspeakers. Sipping his drink, he marvelled that the simple act of shaving off the straggling silly beard and moustache could create such wholesome and decent feelings, and hoped
divesting himself of his dangerous little secrets would complete the process begun when he picked up the razor early that morning, after hearing the news about Blodwel.

Rapt before the huge colour television in her grandmother’s tiny parlour, Mandy watched the report on the Blodwel fire for the fifth time since early morning. As soon as the lurid pictures of burning building and excited crowds disappeared, she flicked to the teletext reports, moving from channel to channel in search of more than the bare bones of the story.

‘You’ve seen all there is to see.’ Her grandmother took the remote control from the girl’s tense fingers, and switched off the set. ‘Nobody got hurt, and it’s nothing to do with you now. You can’t be blamed for anything, and you’re not going back to Blodwel or anywhere like it.’

‘Hogg nailed the windows up so we couldn’t run away,’ Mandy muttered. ‘Will they do anything to him?’

‘Does anything ever happen to the likes of him? Now, stop fretting. We’re going out to buy you something nice to wear at that poor boy’s funeral tomorrow.’

The director of social services whitened with anger. ‘You should get off your high horse, Chief Inspector, before someone pushes you!’

‘Finding out what happened at Blodwel is more in your interests than ours,’ McKenna pointed out. ‘Especially as there’s evidence of criminal disregard for the safety of children and staff.’

‘My staff live with criminal disregard day in and day out! Dilys Roberts acted in a thoroughly professional way, and probably averted a tragedy.’

‘She couldn’t evacuate the building because the fire escapes were locked.’

‘Nonsense! She was about to open the door when the firemen bludgeoned it to smithereens.’

‘I’ve seen the locks on the doors and the nails in what’s left of the window frames,’ McKenna pointed out. ‘And you will please instruct all your staff, including Mr and Mrs Hogg, to stay away from the building. I had to stop Mrs Hogg entering the flat this morning. She’d already tried to interfere with the forensic examination.’

‘Blodwel is council property. You require my permission to be there, and that permission can be withdrawn at any time!’

‘Crime doesn’t observe boundaries,’ McKenna said. ‘We’re obliged to follow where it trespasses.’

‘You trespass long before a crime takes place! You’ve created untold disruption and anxiety at Blodwel because of that delinquent Thomas boy. Why d’you think those children rioted and set the place alight?’ Frowning, he added, ‘It’s a sorry day when professionals like us, who should be on the same side of the fence, are set against each other by the wiles of a few delinquents.’

‘Where was Ronnie, then?’ Eifion Roberts perched on the edge of McKenna’s desk.

‘Distraught, according to Doris. Life’s work gone up in flames etcetera,’ McKenna said.

‘He doesn’t half hide behind her fat bum. Why does he need a troubleshooter?’

‘Because he causes trouble.’ McKenna sighed. ‘Go away, will you? I’m too tired for your brand of talk.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Dr Roberts slid off the desk. ‘You missed your chance. You could’ve arrested her for tampering with evidence. By the way, someone called Robert Lovell’s waiting to see you. D’you know that rhyme about Richard the Third and Robert Lovell? “The cat, the rat and Lovell our dog, ruleth all England under a hog”.’

As the latter day Robert Lovell sat in the chair Carol Thomas occupied the day before, looking anxious, the ancient rhyme tripped back and forth in McKenna’s head, and he wondered idly if the other Lovell had sported a beard.

‘I barely recognize you,’ he said. ‘Are you out of a job?’

‘Blodwel staff’ve been dispersed round the other homes,’ Lovell said. ‘I’ll probably get the sack when Hogg finds out I’ve come here, but I’ve run out of choices. I’m not one for conspiracies of any sort.’

‘Is there a conspiracy?’

‘Any number.’ Lovell took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. ‘They probably started accidentally, but they’ve taken on a different colour.’

McKenna pushed an ashtray across the desk. ‘I had you down as biddable and dutiful.’

‘Worms turn, don’t they?’ I’ve had a strictly confidential letter from the director. I thought it was my notice at first.’ He took a long white envelope from his inside pocket, and handed
it to McKenna. ‘He wants me to sign that piece of paper set out like an affidavit, and send it back to him. Dilys said everyone’s had the same letter.’

‘And will they all sign?’

‘We’re supposed to stick together, because we can’t do the job without each other’s support and loyalty.’

McKenna read the letter again. ‘There’s nothing truly contentious here. He’s asking you not to disclose confidential information about your work to outsiders, which must be a condition in your contract of employment, confirming your permanent employment, and reminding you to channel any concerns to your line manager.’

‘Hogg’s my line manager.’ Lovell lit the cigarette in his fingers. ‘So it’s a bit difficult telling him the kids say he’s abusing them.’

‘Are they? Have they actually told you? Have you witnessed assaults?’

Lovell frowned. ‘You’re not being very helpful.’

‘I’m obliged to abide by evidence. Not speculation, or even wishful thinking.’

‘I know that.’ Lovell nodded. ‘But there isn’t a kid alive who’d dare say his face looked like a punchbag because Hogg bashed him, and not because he fell into a door. They’re all terrified, and Blodwel stank of that fear, like an open grave.’ He stubbed out the cigarette, splattering ash and shreds of tobacco on the desk. ‘The weeping in the night made your flesh crawl, but if you tried to comfort them, they’d cower away, like you’re a monster.’

‘They’re children in distress,’ McKenna said. ‘Homesick, rootless, guilt-ridden, and fearful. I can understand your frustration, but you’re saying nothing which isn’t easily and convincingly countered.’

‘Oh, I know!’ Lovell said. ‘I found bloody sheets on Tony Jones’s bed once, and Doris said he must’ve been picking the spots on his back.’ He shook his head. ‘And I believed her! My instincts are yelling crap!, but I still believed her.’

‘Instincts and conscience are abstracts of personality,’ McKenna said. ‘Perhaps too abstracted in modern man. They tend to lie very low.’ He rubbed his shoulder, trying to dispel the gnawing ache of tiredness. ‘Still, yours’ve been roused.’

‘Better late than never, you mean? It’s too late for Tony and Arwel and the kid Hogg beat to a pulp the other night, isn’t it?’ He dragged his hand over the newly naked flesh of jaw and
cheek. ‘I’ve doubted myself so much I became absolutely impotent, conned by Hogg and Doris into believing my values, and not theirs, were off the wall.’ Dragging another cigarette from the packet, he said, ‘It’s like water dripping on stone. You see somebody do something you never thought possible, then they keep on doing it, ’til you end up thinking it’s normal.’

‘You’re ashamed of yourself, and even bitter, but you can’t blame yourself for the children’s tragedies.’

‘I’m guilty for doing nothing.’

McKenna picked up a pen. ‘Then give me some facts we can use as a basis for investigation.’

‘Lovell-Our-Dog should feel a tad better knowing his sense of decency didn’t wholly fall to Hogg’s brand of seduction,’ Owen Griffiths observed, scanning McKenna’s notes. ‘He hasn’t given us much, has he? Fancy Hogg having the gall to plan a visit to Arwel’s funeral with Blodwel kids done up in their Sunday best.’

‘He should be warned off,’ McKenna said. ‘We’d need a SWAT team to keep Carol off him and Doris.’

‘I’m inclined to let God’s will prevail. It’s nothing to Arwel, is it?’

‘Carol’s near the end of her tether, and we couldn’t ignore a public brawl.’

‘I suppose. I’ll fax Hogg’s boss.’ He flicked the sheet of notes. ‘What can we do with this?’

‘Lovell supports Mandy’s allegation of assault, and he saw Darren Pritchard unmarked before he visited Hogg’s office, then immediately afterwards, when Darren looked like he’d embraced the chassis of a Safeway’s truck.’

‘Very picturesque. What about the little kid?’ Griffiths peered at the notes. ‘Your writing gets worse by the day. Why don’t you get a laptop computer, or something?’

‘With what?’

‘The money you’d save if you quit smoking.’ Griffiths wrinkled his nose. ‘According to Lovell-Our-Dog, after Janet talked to the little boy about the silver bullet, Dilys Roberts took him to Hogg’s flat, and the kid was in tears five or ten minutes later when he was taken upstairs. Is that right?’

‘And when Lovell next saw the child, later that night, his face was battered, and he complained of pains in his stomach and back.’

‘And Doris, who’s not very inventive with her excuses, said he’d fallen over. These kids do an awful lot of falling over.’

‘Children do.’

‘Mine were always falling over their own feet, I must admit. What’s this scribble? Looks like “Inspector Somebody or Other”.’

‘Hogg reckons to have a tame copper under his thumb, who arranges for the mouthy kids to get locked up, then throws the key out to sea.’

‘Bloody charming! Do we know this helpful person?’