The Killing

by Robert Muchamore

  ‘Falco wasn’t your personal property. That old fart’s taken more bribes than he’s had hot dinners.’

  ‘Not for you he wouldn’t have … Falco hates your guts.’

  ‘What happened to Will Clarke has got nothing to do with the car … You ripped me off.’

  Lauren hit the stop button. ‘I wish he’d admitted it, instead of saying about the car.’

  John smiled. ‘Lauren, by the time you’ve been in this game as many years as me, you’ll have given up expecting it ever to be that simple. Leon’s accusation is still powerful evidence, and Michael did nothing to deny it.’

  ‘The name Falco sounds familiar,’ Kerry said. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen it on a document somewhere.’

  John shrugged. ‘If you think you can remember something, go have a look in the files. I’ll ring and check with Millie.’

  John grabbed a telephone, while Kerry dashed into the other room to rummage through the filing trolleys.

  ‘Millie,’ John said, when she answered. ‘What does the name Falco mean to you?’

  ‘Hang on, I’m still in the community centre,’ Millie said, as she crept out of the meeting and into the hallway. ‘Alan Falco worked on the serious crime squad at Palm Hill. Not the greatest cop in the world, but he was a nice old stick. He retired before Christmas.’

  Kerry dashed up to John holding an open folder. John moved the phone away from his face. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s on here,’ Kerry said. ‘Alan Falco must have been the second cop on the scene after Michael Patel. He took this witness statement from a girl called Jane Cunningham and a couple of people who were inside the flats.’

  ‘Leon said he paid Falco to deal with the witness statements,’ Lauren said.

  ‘Maybe he had them altered,’ John said. ‘Or just removed certain ones that contained incriminating information.’

  John put the telephone back to his face. ‘Thanks Millie, I’ve got to go. It looks like we’re on to something here. We’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Look, look,’ Kerry gasped, tapping on the folder. ‘In Jane’s statement it says a group of boys had nicked Hannah Clarke’s sandal and were throwing it around.’

  ‘So what?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Well, where are their statements?’

  Lauren leaned over Kerry’s shoulder and pointed at the next paragraph. ‘It says the boys all ran away when the body hit the ground.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kerry said. ‘But they were local kids and they probably had a better view of what happened than anyone else. Wouldn’t someone have found out who they were and asked them what they’d seen?’

  John nodded. ‘I think you’re spot on, Kerry. We need to find out who those boys were and what they saw.’

  14:21

  The elderly lady put the security chain on before opening her front door to the policewoman.

  ‘Mrs Cunningham?’ Millie asked, flashing her warrant card. ‘I’m looking for your granddaughter, Jane. Is she home?’

  Mrs Cunningham looked pale and her hands were shaking out of control. ‘Jane’s popped out to the shops,’ she wheezed. ‘I shouldn’t think she’ll be much longer. Would you like to come in and wait?’

  ‘Yes,’ Millie said.

  ‘She’s not in trouble is she?’

  Millie shook her head and smiled reassuringly as she stepped into the hallway. ‘I’d like to ask her some questions about the incident last August.’

  ‘The boy on the roof?’ Mrs Cunningham asked.

  Millie nodded as she stepped into the living-room. The old lady settled into an armchair. There was an oxygen cylinder at her side and dozens of pill bottles on the table.

  ‘You’re welcome to make yourself a cup of tea, officer. I’m afraid I’m not up to much. Not in this heat.’

  ‘Does your granddaughter look after you by herself?’

  The old lady smiled. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

  Jane came home a few minutes later, looking haggard and carrying three Sainsbury’s bags. She wanted to get the food in the fridge, so Millie spoke to her in the kitchen while she unpacked the shopping.

  ‘This is the statement you made a year ago,’ Millie said, setting a photocopy on the dining table. ‘You mention that there was a group of boys playing football. How many do you think there were?’

  Jane shrugged. ‘Seven or eight, I guess.’

  ‘You said that they ran off, but did you see any of them giving statements later?’

  ‘I think they all did,’ Jane nodded. ‘One of them – a little skinny guy – got knocked flying somehow and ended up with a bloody nose. The others were all around him for a bit. Then they gave statements to a cop, for sure.’

  ‘Michael Patel?’

  Jane shook her head. ‘Patel stayed with my friend, Hannah. Will was her cousin and she was hysterical. How come you’re digging this all up again? It’s like a year ago.’

  Millie knew how fast rumours could spread, so she didn’t tell the truth. ‘It’s a routine audit. We like to dot the Is and cross the Ts before we send our files off to be archived. I couldn’t work out why no statements had been taken from the boys. Based on what you’re saying, the statements were taken but then lost. You wouldn’t happen to know any of the boys’ names would you?’

  Jane shrugged. ‘Sorry. I mean, they’re all kids who hang around this part of the estate, but I don’t actually know them.’

  ‘Have you got any idea where they live?

  ‘Oh, now you’ve said that,’ Jane nodded, breaking into a smile. ‘One of them was Kevin Milligan. He lived above our old flat in block six. He used to wind my nan up, filling balloons with water and dropping them down on to our balcony.’

  14:50

  ‘Oh Christ,’ Kevin Milligan’s mum said as she opened her front door. ‘What’s he gone and done now? KEVIN, get out here.’

  ‘He’s not done anything wrong,’ Millie said, as a worried looking ten-year-old emerged from his bedroom dressed in an England rugby shirt.

  ‘Hello Kevin,’ Millie smiled, stepping into the hallway. ‘Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about what happened last year, when you saw Will Clarke fall off the roof? You don’t find it upsetting, do you?’

  ‘No,’ Kevin said, resenting the suggestion that he might be squeamish.

  Millie noticed another boy had his head sticking out of the bedroom.

  ‘That’s Adrian, his partner in crime,’ Mrs Milligan grinned as she pushed up the front door shut. ‘He was there as well.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Millie said. ‘I can ask you both. It shouldn’t take long.’

  Kevin led Millie into his bedroom. The boys had snacks and a Scalextric set spread over the carpet. Millie sat on the edge of Kevin’s duvet, while Mrs Milligan stood in the doorway.

  ‘We seem to have lost the statements you gave,’ Millie explained. ‘I wanted to know if you’d remembered seeing anything.’

  ‘I never saw anything except the boy hitting the ground,’ Kevin explained. ‘I legged it and this cop came charging round the corner and knocked me flying.’

  ‘Which officer was that?’

  ‘The Indian one.’

  ‘Sergeant Patel?’

  Kevin nodded. ‘Yeah, he was running off the staircase.’

  Millie realised this was significant: Michael had always claimed that he’d just arrived on the estate and was getting out of his car when he heard Hannah scream out.

  ‘What about you, Adrian? What did you see?’

  ‘I saw the boy falling. Then I looked up and I thought I saw another man up there.’

  ‘Really?’ Millie said.

  Mrs Milligan looked mystified. ‘Are you sure you saw someone, pet? Only all the papers and that said it was an accident.’

  ‘Well I wasn’t really sure, because I only saw it quickly. But it was like there was a man or something up there.’

  ‘And what about your friends?’ Millie asked. ‘Were you the only one who thought you saw something?’


  Adrian shook his head. ‘No miss. Robert did as well. Me and him both thought we saw something.’

  15:18

  James asked if he could come to the hotel, where he’d get a much better idea what was going on, but John told him to stay put at Palm Hill in case anything unexpected cropped up.

  He crashed on his bed listening to the messages going back and forth on the two-way radio and he rang Lauren a couple of times for an update. She told him about Alan Falco losing the boys’ statements and that John and Ray McLad were driving out to his house.

  James felt down, lolling around on his own while things spiralled off in all kinds of exciting directions without him. He realised that the mission was drawing to its end and he wondered if Kyle and the others were still going to be blanking him when he got back to campus.

  Then he remembered Hannah and sent her a text saying that he was sorry about the way he’d behaved earlier on. She didn’t reply.

  15:52

  After retiring, Alan Falco and his wife had moved out to Southend on the Essex coast. John and Ray had taken forty minutes to drive out from east London.

  ‘Nice house,’ John said, as they walked up a row of steps to the front door.

  Ray pointed out the sticker in the back window of Falco’s car: Another Satisfied Customer of TARASOV PRESTIGE MOTORS.

  When nobody answered the doorbell, John went up on tiptoes and peered into the back garden. The next-door neighbour gave John a fright as he shouted over the wall.

  ‘The old boy’s a bit deaf. He’s out in the greenhouse.’

  ‘Thanks,’ John smiled.

  He opened the wooden gate into the back garden. Ray followed him across a neatly mowed lawn and into a huge greenhouse stuffed with flowers.

  ‘Mr Falco?’ John asked.

  Falco was in his late fifties, but looked older. The grey beard, open-necked shirt and braces fitted Millie’s description of him seeming like a nice old stick.

  ‘Beautiful plants,’ John said. ‘Must take a lot of work.’

  Falco smiled. ‘I have a lot of time on my hands, Mr …?’

  John left Ray to flash his warrant card. ‘I’m Inspector McLad, CIB. My colleague is Mr Jones.’

  ‘CIB,’ Falco smiled. ‘Have I been a naughty boy?’

  ‘Statements relating to the death of Will Clarke,’ McLad said, cutting straight to the point. ‘Do you remember taking any?’

  ‘Or taking bribes from Leon Tarasov to lose them?’ John added.

  The old stick’s face tightened up. John pulled a cassette recorder out of his pocket and pushed the play button.

  ‘I don’t understand how you’ve got yourself worked into this state over the car, Michael. But whatever’s behind this, you’ve got to learn to control yourself. The last time you lost your cool like this, you ended up throwing Will Clarke off a rooftop. I don’t know how you’ve got the face to come in here trying to scam me after that. You’d be doing life if I hadn’t got Falco to deal with the witness statements.’

  Falco didn’t know where to put his face.

  Ray broke into the evil smile of a man who knows he’s got his victim by the balls. ‘Mr Falco, we’ve gathered some good evidence that Michael Patel killed Will Clarke. Probably enough to secure a conviction. But if you stand in court and admit that you took money from Leon Tarasov to cover for Michael Patel, our case will be rock solid.’

  Falco realised he was being offered a deal that might save himself from spending the remainder of his life in prison. He phrased his words carefully, in case John or Ray were covertly recording the conversation.

  ‘Hypothetically, if there was a way I could help you two gents, I’d want complete immunity from prosecution. Not just for this, but for any other stuff that came to light as a result of a CIB investigation into corruption at Palm Hill police station.’

  16:18

  Millie Kentner and Greg Jackson headed into Palm Hill police station. They were confident that they’d gathered all the evidence they needed:

   (1) The two boys who claimed they’d seen a man on the roof.

   (2) Another boy who’d bumped into Michael Patel coming off the staircase.

   (3) Michael’s suspicious handling of Will’s obviously dead body.

   (4) Recorded conversations where Michael and Leon openly talked about the murder.

   (5) Most importantly, Alan Falco’s willingness to testify that Leon had paid him to destroy the statements taken from the boys after Will’s death.

  The pair headed up to the community policing office on the second floor and found Michael standing by the photocopier.

  ‘Michael,’ Millie called, breaking into a friendly smile. ‘Would you mind stepping into my office for a moment? I’ve got Greg Jackson from CIB with me.’

  ‘James Holmes and CIB,’ Michael groaned. ‘That’s just what I need after the day I’ve had.’

  ‘What happened to your nose?’ Millie asked, as she led the sergeant towards her office.

  ‘Walked into a door.’

  Millie sat in her chair as Greg pulled a set of handcuffs off his belt and spoke.

  ‘Michael Patel, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Will Clarke. You do not have to say anything, but whatever you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you …’

  Michael looked aghast as Millie checked the time on her watch. Over at Palm Hill, two uniformed officers were driving on to the car lot to arrest Leon Tarasov.

  36. HEART

  20:30

  James and Dave’s stuff was going back to CHERUB campus in the grey surveillance van. John was helping James carry everything downstairs when Liza Tarasov bumped into him on the balcony.

  ‘What’s going on, James?’

  James was holding a portable TV. ‘The cops arrested Dave at the same time Pete and Leon got nicked, so I’ve got to go back to the children’s home.’

  ‘Permanently?’

  ‘I guess,’ James nodded solemnly. ‘My social worker just blew her stack. I was only allowed to live with Dave if we behaved ourselves, but we’ve been here less than a month and we’ve both been arrested. Dave’s already on parole, so he won’t be coming out in a hurry and I can’t live here on my own.’

  ‘That’s really sad,’ Liza said sympathetically. ‘It was nice having you two around. You livened the place up.’

  The TV was straining at James’ arms, so he put it down on the ground between his legs. ‘I think I upset Hannah this morning. I sent her a text, but she didn’t reply.’

  Liza nodded. ‘Hannah phoned me. I got the whole story and you’d better not be cheating on her. She’s been through a lot this past year.’

  James shrugged. ‘She’ll be better off with me out of her life.’

  ‘I think she still likes you.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’ll be in a children’s home. A few weeks after that they’ll ship me off to a foster home and that could be anywhere. It’s better just to leave it: you know, fond memory and that.’

  John emerged from the flat, holding a sports bag filled with Dave’s clothes.

  ‘Come on, James. Help me out here.’

  James looked at Liza and felt sad. ‘I’d better go. Tell Hannah that I said I’ll always remember her, OK?’

  Liza nodded as James picked up the TV. ‘I will.’

  ‘So is Max about?’ James asked. ‘Do you reckon I should stick my head in your flat and say goodbye to him?’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Liza said. ‘It’s a nuthouse in there. Max is sobbing his little heart out about Uncle Leon and Pete getting nicked. Auntie Sacha’s really upset, because bloody Sonya started a big row with her, blaming Uncle Leon for everything.’

  James smiled a little. ‘That explains why you’re out here. I’m sorry about your uncle.’

  ‘Sonya’s right about one thing,’ Liza shrugged. ‘Uncle Leon’s like Teflon: nothing ever sticks to him. He’ll probably be home in a few hours.’

  ‘I hope so,’ James lie
d. ‘Anyway, I’d better carry this downstairs before I do myself an injury.’

  ‘Yeah, later James,’ Liza said, as he waddled towards the staircase holding the TV.

  Thursday 00:02

  James was heading up the M11 in the van when his mobile rang: Hannah calling. He stared at the display, picturing Hannah on her bed, lit up by lava lamps with her orange toenails. He wondered what kind of mood she’d be in and what she wanted to say, but he didn’t answer. When the phone stopped ringing, James slid off the battery, pulled out the SIM card and snapped it in two.

  ‘That’s another phone number I don’t have to remember,’ James said, grinning at John but feeling sad inside.

  John nodded, without looking away from the gloomy lanes of traffic. His eyes looked puffy, like he needed a good night’s sleep.

  James slid a nylon wallet out the back of his jeans and ripped the Velcro apart. He went down the little zip-up pocket, took out the SIM card he used on campus and slotted it into his phone. After turning it on and looking at the intro message – which Lauren had changed to U*Suck months earlier – he flicked through the saved numbers and gave himself a shock: Bruce, Cal, Connor, Gab, Kerry, Kyle, Lauren, Mo, Shak.

  Apart from Lauren, nobody on the list was speaking to him. He flicked up to Kerry’s number and thought about sending her a text. The kiss had worked two nights earlier, so he figured he should try. But what should he write?

  He typed SORRY, deleted it, then typed it again. After deleting again he got halfway through I APOLOGISE before deciding that it sounded too pompous. James wanted to tell Kerry how she made him feel special. How she wasn’t the fittest or most beautiful girl in the world, but that he wanted to be with her more than anyone else.

  James realised what he really wanted to say and typed it out: KERRY, I LOVE U.

  He spent a full minute with his thumb over the send button before he felt brave enough to press it.