She stared at him in disbelief. ‘A bad situation? It’s an impossible situation. You heard that scumbag. When we don’t pay him, he’ll go to the police. We need to own up before he drops us in it. It’ll go in our favour.’
‘Gemma. Listen to me. It won’t come to that. I’ll pay him what I can, and I’ll make him understand that it’s all we have.’
Her face became suddenly grave. ‘Wait a minute. Pay him what you can? What exactly do you mean?’
‘Well, we’ve a bit put by, and—’
‘Hold on. You’re talking about our savings? You want to give away all of our savings?’
‘I don’t think we have a choice.’
‘No. We worked our fingers to the bone for that money, Scott. Daniel’s benefits are in there. Some of that money belongs to him.’
‘I know. But this will be for him. It’ll be for all of us.’
‘It’s our holiday fund. Our Christmas money.’
‘Then we’ll have a smaller Christmas this year, and a holiday at home next year.’
‘And when the car breaks down? Or something else goes wrong?’
‘We’ll manage. I’ll ask Gavin if he can throw more work my way, or I’ll get a weekend job. I’ll build up our savings again.’
She looked at him long and hard, and then she shook her head.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘You know what really upsets me about all this? It’s not about what you did to protect Daniel. It’s not even about how you got rid of the body. What’s really pissing me off now is that you’re still trying to make all the decisions by yourself. This is our money you’re talking about, Scott. Ours. That makes this a joint decision.’
He knew she was right. With primeval emotions running high, he’d reverted to primeval behaviour.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I was just—’
‘I know what you were trying to do. But just try to bear in mind that this affects all of us.’
He showed her a smile of surrender. ‘All right. So what’s our decision?’
She looked down at the floor, then raised her head again. ‘I think it’s not going to work. I think that Ronan Cobb is evil, and that he’s not going to rest until he gets his twenty-five grand.’ She paused. ‘That said, I don’t know what else we can do.’
‘So, do I pay him what we’ve got?’
‘Yes. On one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘That you don’t let him take your life in part-payment.’
Scott couldn’t find another smile. The thought had already occurred to him.
‘Done,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘And just remember we’re all in this together. Speaking of which, there’s another member of the family you need to make it up with.’
Scott hugged and kissed her, then went out to Daniel’s bedroom. He knocked and entered. Daniel was sitting on his bed. Scott approached cautiously and sat next to him, exactly as he had done the other day after Daniel had been attacked by the gang of schoolboys.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Not really. I’m a bit upset.’
‘I can see that. And I can understand why.’
‘You lied to me.’
‘Yes, I did. And I’m sorry. I was just trying to help you.’
‘I don’t feel helped.’
‘No, but that’s what I was doing. That man. Joey Cobb. He was dead. I didn’t want you to know that. If I’d told you the truth, you would have felt terrible, wouldn’t you?’
Daniel nodded. ‘I suppose so. But . . .’
‘But what, Daniel?’
‘It was Adam-9. He had to help you. He can shoot out a long arm from his briefcase. Remember? Remember when he used it on the Quark Monster? He was tied up, but he managed to reach the button on his briefcase—’
‘Yes, Daniel. I remember that one.’
‘And that’s what happened. Adam-9 saved you.’
‘Yes. Yes, you—he did. And I’m really grateful.’
‘But I didn’t know the man got killed.’
‘No. I know you didn’t.’
‘It makes me sad.’
‘Yes.’
‘And his brother, too. Ronan? Is that his name?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s sad. And very angry.’
‘He is. But he’ll get over it.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I’ve just discussed it with your mother, and—’
‘You were shouting. Arguing.’
‘Yes, we were. But we’ve sorted it out now. We’re fine again. I’m going to get some money tomorrow and give it to Ronan, and he’ll be happy again.’
‘He won’t come back here, will he? He scares me.’
‘No, he won’t come back. I’ll make sure of it.’
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own, very different thoughts.
‘Can I ask you a favour?’ Scott said.
Daniel nodded. ‘Of course you can.’
‘Can I ask you not to talk to anyone about this?’
‘About Ronan?’
‘Yes. And also about his brother, and what happened to him when we got out of the lift.’
‘I’m not supposed to tell lies.’
‘I’m not asking you to lie. I just want you not to talk about it to anyone. That’s not the same as a lie, is it? If you’re not talking about it, you can’t be lying.’
Daniel thought some more. ‘Okay. I’ll try.’
‘Thank you, Daniel.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Scott went to place his hand on Daniel’s back, but paused. He sensed that his son didn’t want human contact right now.
He stood up and walked towards the door.
‘Dad?’
‘Yes?’
‘Is it true what the man said? Did you really chop his brother up into tiny little pieces?’
Scott stared into his son’s eyes. He would have preferred not to give an answer, because that would be better than lying. Practise what you preach.
‘No. Of course not. I think he must have got broken up in the bin lorry.’
Daniel said nothing more, but Scott felt less than worthless.
29
Wednesday morning in the briefing room. Seated around the long table, an array of detectives who didn’t seem to have a clue what was going on. Hannah could feel herself sinking into despondency.
‘Are you seriously telling me,’ she said, ‘that not a single person in the whole of that block of flats caught even the merest glimpse of Joey Cobb entering or leaving the building?’
The DC who had broken the news seemed to shrivel in his chair. ‘Well, not exactly. It’s more accurate to say that nobody is owning up to seeing him.’
‘Amounts to the same bloody thing, Simon. Unless you’ve got some foolproof way of telling us who might be lying, we may as well not have spent all of our time interviewing the occupants of Erskine Court, for all the good it’s done us.’ She paused while she allowed her blood pressure to return to normal. ‘What about the taxi driver?’
Somewhat tentatively, another detective spoke up. ‘I spoke to him again. He remembers very little about the conversation he had with Joey. Most of what he does remember was about football.’
‘Great. So where does that leave us?’
‘We’ve widened the search,’ said Marcel. ‘It’s perfectly possible that no one we spoke to in Erskine Court was lying. Maybe they really didn’t see him. We know he went in there, but maybe he came out again, just like Barrington Daley said. That cell mast signal covers a pretty wide radius. Cobb could have been killed in any of a number of buildings near the flats.’
Hannah knew he was right, of course, but it did nothing to lighten her mood. A larger search area was bad news. It meant more buildings to visit, more people to interview. With zero chance of gaining additional resources to work on the murder of a victim that many saw as unworthy of their attention, it seemed to her that any hop
es of solving this case were fading fast.
She wished now that she’d taken more painkillers before the meeting. Her whole body seemed to be throbbing to a steady beat. She had noticed how the eyes of her fellow officers were constantly drawn to the swelling on her forehead.
‘What about Cobb’s associates?’ she asked.
‘We’re talking to them again, but it’s not looking good. Some refuse to cooperate. Those who do speak to us are probably lying through their teeth. Others have gone into hiding.’
‘Why? Guilty consciences? You think we should put more effort into finding them?’
Marcel looked doubtful. ‘I think they’re just scared. The word going around is that this is a gang thing. Someone is out to upset a very big apple cart. People don’t want to be around when it all comes crashing down.’
‘But what they don’t know is that we’ve got Cobb’s money and drugs. That tells me it’s probably not gang related.’
‘Unless that’s exactly what they want us to believe.’
Hannah raised her eyebrows. ‘You think they’re that clever? Most of the pushers I’ve met think IQ is a quiz show.’
‘True, but there are exceptions.’
‘I don’t buy it. These are greedy bastards. I don’t care how smart they are, put twenty-five grand in front of them and it’s like showing the ring to Gollum. And even if one of them does have an IQ in triple figures, why would he think that tossing away all that cash was the most obvious way of throwing us off his scent? What kind of imaginary perpetrator was he hoping to plant in our minds? Someone who quite happily murders and dismembers his victims but has qualms about taking their money? Who the hell fits a profile like that?’
‘But you still want us to follow up on Cobb’s associates?’
‘Absolutely. They were a part of his life. They knew his routine, where he went, who he spoke to. Stay on their backs.’ She surveyed the team. ‘Anything else? Give me something positive, guys, because this is starting to look bleaker than Marcel’s love life.’
She got a laugh, but also hesitation in volunteering information. Eventually, Trisha Lacey raised a finger.
‘CCTV,’ she said. ‘We’ve pulled in footage from the waste tip, and also from cameras lining the route indicated by the cell mast data.’
‘Good. And?’
‘We’re analysing it as quickly as we can.’ Trisha tapped the keys on the computer in front of her, and some grainy images appeared on a large wall monitor. It showed a long line of cars. ‘This is the view at the entrance to the tip. Sunday is one of their busiest days, so we’ve got a lot of vehicles to check.’
‘What about inside the premises? Can we see people getting out of their cars?’
‘Afraid not. This is all we have.’
Hannah sighed. ‘Okay, keep at it. I want you to talk to the owners of every single vehicle that visited that site. One of them has to be our killer.’
30
£4,327.52.
That’s how much they had in their savings account.
Scott had checked. First thing he did after arriving at the garage that Wednesday morning.
It came as a shock. He’d thought they had more. Not a lot more, admittedly, but a rounder, fuller figure. Something a little less undernourished.
Ronan wasn’t going to like it. There was no way to dress up four thousand pounds to look like twenty-five.
Shit.
But facts were facts. What more could he do? They owned nothing of any real worth. Their biggest possession was the car, but that was an old rust-bucket, and an essential one at that. He wasn’t about to risk asking Gemma to sell off her jewellery. Given her current state of mind, she’d probably castrate him.
He worried about it all morning. Throwing himself into his work didn’t help. He saw every tyre pressure as 4327.52. Every car had travelled 4327.52 miles. Every invoice he prepared was for £4,327.52.
Shit and arseholes.
If only he had listened to Gemma and hung on to the money. Maybe the drugs too. Just for a while, until the dust had settled. It would have made life so much easier. He should have known that someone would come looking for it. Hauls like that don’t get written off. Gangsters aren’t known for their devil-may-care attitude. They always want what they see as theirs.
If he’d kept the backpack, he could have simply handed it over to Ronan, and all would be well now. He wouldn’t be fretting over the paltry contents of his savings account.
But there was no use crying over spilt milk.
Spilt blood was another matter.
He had put his family in danger. Perhaps they still were, despite all his reassurances to them.
But no, he thought. It doesn’t do to think like that. Be positive. Talk to Ronan, man to man. Make him see that you’re on your uppers, that you have nothing left to give. Appeal to his humanity. He’ll understand.
No, he won’t. He’ll take one look at your measly four grand and then he’ll kill you. And after that he’ll go after your family. This isn’t going to work.
Shit and arseholes and bollocks.
Scott continued to work. Continued to suffer.
When it came to his lunch break, he told Gavin that he had to dash to the bank. He tried to make it sound like a casual errand, but he felt as though he was establishing an alibi. Gavin munched on his sandwich, apparently oblivious.
When he arrived at the bank, Scott stood outside for a while. This felt so wrong. He was in his oil-stained overalls, but he thought he might as well be wearing a black-and-white striped shirt and a mask.
He took a deep breath and went in. At this time of day, there was a lengthy queue. As he waited his turn, he had to fight to keep his eyes from straying to the security cameras.
Stop it, he told himself. You’re doing nothing wrong. Nothing to feel guilty about.
The cashier was young and smiley, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. When he told her he wanted to withdraw all the money from his account, he expected her to drop the affability and begin setting off alarms. But she didn’t. She simply packaged up the money in an envelope, handed it over and wished him a pleasant afternoon.
Just like that. His life savings, and she couldn’t even be bothered to question it.
Which said it all about the magnitude of the sum involved. Water off a duck’s back to them.
Ronan’s going to feel the same way, he thought. The man probably has more than this in his back pocket.
Be positive. Beg for mercy if you have to, but don’t give up before you’ve even tried.
He left the bank and went back to work, the envelope tucked into a pocket beneath his overalls. Throughout the afternoon he kept pressing his hand to the bulge to make sure it was still there, that virtually every penny he had worked for hadn’t simply vanished.
To the bank it might be nothing. To Ronan it might be nothing.
To Scott and his family it was everything.
31
Because Daniel had never seen this bus driver before, he tried to make a good impression. He held up his pass right in front of him and said, ‘Hello, Mr Bus Driver. My name’s Daniel Timpson and I need to get off this bus when we get to Askew Drive, opposite Asda.’ His mum had told him to introduce himself that way, because drivers were usually helpful. This one wasn’t. This one just shook his head and scowled, making Daniel wonder if he’d said the wrong thing.
He craned his neck in search of a seat. He liked to sit at the front, but those benches were occupied. It was pretty full downstairs, but he never ventured upstairs – not since that time he was teased by some girls.
He moved along the aisle. Only one unoccupied seat. Well, actually it was occupied by a woman’s bag, but he knew that bags don’t get their own seats because they don’t buy tickets.
‘Excuse me,’ Daniel said. ‘Do you mind if I sit here?’
He put it as politely as he could, but the woman glared at him as if he’d just spat on her.
She picked up the bag, placed
it on her lap, sighed heavily.
Daniel lowered himself onto the now-vacant seat. He tried as hard as he could to obey The Rule, but he was large and it was a tight space, and when he did accidentally brush against her, she tutted loudly and shuffled closer to the window.
Daniel didn’t get his Adam-9 comic out. He was too worried about knocking against the woman again. Instead, he sat in silence for the whole journey and thought about what his life was like now.
It made him miserable.
For one thing, it hurt that his father had lied. And it wasn’t just a little lie, not like that time he had an injection and his dad said it wouldn’t hurt and it did. This lie was about saying a man was alive when he wasn’t. Joseph Cobb was dead all along, and his dad had known it.
And if he could lie about that, then maybe he’d also lied about cutting Joseph Cobb into tiny pieces. He’d told Daniel he hadn’t done it, but that’s not what he’d said when Ronan Cobb had asked him.
He didn’t want to believe that his dad could do something like that.
And then there was the money.
His dad had said he was going to give Ronan money so that he’d never come back and frighten them again.
But what money? Daniel’s parents were always complaining that they didn’t have any. His dad had said the same thing to Ronan (unless he was lying again). So where would they get it from?
Ronan had talked about twenty-five grand. Daniel didn’t know how much that was, exactly, but he was convinced it was a lot.
There was also the bad feeling at home.
Mum and Dad snapping at each other. Both of them snapping at him. He couldn’t recall a time when it had been as bad as this. Everyone angry and upset.
He just wanted it all to go back to the way it was.
Why hadn’t he walked up the stairs of Erskine Court like he always did, instead of listening to his dad? And why did Joseph Cobb have to get into their lift?
When Daniel rose to leave the bus, the woman next to him slammed her bag back onto his seat. He felt awful for making her so annoyed.
As the bus squealed to a halt and the doors opened, Daniel turned to issue his customary thanks, but the driver stared straight ahead, not acknowledging his presence. Daniel closed his mouth without a word, then stepped down onto the pavement. Behind him, the doors slapped shut so quickly they almost trapped his briefcase.
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