‘I think Ricky might have seen it,’ she breathed. ‘He’s been acting so strangely lately, I’m worried he might do something crazy.’
Matt swallowed hard. So far the attack on Murray had been kept out of the media, but it wouldn’t be long.
‘Lucy,’ he said, wondering how much it would be wise to tell her, ‘the address given on that site has led to an attack. There’s a man in hospital suffering burns so severe it’s doubtful he’ll make it through the night.’
He watched as Lucy’s face drained of all colour and she seemed to sway on her feet. He instinctively raised a hand to catch her but she leaned instead on the door frame, angling her body away from him.
‘Was it Ricky?’
Matt felt a second of relief that her concern for her son was at odds with the idea of her being a suspect, then thought about her words.
‘I would doubt it,’ he said slowly, then unwittingly echoed Dailey, ‘let’s not jump to conclusions. Ricky’s fourteen, the likelihood is he has friends you don’t even know about. He’s probably holed up somewhere, sulking.’
Lucy shook her head, her hair whipping round her face with the force of the movement.
‘No, there’s something wrong, Matt, I can feel it. Will you help me look for him?’
‘I’m on another case, Lucy. The boy’s still missing…’
‘So is mine!’ Lucy looked near hysteria now and Matt swallowed down the truth she wouldn’t want to hear. Compared to a child the age of Benjamin Armstrong, missing teenagers were much lower down the priority scale, for the simple fact that the majority of teenagers went missing because they wanted to. Therefore they were classed as at medium rather than high risk, and with the attention so firmly on Benjamin’s disappearance, Matt doubted that Ricky would be considered a priority at least until later tonight. Chances were he would come back of his own accord.
Unless Lucy was right and it was him who had attacked Murray. If he hadn’t been seen since the morning, he might have had the time to get there.
‘You don’t even know if Ricky saw the post,’ he said, reassuring himself as much as her. ‘Does he have internet access at his nan’s?’
‘On his phone.’
‘Right, I’ll call it in,’ Matt said, making the decision, but Lucy’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
‘No, please. What if it was him, Matt? What if he saw the address and attacked Prince? God knows, it was my first thought.’
Matt felt sick.
‘It wasn’t Prince,’ he said, his voice so low that he saw Lucy lean forward to hear him. ‘Whoever posted that address was wrong. The man that was attacked wasn’t Prince. He was in a witness protection programme; somehow the two got confused.’
Lucy’s hand tightened on his forearm and he thought for a moment she would fall. Her eyes were looking up at him, shining in the dim light. Pleading with him for a comfort he knew he couldn’t give.
‘Find him,’ she whispered.
Just as she had eight years ago. Matt only took a heartbeat to make his decision. There was nothing else he could realistically do on the Armstrong case until some fresh information turned up. He put an arm round Lucy and guided her back into the house. Even under her thick coat he could feel her trembling.
‘Call your mother,’ he ordered, ‘you’re in no fit state to be alone. I’ll need the addresses of anywhere Ricky is likely to be.’
‘There was a girlfriend,’ Lucy blurted. ‘Misty, or something.’
Matt nodded. He sat with her until a white-faced Danielle arrived and managed in spite of her anxiety to give Matt a thoroughly disapproving glare at the sight of his arm around Lucy’s shoulders.
As he left, armed with Tyler’s address and the numbers of a few other school friends, he looked back over his shoulder at Lucy, now clutching a cup of coffee in shaking fingers and hoping for her sake she was wrong about Ricky. If he found the boy, and any evidence he had attacked Murray, then he was honour-bound to arrest him.
He doubted Lucy could cope with losing another son, and prayed to anyone that might be listening that he wouldn’t have to bring this one home in handcuffs.
The boy that answered the door at his next stop – presumably Tyler – looked like a prime candidate for future wearing of handcuffs however; in fact, Matt wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few ASBOs attached to his name already.
‘What do you want?’ the boy asked, recognition dawning in his eyes.
‘Ah, you’re the boy from the newsagents aren’t you? The one stealing booze with Ricky?’
The boy looked panicked and went to shut the door only to find Matt’s foot was very firmly wedged inside it. Scott may be the ‘people’s copper’ dishing out sympathy and charm, but when it came to dealing with gobshites like Tyler, Matt was firmly on his own ground.
‘Are your parents at home?’
‘I live with my dad.’
‘Well, is he at home?’ The smile Matt gave him came out as more of a snarl. He really didn’t have the time or patience for this.
‘No.’ Tyler pushed the door against Matt’s foot. Matt promptly pushed it back at him, causing the boy to step back and Matt followed him inside quickly, shutting the door behind him.
‘Guess I’ll just have to talk to you then won’t I?’
The boy glared at him, defiance oozing from every pore.
‘Police harassment, this is. I’m a minor; you can’t just come barging in and intimidating me.’
Matt ignored him, wrinkling his nose.
‘Is that cannabis I can smell?’ When the boy looked as if he was about to bolt Matt raised a hand and softened his tone as he spoke.
‘I just want to ask you a few questions about your friend Ricky, okay? No one has seen him all day and his mum’s a bit worried about him.’
Tyler looked surprised, then shrugged.
‘I haven’t seen him. Last I heard he was suspended from that posh school he goes to and staying at his nan’s.’
‘You didn’t have any plans to meet?’
Tyler looked uncomfortable, then something behind Matt obviously caught the boy’s attention. Matt turned to see a girl coming down the stairs. In spite of her short skirt and badly dyed hair she looked very young.
‘I’m his girlfriend, well sort of,’ she said, shooting Tyler a funny look. ‘I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday.’
‘You must be Misty?’
‘Mitzi,’ the girl snapped, obviously offended. ‘Like the one from Hollyoaks who looks like Cheryl Cole?’
Matt had no idea what she was talking about.
‘Did you have any plans to meet up today, or this week at any time? You said you were his girlfriend.’
Mitzi looked uncomfortable, pausing on the bottom step and twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. She had Minnie Mouse stickers on her nails.
‘Well, I’m kind of going out with Tyler now.’
Matt raised his eyebrows. Now that could be a plausible motive for a teenage boy to go walkabout.
‘I see. How did Ricky react to this?’
The girl just shrugged and started chewing on her hair. Matt looked at Tyler, who looked down at his shoes.
‘We haven’t told him yet. Like I said, we haven’t seen him.’
‘Do you go on Facebook?’ Matt asked abruptly. Tyler looked confused again but the girl looked up at him guiltily.
‘You mean the page about his brother? I showed him it, last week, and he got angry. Like, really angry.’
Angry enough to seek revenge on his brother’s killer? Perhaps Lucy was right. As much as the idea of a fourteen-year-old boy pouring lighter fuel over a grown man seemed ludicrous, it was no more far-fetched than his assumption that it had been Lucy herself.
‘Did he indicate that he was going to do anything about it?’
Mitzi shook her head, while Tyler looked interested.
‘What’s he done? He’s not just ran away has he? You think he’s done something.
’
‘I’m just trying to get an idea of how he might be feeling, so we can work out where he might be,’ Matt lied. Tyler looked disappointed, obviously hoping for something juicier. Matt sighed. He had got all there was to get from these too.
‘Is there anywhere he might be?’
The two exchanged looks, then simultaneously shook their heads. For the first time Matt thought they might be lying.
‘If there’s anything you think you know, you have to tell me.’
They stared at him, close-lipped.
‘Okay. Well if you hear from him, tell him his mum is very worried about him, okay?’
Mitzi looked like she was about to burst into tears.
‘I hope he’s okay,’ she sniffed. Tyler shuffled his feet.
‘I’ll leave you my number.’ Matt pulled out a card. ‘When your dad gets back, I want you to get him to ring me.’
‘He’s at the pub. He’ll be pissed when he gets in.’ Tyler said it with indifference, but Matt sensed a hurt behind the words and felt sorry for the kid. There but for the grace of God and all that.
He paused before leaving and held out a hand to Tyler, palm up. The boy looked confused.
‘Pass me whatever you’ve been smoking, and I won’t arrest you for it, okay?’
Tyler looked mutinous for a moment before giving in, rummaging in the pocket of his sweatpants and passing Matt a plastic baggie filled with marijuana without meeting his eye.
‘Thank you. Remember, if you think of anything else, call me.’ How many times had he said that today?
A ring round of Ricky’s school friends turned up nothing, and the address Lucy had given him for Ricky’s paternal grandmother – ‘though he hasn’t seen her for years’ – now belonged to a young French couple. He would have to call it in. Chances were Ricky was wandering the streets somewhere – a significant number of teenagers reported missing were found doing just that – and at least night patrol officers could keep an eye out for him.
As he drove back to Lucy he took a small detour and drove past the Armstrong house. The lights were on in the lounge, curtains still open, and Matt could just see Mr Armstrong through the nets. Sitting alone.
He reached Lucy’s and knocked lightly on the front door and Lucy opened it, nodded and turned, back to her mother who she was obviously in the middle of arguing with.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t check on him all day!’
‘Well,’ Danielle responded as Matt stepped inside and closed the door, ‘he wouldn’t have been at my house in the first place if it wasn’t for you.’
Lucy looked crushed, and Matt found himself getting angry at Danielle.
‘Mrs Wyatt? I hardly think Lucy needs to hear that right now.’ Danielle opened her mouth in indignation and then shut it again, clearly deciding it was better not to say whatever she had been about to. Matt turned to Lucy, whose face fell as she realised Matt had no news to give her.
‘There’ll be someone from uniform out to take a statement, and we’ll get extra officers and PCOs out on night patrol. It would help if we knew what he was wearing?’
Lucy looked at Danielle, who sighed.
‘I could go home and check his things.’
‘That would be helpful,’ Matt nodded. Lucy looked relieved to see her mother leave.
Matt made himself scarce in the kitchen while a young WPC arrived to take Lucy’s statement. She looked curiously at Matt as she was leaving.
‘Are you okay, sir? Still no word on the Armstrong boy?’
‘No.’ His admission felt like a failure. He was becoming a bad luck charm, much as he had thought that morning when the Armstrongs had pulled away from him in horror. Now he was linked to yet another missing child. He inclined his head towards the lounge.
‘Don’t let this be brushed to one side until tomorrow,’ he said to the WPC, ‘there’s reason to think the boy was very upset.’ He didn’t mention the Murray attack, or Prince, and wondered how long it would be before the young officer made the connection.
‘No, sir. I’ll go and talk to the grandmother now. Are you staying with her?’
Matt nodded, looked over at Lucy who was sitting staring at nothing.
‘I don’t think she should be left alone right now,’ he said softly. The WPC nodded and made to leave, pausing to smile at Matt.
‘She’s a lucky woman,’ she said with a blush. Matt watched her go with a hollow smile. He didn’t think Lucy was feeling very ‘lucky’ right now.
Sitting down next to her he took her hand between his, finding her skin cold to the touch.
‘He’ll turn up, Lucy; kids his age usually do.’
Lucy didn’t answer him, but leaned against him a little, so that he could smell the trace of shampoo in her hair. Coconut, and something fruity perhaps.
‘I’m sorry I left that message today.’
‘Don’t worry about that now,’ he said, then added after a moment, ‘I understand why you did.’
‘It was too late anyway,’ she said, her voice dull, ‘he’s already gone.’
The way she said the word ‘gone’ sounded so final that Matt reached for her face, tipping her jaw up to look at him fully, his hands gentle.
‘This isn’t Jack. Odds are he’ll turn up safe and sound.’ His words sounded woefully inadequate. Teenagers going on the missing list for a few hours was hardly unusual, but in the wake of the day’s events it didn’t look good for Ricky right now.
‘Do you really think he would be capable of something like that?’
She paused, and he let go of her face and entwined his hands with hers. He had never been one for casual affection, but when he was near Lucy it felt somehow natural that they should be touching. She looked down at their linked fingers as she spoke.
‘Not really, but I just have this awful feeling he’s in trouble. And why not? I wanted to go round there, you know, when I saw that address and thought it was Prince’s. It was all I could do not to, even though I was worried about Ricky. It was all I could think about last week; finding out where that monster was living.’
‘I know. That’s why you agreed to go out with me, remember?’ His attempt at humour was rewarded with a weak smile and she snuggled closer to him. They sat in silence, Matt drinking in the smell of her and savouring the feeling of her body curving into his. He wondered what would happen to them when it was all over. If it could ever be all over.
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course,’ he said.
‘Do you believe in the death penalty?’
He hadn’t been expecting that. But the look in her eyes was deadly serious, so Matt gave her question some thought before answering, choosing his words carefully.
‘I’m not sure. I deal with a murder case, a paedophile ring, and I think yes, kill the bastards. But I’m not sure it works as a deterrent. It’s academic anyway, considering we don’t have a death penalty here.’ He had the awful feeling she was seeking reassurance for something. For what she had wanted to do? Or what she may have already done?
‘I never used to. I even wrote letters for Amnesty International once, when I was younger,’ she confessed. ‘But now, I wish we had it here. Eight years isn’t enough.’
‘I know.’
‘I can’t help it, Matt. Whoever set fire to that man – well, it’s awful – but mostly I’m upset that it wasn’t Terry Prince.’
Matt squeezed her hands, unwilling to get into a conversation that could reveal things about her that he didn’t want to know.
‘Lucy…’ He meant it as a warning, but she looked up at him, their faces seeming very close and then she leaned towards him, her eyes on his mouth, and kissed him. The brush of her lips against his was light, tender even, and Matt couldn’t help thinking it felt as though she was kissing him goodbye.
Ricky curled into a ball, waiting for a sleep that wouldn’t come, staring at the shadows the darkness made, the half-formed shapes that echoed the fears that gnawed at his consci
ousness.
There was no going back from this, he knew that now. What he had done this day was unforgivable, and yet he had never really wanted to hurt anybody but only to make it better. To make the pain stop. Now he’d just messed it all up even more.
His mum was going to hate him. Again.
Ricky lay on the floor on his coat, watching the lights of the street lamps twinkling in the window like stars, and wished he was somewhere else. At home would be good.
He looked away from the lights and smiled as he saw a pair of blue eyes regarding him serenely from the corner of the room. A small hand stretched out to brush his cheek. Jack.
‘You’re back,’ Ricky said, feeling a sudden rush of hope. Maybe things would be all right after all.
Lucy explored Matt’s mouth slowly with her own, flinching away when he reached for her, holding back just enough that she could stay in control of the kiss and of her own reactions to him. She needed this, needed a way to pull herself back together, but she needed also to be in control. God knew she was in control of little else right now.
Her tongue danced with his and again he tried to reach for her but she pressed his hands back into his lap with her own, brushing her fingertips over his groin as she did so and feeling him already hard for her, already wanting. The knowledge made her stomach tighten and she kissed him harder, gripping his hands tight in hers, pushing him back against the cushions. An image of Ethan, earlier, on this very couch came to mind and she jumped back from Matt as if his mouth had burned hers. He blinked, confused, then looked contrite, as if he had been the one to make the moves on her.
‘I kissed Ethan earlier,’ she said, not realising she was going to confess that until she did. Matt blinked, and a fleeting expression of anger crossed his features before he schooled them into submission and gave her his impassive ‘cop face’.
‘You never cease to surprise me,’ he said drily. When Lucy reached for his hand again he didn’t pull his away but he didn’t react either. Just looked at her, waiting for her to talk.
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