Brotherhood

by David Beckler

  “Is that what they teach you to say when you join the police?” Maria gave a grim smile. “I suppose you’ll treat him with kid gloves, in case he sues you.”

  “Mrs McLaughlin, I know you’re upset and I’m sorry for your loss but I assure you, we will investigate the death of your son thoroughly. Nobody will get special treatment, for whatever reason. My colleague will give you a lift.” Siobhan left before she said anything she’d regret.

  As Byron forced his way through the traffic, he realised he was driving too fast and took his foot off the accelerator. With six points on his licence, he couldn’t risk getting any more. An unaccustomed feeling of anxiety had gripped him since he’d spoken to Philip, reviving unwelcome memories of his youth.

  “…on Thursday, Tony Blair will become the first British Prime Minister to address the Irish Parliament…” the presenter announced over the radio.

  “Good for him,” Byron muttered and switched it off. Despite Louisa’s conviction, he still didn’t trust the too-smooth politician. He put a CD in the slot. The mournful voice of Nina Simone filled the car and the tension across his shoulders eased.

  The taxi he’d ordered sat outside his house in Chiswick. He signalled the driver to wait, ran to the front door, and let himself in. He walked into the kitchen, and a delighted yell greeted him.

  “Daddy!”

  He scooped up the small figure in his arms. “How’s my big girl today? You been taking care of Mummy?”

  She nodded, wearing a big grin.

  He lifted her up and swung her round, her squeals of excitement, music to his ears.

  Behind their daughter, Louisa mouthed, “Do you want a coffee?”

  He shook his head and kissed his wife before lowering Lilly.

  “The overnight bag’s packed and I’ve made sandwiches for the journey. Do you know when you’ll be back?”

  “A few days, maybe.” He saw the concern in her eyes and tried to lighten things. “Let’s see it as an opportunity to get to know our daughter’s cousins.” He patted Lilly’s hair before stroking Louisa’s stomach, barely showing the new life growing in her. “And his, or hers.”

  “Did Philip say what the problem was?”

  “Not really.” He looked away and put Lilly on the floor. Louisa wasn’t fooled, he could never lie to her. “He’s having trouble with some other lads at college.”

  “Why can’t the college deal with it?”

  “It’s the kind of problem a quiet word would sort out.”

  “Surely his dad—” Louisa blushed. “Sorry Byron, I didn’t mean...”

  Relieved to get off the hook, he hugged them both and rushed out to the waiting taxi. As the car wove through the evening traffic, he took out his mobile and rang Adam again. As the phone rang out, his anxiety grew and, although he tried to tell himself he was worrying unnecessarily, the nagging fear wouldn’t go away.

  By the time Siobhan returned to the station, she’d become reconciled to her disappointment. The walk to Liam’s college had ended in frustration; the pupils had already left for the day, scuppering any hopes of saving time by interviewing them all in one place. Still considering her next steps, she made her way into the incident room. Everyone fell silent and regarded her expectantly. Eddy’s wasn’t there, but she decided to start without him.

  “As you might have heard, we’ve identified the young man whose body we found in the wheelie bin. He’s Liam McLaughlin, a seventeen-year-old student.” She scanned the officers before her. “I don’t have to tell you that none of this information leaves this room.”

  Eddy’s voice drifted into the room filling her with a sense of relief. He made a gesture of apology and closed the door behind him.

  “Eddy, any problems with Mrs McLaughlin?” She couldn’t read his expression but he shook his head. A hand rose. “Yes, Debbie?”

  “I heard the lad’s Ritchie McLaughlin’s nephew. Do we intend to look at him? There’s a good chance he might know something about it.”

  A few muttered “too rights” confirmed this wasn’t an isolated opinion. Not for the first time, Siobhan rued her lack of local knowledge.

  “We’ll follow the evidence. I gather Ritchie McLaughlin has a reputation, but the evidence we have is that Liam spent Sunday with friends. I want to identify and speak to those friends. Eddy, can you go through Liam’s address book and assign the interviews?”

  “Boss.”

  “Debbie, any joy with CCTV?”

  Constable Matthews reddened. “There’s a few hours of tape to review and I need to go back to a few places tomorrow morning.”

  “Good. Make sure we check the footage we’ve got immediately.”

  DC Khan raised his hand.

  “Yes, Youssef?”

  “Boss, just to let you know we’ve got hold of the next of kin of the two junkies.”

  “Good work.” She studied the board where the names of the couple who’d succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning headed columns two and three. “When can they identify them?”

  “Tomorrow. One family are from Hull and the other’s from Bristol.”

  “Okay. Make sure you find out what time they’re getting here and pick them up if they need a lift.”

  He looked like he’d object but just nodded.

  Eddy had written out Liam’s friends’ details on sheets of paper. “Right everyone; before you interview anybody, check their birthdays,” he announced. “Anyone born after December ’81 is a minor and needs to have an appropriate adult with them. Boss, which officers do you want me to send to interview Philip Mason?”

  “You and I will take him.” Siobhan had a feeling he’d be key to this case.

  CHAPTER 6

  The Boy got closer and saw many of the invaders were themselves children, some not much older than the boys he’d played football with. One of these had noticed the arrival of the footballers and let out a cry of warning. Others joined him and they advanced in a line, each holding a weapon by his side. The boys again looked to their leader.

  ‘Run!’ he cried and, following a shocked pause; they all did.

  The invaders set off in pursuit, brandishing their weapons. They caught the smallest of the boys first, and his pursuer lifted his machete in the air before smashing it down onto his skinny torso. The small boy crashed to the ground and lay still, surprised to be alive. He fought for breath, realising the flat of the blade had hit him. His captor seized his arm and dragged him to his feet.

  Similar scenes continued around him and The Boy identified the smallest of their pursuers before running at him. As he closed on his adversary, The Boy recognised surprise and fear in the other’s eyes. Before his opponent could react, The Boy’s head crunched into the other’s torso, and The Boy realised his adversary was a girl. She collapsed with a surprised gasp as the impact emptied her lungs.

  Fighting for air, she stayed down, and The Boy leapt to his feet. Her weapon lay on the ground and, without thinking; he grabbed it, and ran on to his home, where his mother and sister would need his help.

  Eddy drove and Siobhan sat in thoughtful silence, running through what to expect. Her actions would determine the success of the investigation and she’d seen cases falter because of mistakes made in the early stages. Outside, the cityscape changed. They drove along a road lined with exotic shops and eateries; the air infused with the aroma of curry. A few shops displayed Christmas decorations, but these weren’t as prevalent as in the city centre. Twenty minutes later they entered a more affluent area, the houses lining the street were bigger and in better condition.

  Eddy slowed and entered a side road, lined with the skeletons of trees. The street lighting left dark shadows on each side of the road but each house occupied a large plot. Eddy pulled over to the kerb and switched off the engine. Siobhan got out, her foot slipping on the slimy layer of fallen leaves covering the pavement.

  “It’s this one, Boss.” He pointed to the house to their left. “How do you want to play it?”

  “
At the moment, he’s a potential witness, that’s all. And we just want to find out when he last saw Liam. If I believe he’s involved, I’ll put pressure on him. Let’s find out the family’s attitude first.” Anticipation made her tingle.

  She marched up the drive, studying the imposing house. Lights showed upstairs and in three of the lower floor windows. She rang the bell and, following a short wait, a pretty teenage girl answered the door.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” The girl looked apprehensive.

  “Hello, are your parents home?” Siobhan said.

  The girl shouted into the house, “Dad, somebody for you.” She returned her attention to Siobhan, but she noticed Eddy and her smile faded. “My father’s coming.”

  “Thank you.” They waited in awkward silence, but at least there wasn’t any hostility. Yet. Let’s see how her dad reacts.

  “Come on Lucy, let me see our visitors,” a sonorous voice said.

  The girl stepped back, pulling the door open to reveal a man of about forty. His huge arms and well-developed shoulders dwarfed the wheelchair beneath him. Siobhan hid her surprise, smiled and produced her warrant card.

  “Good evening, sir. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Quinn, GMP Major Crimes Unit and this is Sergeant Arkwright.”

  “Samuel Mason.” He shook hands with both visitors. “And my daughter, Lucy.”

  A trace of the local accent inflected Samuel’s rumbling voice. After checking their identification he smiled and said, “What major crimes have you come to discuss?”

  “We need to speak to your son, Philip. Can we come in please, sir?”

  Samuel raised his eyebrows and rolled back to let the two detectives into the house. The young girl, eyes wide, closed the door and loitered behind the visitors, hoping to escape notice. Siobhan studied her surroundings. The huge hall would accommodate half the ground floor of her parents’ house. The tasteful décor suggested the influence of someone with a flair for interior design and she recognised the wallpaper, a pattern she’d rejected as too expensive.

  “Lucy, please fetch your brother,” Samuel said. “What do you want with my son, Chief Inspector?”

  “We’re investigating a serious crime involving one of his friends from college.” How would her parents have reacted to a visit from the police when she’d been a teenager? Like this. Polite curiosity, but no concern their child might be involved in any crime.

  The sound of Lucy calling her brother carried down the stairs. A door opened, and she held a muttered conversation, then a big youth appeared at the top of the stairs. Halfway down he stopped and his eyes darted. A flutter of excitement made Siobhan’s hands tingle and Eddy tensed, ready to respond.

  The young man gathered himself and continued down the stairs. Siobhan noted he was about the same height as Eddy and, although still to fill out, he wasn’t much slimmer than the sergeant. He looked more than capable of inflicting the injuries she’d seen on Liam’s body.

  “Philip, Chief Inspector Quinn here would like a word. Shall we go into my study?” Samuel rolled his chair towards a door to the left of the stairs. Philip lingered, waiting for them to follow his father.

  “After you, Philip.” Siobhan gestured.

  Philip hesitated, before trudging in ahead of her. Before following him, she exchanged a glance with Eddy, both of them certain the boy knew something significant. Lucy hovered behind them.

  “Lucy, go and help your mother,” Samuel announced over his shoulder.

  The girl sighed theatrically before stomping away. They entered a large, well-lit room. A partner’s desk occupied one corner and, opposite, stood a lift. Dark wooden bookshelves, full of text books, filled one wall. A large sofa and several easy chairs clustered round a circular coffee table in front of a cast iron fireplace.

  Samuel invited them to sit and they took seats at right angles to each other, both facing Philip. They declined an offer of refreshments, and Eddy produced a notepad.

  Siobhan studied Philip. “We’re investigating the murder of Liam McLaughlin.”

  Samuel gasped, looking stunned by this news. Philip slumped in his chair and covered his face.

  Samuel recovered first. “Liam? What happened?” He sat open-mouthed.

  Siobhan fixed her attention on Philip, who looked devastated. Whether due to shock or guilt, she couldn’t yet tell. “Philip, we’re trying to track Liam’s last movements and his mother told us he planned to meet you last night. Did you see him at all yesterday?”

  After a few moments during which Siobhan wondered if he’d heard her, Philip made a silent appeal to his father.

  “Is my son a suspect?”

  Siobhan didn’t respond.

  “Philip visited one of his other friends yesterday evening, so unless Liam went there, he wouldn’t have seen him.”

  She frowned at Samuel, returning her attention to Philip. “Can you tell me whose house you visited?”

  Samuel answered for him, “Mugisa’s.”

  “Can you let your son answer, sir?”

  Samuel held her gaze before nodding.

  “Philip, is Mugisa one of your friends from college?” She couldn’t remember the name from the list of Liam’s friends.

  “He’s known as Matthew Walcott at college. Mugisa’s his African name,” Philip explained in a small voice.

  She remembered the name Matthew Walcott. “Was Liam with you?”

  He nodded but avoided her gaze.

  “Can you tell me who else was there?”

  He mumbled a name which she couldn’t make out. A glower from his father made Philip sit up and give them three names in a strong voice.

  “What time did you leave the Walcott house?”

  “We didn’t go to his house.” His voice returned to a whisper.

  From Samuel’s reaction, this was news to him. “Can you tell me where you went?” she said.

  He shrugged and received another glower from his father. “Different places. We just hung out.”

  Siobhan tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. “Please try to remember. Were you inside or did you stay outside?”

  “Outside, mostly.”

  “You must be pretty tough. It didn’t stop raining last night.”

  He shrugged.

  She wanted to shake him. “What time did you leave the others?”

  “About eight,” he mumbled.

  “And where did you go then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you come home or did you go somewhere else?”

  “Surely that’s none of your business, Chief Inspector,” Samuel interrupted. “If he left Liam at eight, then that’s when he last saw him. What he did afterwards has nothing to do with your investigation.”

  She ignored Samuel. “Did you leave Liam with the others?” She glanced at her notes and read out the four names he’d given her.

  “Yes.” He looked her in the eye for the first time.

  “Okay, Philip. We’ll now talk to your friends and find out if they agree with your version of what happened. If they don’t, we’ll be back.” A shadow crossed his features. “I have to remind you we’re investigating the murder of one of your friends. If you’re withholding information which could help our investigation, not only might it delay us finding your friend’s killers, but it’s a serious offence, for which you can go to prison.”

  He looked down at his lap, holding back tears.

  Her words had a sobering effect on Samuel. But he must know what time his son came home? She witnessed the struggle taking place in his mind. If she said nothing, he’d fill the silence and she willed Eddy to keep quiet. Samuel cleared his throat then glanced at the door.

  An attractive, petite woman stood in the open doorway, her skin darker than Samuel’s and Philip’s. “Did I hear you threaten my son with prison, Chief Inspector?”

  “Good evening, Mrs Mason. You heard me explaining to your son and husband the penalties for withholding evidence or giving a false statement.”

>   The two women stared at each other for several seconds. The hardness in Mrs Mason’s expression made Siobhan realise she wouldn’t get much more here. Not unless they found inconsistencies between the other boys’ statements or evidence of Philip’s involvement.

  Mrs Mason spoke first. “My son doesn’t lie.”

  Philip seemed to offer a prayer.

  Don’t celebrate yet, young man, I haven’t finished with you. “I hope you’re right, Mrs Mason. But I suspect he’s hiding something. Can either of you confirm what time your son came home last night?”

  Samuel exchanged a look with his wife. “Why is that relevant, Chief Inspector? You already know he left Liam at eight.” His objection sounded less assured.

  His wife’s aggressiveness lessened and Siobhan suspected she didn’t want to lie, but obviously had a strong urge to protect her son.

  “I went to Jenna’s.” Philip broke the silence and the tension in the room dropped several notches.

  Siobhan’s lips compressed as she hid her disappointment. “Can you tell me what time you got to Jenna’s?”

  “Eight thirty.”

  “Until what time?”

  “Late.” He looked at his mother. “About two.”

  “So you stayed there almost six hours?” Siobhan detected a silent communication passing between the boy and his mother as he nodded. “Did you see Liam in that time?”

  Philip shook his head.

  “Okay, Philip. I’ll need Jenna’s full name and address. We’ll have to speak to her.” She glanced at his mother. “To make sure her recollection agrees with yours.” Siobhan changed tack. Philip was lying to them about all or part of the evening and he’d obviously lied to his parents. “Did you wear those clothes last night?”

  Philip smoothed his top. “No.”

  “Can we have a look at what you wore?”

  Philip appealed to his father.

  “Why, Chief Inspector?” Samuel said. “Philip can’t be a suspect.”

  Siobhan thought she sensed fear behind his indignation. “Your son said he was with Liam until eight. I’m sure they would have made some physical contact during their time together. Even if they brushed against each other, fibres from their clothes would transfer. It will help us if we can eliminate those traces.”