“Do you mind telling me how you got injured?” she asked. “It looks very recent.”
“I told you, I cut myself shaving.”
“So if I check a certain house in Didsbury, I won’t find a piece of your ear in the rubbish?”
Anger flared behind McLaughlin’s eyes and he shot out an arm towards her, finger extended. Her insides fluttered, but she held his gaze and beside her Eddy stiffened. The coffee arrived, releasing the tension.
Siobhan sat forward. “If I hear you’ve taken the law into your own hands, or are even considering doing it, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The sneer McLaughlin attempted wasn’t a success and he still couldn’t meet her eyes. But he’d soon pull himself together. Time to leave.
“Thank you for your help Mr McLaughlin. I may need to speak to you again so don’t take any trips.” Siobhan signalled to Eddy, rose and started for the front door, forcing herself not to hurry.
“Is that it?” McLaughlin shouted at her back.
At the door Siobhan smiled at him before letting herself out. In the lift on the way down, she let out a long, slow breath. Perspiration soaked her armpits.
“Bloody hell, Boss, I’ve never seen him like that.” Eddy laughed. “I thought he’d go for you when you mentioned his ear, but when you stared him down…”
“Mr McLaughlin’s had a nasty experience at the hands of a woman and a man in a wheelchair and I suspect it’s knocked his confidence.”
Siobhan studied Eddy and contemplated McLaughlin’s blunder. The idea one of her team might be leaking information to him appalled her, but she’d make sure she found the mole. She hoped it wasn’t Eddy; she was beginning to like him.
The dark bulk of the mill loomed ahead and, checking nobody had followed them, Adam parked the car outside the entrance gate. Byron jumped out before the car stopped moving. After locking the car, Adam vaulted the gate and caught up with Byron as he removed the drum from in front of the door at the far end of the courtyard.
A musty smell of damp masonry and decomposing timber rose up from the opening. The torch they’d found in Mal’s glove compartment illuminated a set of stairs going down. Feet had cleared a path through the sludge of rotting leaves on each step. Had they belonged to Philip’s captors? Or just rough sleepers looking for a secluded shelter?
Byron descended and Adam followed. The stink increased and the stairs opened into a large space. They paused and studied their surroundings. The torch threw out a narrow cone of light which didn’t reach the edge of the room. A figure moved at the far wall. A surge of adrenaline prepared Adam for action. Then the figure cried out and staggered before slumping to the floor.
“Philip!” Byron ran across the rubbish strewn floor.
Adam followed, almost tripping on the remains of an old broken chair. Byron grabbed Philip and lifted him upright, holding him in his arms.
Philip sobbed, speaking incoherently between taking gulps of air. Adam kept watch on the entrance, aware they needed to leave in case his captors came back. After a few moments Philip’s breathing returned to normal and Byron introduced them.
“Nice to meet you, Philip.” Adam took his cold, damp hand. “Shall we get out of here?” He gestured towards the stairs.
Byron supported his nephew until his legs steadied. Philip struggled to climb the gate but between them they got him to the car. A small old-looking car had stopped at the corner of the next street. Adam hadn’t noticed it before and approached it. He couldn’t see the driver, but he thought someone moved in the shadows behind it. He stared at the spot until Byron called him. Adam jogged back to the car and helped put Philip on the back seat. As he drove past the other car, he checked it and memorised the number plate. The shadow he’d taken for a person still hadn’t moved.
“What’s up?” Byron said.
“Nothing.” Adam gestured at Philip with his thumb and studied him in the rear-view mirror. Philip sat, head lolling and hunched up in his uncle’s jacket, overwhelmed by the exhaustion of two days without sleep. Now the euphoria of his rescue had passed, he didn’t look too well. They rounded a corner and he fell into the child seat, jerking awake. Adam pulled up into a layby, got out and removed the booster seat.
“Lie down.” Byron ordered and Philip complied.
Adam stowed the seat in the boot and found a rug which he laid over Philip. They closed the doors and got into the front.
“The poor lad must be shattered,” Adam said.
Byron wore a thankful grin. “Thanks, Adam. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Adam shifted in his seat. “It wouldn’t have taken as long, you mean. We were there hours ago.” His relief at finding Philip matched Byron’s.
“It’s not your fault, mate. If those bloody coppers hadn’t turned up… Anyway, we’ve got him now. I’ll ring his parents and tell them he’s safe.” Byron took out his phone as they pulled away. “Rebecca,” he said, “we’ve got him.”
Byron listened to Rebecca’s response and ended the call. “We’ll have to stick him in a hotel. The police have searched the house and taken his clothes. Rebecca’s worried he’ll get arrested.”
Adam considered this for a few moments. “He can stay at my place. I’ve got plenty of room.”
“You sure?”
“What are mates for?” Adam hoped he wouldn’t regret it.
Byron sat at Adam’s kitchen table, washing his cheese sandwich down with a mug of coffee. Adam chopped onions for the evening meal, seeming unbothered by the acrid fumes.
“You sure you don’t want me to make you some?” Adam said, scraping the contents of the chopping board into a spitting frying pan.
“I’d better see Philip’s parents, tell them how he is.”
Steps sounded in the hallway and Philip walked into the kitchen. Although looking bruised and exhausted, the shower had done him good. He wore one of Adam’s tracksuits, the legs and sleeves too short. Adam wasn’t small but Philip might even eclipse Byron’s six-foot-five frame.
“I’ll get you some clothes when I go round.”
“Thanks, Uncle Byron.”
“You’re old enough to dispense with the uncle. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Panic and bewilderment crossed Philip’s features as he related his abduction and imprisonment. When he finished, tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Did Mugisa say why he abducted you?”
“He thinks I’ve betrayed him and the others. Like Liam did.”
Byron exchanged a glance with Adam. We know how that ended. “I’d better go and put your parents’ minds at rest.”
Half an hour later, Byron sank into the armchair in front of the fire in Samuel’s study, a glass of red wine in his hand. He drained the glass and put it on the table. Samuel still kept a great cellar. Philip’s parents had listened in silence as he related the account of their son’s abduction and subsequent rescue.
“Even if he thought Philip let him down, I don’t understand why Mugisa would do such a thing. They’re such good friends.” Rebecca sounded bewildered.
Byron couldn’t recall ever seeing her like this. “He was a child soldier. These kids are seriously damaged; there’s no accounting for how they’ll behave.”
“Surely they would have rehabilitated him and undertaken psychological evaluations before letting anyone adopt him?” Samuel said, outraged.
“It doesn’t always work.” The warmth and wine made Byron sleepy and he yawned.
“Where’s Philip?” Rebecca frowned at him.
“He’s safe, but it’s not a good idea for you to know where he is.”
“Why not?”
Byron considered how to phrase his reply.
“I’m concerned about the police. If you don’t know, they can’t do you for obstruction.”
Rebecca broke the silence. “I told the police he’s missing…”
Both brothers stared at her. “Why the hell did you do that?” Byron demanded.
She held his gaze. “I. Was. Worried. About. My. Son.”
“Let’s not fall out,” Samuel said.
It was way too late for that, but they needed to maintain this fragile truce until they sorted out Philip’s problem. “Like Samuel says, we also have those gangsters to worry about.”
“Do you think they’ll return?”
“I don’t expect them to hurt you, but they’ll still be looking for Philip.” And me, he neglected to add. “Unless we make them reconsider.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” The challenge in Rebecca’s voice returned.
Byron wouldn’t rise to it. He had no idea what he would do, but he needed to come up with something soon. They might have found Philip but Mugisa hadn’t gone away and McLaughlin wouldn’t stay quiet forever.
CHAPTER 14
His determination to return to his father and brothers grew as his strength increased. The Boy knew if he escaped, he could find his way home using the old tracking skills his father had taught him.
The camp sat in a deserted part of the country, and he would have to travel far before meeting outsiders. Experience told The Boy he could survive many days without food but he’d need water and would have to take some with him. Guards watched the children at all times, never leaving them alone. He must be cunning, ready to take advantage of any slip on his captors’ parts.
Amongst the other captives was an older girl of twelve or thirteen. Beautiful and vivacious, she reminded him of his dead sister. She had been in the camp about a year and belonged to an officer. Because of his status, the soldiers treated her with deference.
Siobhan pursed her lips, as she read the fingerprint analysis from the fire. “So, we haven’t got either print on the database?”
“No, Boss.” Eddy looked disappointed. “But there’s no question they’re from two different people. One of whom was pretty big.”
“Philip Mason’s pretty big, and his prints aren’t on record.” Siobhan smiled. “Can you check if they can get any prints off the gear we got from his house? The trainers had patches of shiny material on the tongue. It will save us going back.”
Eddy frowned. “Those prints could come from the firemen who moved the security grille.”
“They wore gloves.”
Eddy left and constables Stefan Dabrowski and Debbie Matthews arrived. Stefan strode to her door, grinning.
“You’re looking pleased with yourself, Stefan.”
His grin widened. “I’ve found a witness putting the Mason lad together with the victim at around ten on Sunday night. A shopkeeper who saw them said he remembers them because the black lad looked nervous.” He held up a videocassette in an evidence bag.
“Well done, Stefan — and you, Debbie. Good work. Let’s have a look at it.”
In the comms suite, Siobhan remembered they were still waiting for the final analysis of the last video and she collared the technician. “Any joy with the cyclists in the other video?”
“Err, not on the bikes, Ma’am. There’s at least two, maybe more, but we can’t see any detail. I’m trying to sharpen it up, but…” He tailed off before adding, “One thing I can tell you — they were going in the opposite direction to the two lads on foot.”
Siobhan tried to quell her disappointment. “What about the car, Debbie?”
“I’ve checked the cameras on the main roads, Boss, but I kept it to a narrow window, fifteen minutes either side of the sighting we got. The good news is there weren’t many cars. We’ve tracked down all but four and spoken to the owners.”
“And the four?”
“Still working on it, but one doesn’t even appear on the database. I tracked it but lost it when it turned off the main road near Ashton.”
Was it significant? The evidence led to the Mason lad and his friends. She couldn’t ignore the car but mustn’t waste too much time on it. “Keep on it. Follow up the other three then widen the timeframe and see if we can find the fourth one heading into the area. We might be able to discover where it came from.” She studied the screen which showed a fuzzy image of a small shop.
“Is the time stamp correct?”
“Yes, Boss, within a couple of minutes,” Stefan confirmed.
The time showed 22.03. Two faces filled the screen as the figures stepped in front of the camera. Both lads ate from a bag of chips. Liam smiled, looking relaxed. Philip, in contrast, looked tense and shifty. They bought two cans of cola and walked out. By the time the scene ended, Siobhan’s disappointment had changed to quiet satisfaction. She had Mason.
Adam finished his coffee and placed his mug on the worktop in his kitchen. Footsteps sounded on the tiled floor of the entrance hall and he greeted one of his guests. “Morning, Byron. Coffee?”
“Yes please, mate.” Byron looked around the smart kitchen. “Nice place you’ve got here. I won’t ask how much you paid; it’ll make me sick.”
Adam poured the coffee. “It needs a lot of work. I only finished the kitchen and bathroom before Sarah…” He changed the subject. “Is Philip okay?”
“I’ve let him sleep. He needs the rest.” Byron frowned. “I’ve been thinking about McLaughlin, and how to get him off our backs.”
“Any ideas?”
“One or two.” Byron hesitated, before asking, “Can you look after Philip this morning? I need to call on someone.”
“No problem, mate. He can help me strip the dining room.”
Footsteps clomped down the uncarpeted staircase and Philip appeared in the doorway, looking like he’d barely slept.
“Morning, Philip. You want a coffee, or breakfast?”
“Have you got any juice?” He nodded a greeting to his uncle. “How’s Mum?”
“Okay. She and your dad are both worried about you but they’re holding up. How are you?”
He shrugged. “Okay, I suppose.” Philip caressed the cut on top of his head and he winced. The ugly lump in the centre of his forehead looked sore.
“I’ll get going.” Byron strode to the door, a suppressed energy in his movements. “I’ll see you both later.”
Adam couldn’t remember ever seeing Byron so wound up. He prepared breakfast and Philip began sobbing. Unsure how to react, he ignored the young man and adjusted the heat under the griddle. By the time he’d cooked the bacon, Philip had his emotions under control.
“Tuck in,” said Adam. “There’s plenty more if you want it.” He pushed the plate of bacon sandwiches across the table. “Brown sauce?”
“Thanks,” Philip mumbled and opened one of the sandwiches, squeezing a generous dollop of sauce on the strips of streaky bacon.
Adam recognised the expression in the youth’s reddened eyes and swallowed his mouthful. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Philip didn’t reply and Adam took a swig of his cooling coffee. He got up to refill his mug and Philip started to speak.
“I didn’t know they intended to kill Liam. We were just going to scare him.” His lower lip quivered. “Mugisa said he’d betrayed us and we had to punish him. It was an accident.”
Adam sat back down. Images of the dead youth’s body sliding out of the fire-damaged bin returned. Hell of an accident. But he recognised someone rationalising their actions and tried not to judge Philip too harshly. God knows, he’d made mistakes often enough in his youth.
“How did you get involved with Mugisa?”
Philip assumed a faraway look. “I suppose he was exciting. The other lads all looked up to him. I’m just a doctor’s son from the suburbs and he was a genuine African who’d fought in a war. I wanted to be like him. When he asked me to join ‘the brotherhood’, I was flattered.”
Adam remembered how it felt to be the exotic one in his school, coming from Hong Kong and looking as he did. “What did this ‘brotherhood’ do?”
“Not a lot. It sounded exciting, but we didn’t do much.” His gaze flicked away from Adam’s. “We sometimes nicked stuff. The first time they made me do it I was terrified, but it made
me feel alive. I know we shouldn’t have done it. But we didn’t nick anything from houses, just businesses. Mugisa said most businessmen are cheats…” Philip’s voice tailed off.
If Adam hadn’t joined the Royal Marines, would he have become part of a similar gang? He’d gone off the rails in his teens, especially after his mum returned to Hong Kong and he’d stayed with his dad and ‘the wicked stepmother’. “So what happened with Liam?”
“We nicked laptops from a retail park, but Liam kept a few for himself.” Philip sounded outraged. “He’d taken an oath. We all had. Why the hell did he do it?”
He began crying again. Adam sat uncomfortably for a few seconds before placing his arm across Philip’s shoulders. The youth leant into him, the sobs making him shake. Adam searched in vain for words of comfort. Even if he and Byron could keep him safe from McLaughlin and Mugisa, he would have to live with his actions, something Adam knew all about.
Siobhan sat at her desk, stifling a yawn and took another sip of coffee. Eddy looked exhausted.
“How are you coping, Eddy?”
“Youngest is teething, Boss. I keep suggesting to the missus we let him sleep in the cellar, but she won’t hear of it.”
Siobhan smiled, glad she didn’t have those worries. “Get everyone who gave Philip an alibi for Sunday night brought in for questioning.” She noticed his expression. “You don’t agree?”
“The girl’s lying, but he might have been with the other four until eight.”
“You’re right, but I’m not happy with the stories of the four lads. And you know my feelings about young Mr Walcott.”
“Shall I bring them here?”
“Yes. Get uniform to do it. Make them realise how serious we are. Can you ask the college to provide an appropriate adult and we’d better have a solicitor standing by. I don’t want any criticism from the CPS.”
Forty minutes later, Eddy returned. “They’re here, Boss. How do you want to play it?”
Brotherhood Page 13