The Silent Suspect

by Nell Pattison

  I watched as Sasha’s face fell. I don’t know about that. As far as I knew, Lukas hadn’t had a drink in a long time, and had reached the stage where he was comfortable around other people who were drinking. Maybe he’s been going to the pub to socialise? Did they actually tell you he was drinking alcohol?

  Singh took a moment to flick back through the notes of his conversation with Lukas, and his confession, then looked back at Sasha. ‘They mention pints and shots. I can’t imagine either of those were soft drinks. It’s too late to check his blood alcohol level, unfortunately, even if he wanted to claim that alcohol was a factor. We’ll be looking for other witnesses to confirm the time he arrived at and left the pub, so I’ll make a note to confirm what he was drinking.’

  I could see from the look on Sasha’s face that she was sure the witnesses were mistaken. Over the last four months I had learnt how passionate she could be when she was standing up for her clients. She wasn’t a pushover, and she would tell them exactly what she thought, handing out tough love whenever it was necessary, but she would defend them to the death if she thought they weren’t being treated in the way they deserved. The clients I had met clearly respected her and felt respected by her, which had an impact on how much effort they put into helping themselves. Her caseload was huge, the whole department stretched to breaking point, but she still worked damned hard for every single one of them. Of course, some weren’t grateful because they resented the interference in their lives, or because they were scared of the implications of having a social worker. It didn’t help that the media had condemned social work as a profession long ago, but she and her colleagues were pretty thick-skinned, as far as I could see. Nobody went into social work thinking they were going to change the world and be showered with praise for it, but if they could change the life of one person, it was worth it.

  Lukas has been so much better since he met Nadia, Sasha told Singh. She was a very calm and supportive person, but she also didn’t let him get away with anything; she wouldn’t take any excuses. The medication and therapy helped to improve his mental health, but I think being with Nadia was the best therapy he could have had.

  Singh looked like he was sizing Sasha up, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed together, but then he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I can make a note of your concerns, but it doesn’t do anything to counteract our evidence. We’ll continue to investigate, and if we find anything that suggests he’s not responsible, of course things will change. Until then, I suggest you convince him to speak to a solicitor, and to then give us a statement.’

  Sasha’s eyes lit up when he said this, and a ghost of a smile crossed her face. Did that mean Singh thought there might be some truth to what we’d been saying? He was right, of course: Lukas really needed legal advice, and without a solicitor things could go very badly for him.

  ‘Is there anything else that you think might be relevant?’ Singh asked.

  Sasha glanced at me, and I thought she was going to add something, but then she shook her head. I don’t think so, she replied regretfully. I wish I could make sense of this.

  ‘Well, you can go and see Lukas now, if he’s willing to see you. Maybe he can explain it to you.’ Singh smiled gently at Sasha, and I could see he was trying hard not to be patronising, but he thought she was deluded. I could see his point – surely nobody would keep their mouth shut about their own innocence, unless they were actually guilty. Lukas had been given plenty of opportunity to give his side, both to Sasha and the police, but had he completely clammed up due to guilt, or fear?

  Rav led us through the police station and downstairs to another meeting room, this one very stark and bare. I imagined it wasn’t much nicer than the cell where Lukas was being held.

  ‘I’ll bring him along. You can have about ten minutes with him, but that’s all.’

  We sat and stared at the heavy metal door for a moment, then Singh was back, with a shadow of the man we knew.

  Lukas, Sasha signed as soon as she saw him. Lukas, what’s going on?

  He shook his head jerkily, avoiding looking straight at Sasha, but didn’t reply. Sasha sat down and pointed to another chair for him to do the same. Lukas hesitated, a wary look in his eyes, and didn’t sit down.

  Lukas, you need to tell me what happened. Why won’t you give a statement? Sasha asked him.

  Instead of answering, he turned back towards the door, looking out of the tiny window as if he wanted Rav to take him back to his cell. My heart sank; Lukas still wasn’t going to say anything, whether to defend himself or otherwise.

  Sasha got up and walked round so he could see her again. This doesn’t look good, you know, Lukas, she told him, gently but firmly. You need to give the police a statement, tell them your side of the story.

  Lukas leant his head against the metal door and took a deep breath, letting it out again in a weary sigh. He turned his head to face Sasha, but I couldn’t see his expression. A worried frown crossed Sasha’s face and she shook her head. I assumed she was trying to tell Lukas that he couldn’t continue like this; he would have to communicate with someone soon.

  Sasha came back and sat down, folding her arms, watching Lukas the whole time. I’d seen her use this tactic before, giving the client space to come to her, but Lukas didn’t respond in the way she’d hoped. A minute or so later, the door opened and Singh was back.

  The moment the door was opened, Lukas stepped back so he didn’t appear to be trying to escape, then he nodded to Singh as if to tell him he was ready to return to his cell.

  Singh looked between Sasha and me before taking Lukas away.

  What’s going on? Sasha asked me, looking baffled. I don’t understand what’s happening.

  Neither did I, but if I knew Sasha by now, she wouldn’t stop until she’d found out.

  Chapter 6

  Twenty minutes later, we were back at the social services office. Sasha dumped her bag on her desk, and looked around at the room, which was busy with people on their computers or phones.

  Wait here, she told me, then left the room for a couple of minutes, leaving me to hover awkwardly by her desk. I didn’t spend much time in the office with her, as she used her time with me for meetings and other appointments as much as possible, so I didn’t really know any of her colleagues very well. Most of them were friendly, although one of the managers obviously viewed me with slight suspicion and tried not to hold conversations within my hearing.

  Sasha appeared at the door and gestured to me, telling me to grab her bag and follow her. Doing as I was told, I went out and through to the other side of the building, where we entered a small meeting room.

  This is free for the next fifteen minutes, she told me, sliding the sign on the door across to show the room was occupied, then shutting the door. We can talk about Lukas.

  I sat down, not sure what she wanted to talk about or why she wanted the privacy, but my role mostly involved doing what she asked so I didn’t question it.

  Taking the seat opposite me, Sasha leant on the table and fixed me with a piercing look. I need to decide what’s the best course of action for helping Lukas.

  I nodded. Okay. Well, I don’t know what your responsibility is, professionally speaking.

  Sasha shook her head. Technically, none. He’s in the hands of the criminal justice system now, so he’s their responsibility. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on him.

  I didn’t know what Sasha expected of me, so I sat back and waited for her to continue.

  Tell me exactly what he told you, when you were in the hospital.

  I’d told her several times already, but she was obviously fixated on it, so I thought back to the previous night.

  He said he knew who was responsible, I told her.

  Who was responsible? Did he use those exact words? She sat forward eagerly, and I felt as if I was being interrogated. Because you can be considered responsible for something even if you didn’t actually do it yourself.

  I thought again.
Er, maybe not. I think he said he knew who’d done it.

  Sasha nodded, a thin smile on her face. Good, that’s good.

  I should have included that in my statement, I told her, regretting my decision to leave it out. I thought it probably wasn’t relevant, but surely they’d want to know everything he said to me? Especially as he’s refusing to tell them anything now.

  You could tell them now, ask if you can add it in? Sasha suggested.

  I nodded, but didn’t tell her what I’d been worrying about. That maybe Lukas had told me in the first place so I would include it in my statement. If he had killed Nadia, telling someone who was a witness to the fire that he knew someone else had done it would be a good way to try and throw the police off the scent. But was Lukas that calculating? The frustrating thing was that I had no idea. I had always seen his charm and his gentle flirtation as harmless, but there was always the possibility that he was now using that in order to manipulate me.

  It’s worth checking, Sasha continued. It could help him, persuade him to talk.

  I gave her a non-committal head tilt this time, neither a nod nor a shake. Unless Lukas was going to start cooperating with the detectives, and then tell them who he thought had killed Nadia and why, I didn’t think it would make much difference.

  Sasha stood up and walked over to the window. It afforded a rather dull view of the car park, a stretch of grass and then a fairly busy road, but she obviously wasn’t interested in the scenery.

  She turned back to me. So the question is, who did kill Nadia?

  Hang on, I said with a frown. How do you know Lukas didn’t kill her? I saw her face darken, but I pushed on anyway. I know he’s your client and you want to believe he’s innocent, but you have to be open to the possibility that he might have done it.

  He told you himself that he didn’t, she signed. And he’s clearly absolutely devastated about her death. Isn’t that enough for you?

  No, it’s not, I replied, standing my ground. And I wouldn’t have thought it was enough for you, either.

  We glared at each other for a moment, until she came back and sat down opposite me.

  Fine, she conceded. However strongly I feel that Lukas wouldn’t have hurt Nadia, I can’t be certain. But I think I have a responsibility, as his social worker, to at least consider all of the possibilities.

  I nodded. Okay. What do you want to do?

  She thought for a moment. If Lukas knows who killed Nadia, why hasn’t he told the police?

  He could be scared, I replied. What I didn’t add was the other idea I was mulling over, that he’d only told me that to try and manipulate me into taking his side.

  Scared of being blamed? she asked.

  No, I don’t think so. Because otherwise he would have told the police about it, wouldn’t he? I reasoned.

  Okay, so not scared.

  Unless he’s scared of the person who killed her. That’s why he’s not saying anything.

  Sasha’s eyes lit up. Of course, that sounds plausible. He won’t admit to something he hasn’t done, but he knows if he tells the police who it was they might be able to get to him.

  Could he be protecting someone? I asked. Maybe he knows who killed Nadia, but doesn’t want them to go to prison?

  Sasha looked doubtful. Apart from his wife and son, I can’t see Lukas protecting anyone that fiercely that he’d go to jail for them. Mariusz got on well with Nadia, and he’s only sixteen. No, I think you were right the first time.

  She stood up and began pacing. So how are we going to find out who he’s scared of?

  I was about to offer a suggestion, but then stopped myself. Just over a year earlier, I had been asked to interpret for the police when a deaf child had been killed. The child was Anna’s goddaughter, and I’d found myself doing things that were dangerous and stupid, which ultimately led to my sister being gravely injured. When I’d first met Sasha, I was supporting the police when they investigated the murder of a teacher at Lincoln School for the Deaf, and I’d ended up trying to rescue a student from the killer. If I allowed Sasha to lead me down this route, would I end up in danger and at odds with the police yet again?

  Besides that, Singh had taken me aside before we left and reminded me that as a witness I couldn’t be involved with the case. He meant that I wouldn’t be asked to interpret for any further interviews with Lukas, but I had a feeling he also was referring to my work with Sasha. He knew what I was like from the previous times we’d worked together, and how easily I found myself caught up in these things, but this time it had to be different. I shook my head.

  Sasha, we’re not the police. It’s not our job to look into it, I told her, aware of my own hypocrisy, but not wanting to be drawn into something dangerous again. Besides, I trusted Singh; he was an excellent detective, and if there was more to this case than was obvious at first, I knew he’d find it.

  Sasha frowned at me, then sat down again and reached for my hands. She squeezed them and looked into my eyes, before pulling away again to sign.

  I don’t want to let anyone down again. She looked at me knowingly and I could tell she was referring to the incident at Lincoln School for the Deaf last year. She still blamed herself for not realising what was going on, and I sympathised with her.

  But, Sasha, what makes you so certain that Lukas is innocent? I knew I risked her getting angry by asking again, but I wanted to be sure myself. He was covered in bruises. How do you know he didn’t fight with Nadia and end up killing her?

  Her mouth twitched as she thought about how to respond. I don’t even know for certain myself, she signed eventually. But right now, I want to be certain. He hasn’t confessed, and he told you it was someone else. That’s enough for me.

  Sasha’s reaction hadn’t completely surprised me. I’d seen how passionate she could be when she fought for her clients’ rights, and I knew how proud she was of the work Lukas had done to improve his life and his health over the last couple of years. She certainly wasn’t a pushover, though. I remembered one time when I’d just started working for her, he’d missed a few of his addiction support meetings, and she gave him a talking-to about his responsibilities to himself and his family. Being blunt with her clients seemed to make them respect her all the more, though, and Lukas hadn’t missed a meeting since.

  Okay, I signed. I’m not going to stop you, but we have to pass on anything we find out to the police, I added.

  Sasha agreed. So we need to work out who Lukas is afraid of, she said.

  I let her go on for a while, laying out her theory and telling me what she was going to have a look at, but I didn’t offer any extra suggestions. I remembered what Rav had said to me, and I intended to take it to heart and not get involved.

  As I walked out of the building, I pulled out my phone and scrolled down to Singh’s name, my thumb hovering over the call button. He should know what Sasha and I had been talking about, and I should tell him what Lukas told me in the hospital. But what if I was right about him trying to manipulate me, and by doing that I could be unwittingly helping a murderer? No, it could wait until I knew a few more facts. Putting my phone away, I told myself I’d give it a day or two before I spoke to Singh, and hopefully by then the police would have the answers anyway.

  Chapter 7

  By the time I got home that afternoon I was exhausted. I shut the door to my flat and leant against it for a minute, my head still swimming. I didn’t know whether to trust Sasha’s assessment of the situation. She knew Lukas better than I did; that much was true. Hopefully she would know how to persuade him to tell the police what he knew.

  I went through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, and a moment later I heard keys in the door. My sister, Anna, had been living with me for around a year now. She worked at a university in Hull, running their new Deaf Studies department, and her enthusiasm for her job still shone through several months after she had started. I smiled at her as she put her head round the kitchen door, hoping she wouldn’t see how stressed I was
.

  Hi, she signed. Are you making tea?

  I nodded. Want one?

  Please, I’ve barely stopped all day. She gave me a grin and went off to get changed as I got her a mug out of the cupboard. By the time the drinks were made she was back, regaling me with a tale about her day. I nodded in the right places, but I found my attention drifting so I missed the point of one story and had to ask her to repeat herself.

  What’s wrong, Paige? she asked, with a concerned frown. Is it about the fire? Is that man okay?

  I had told her the basics about Lukas and the fire that morning before she left for work, but not yet about Max asking me to move in with him, which was still playing on my mind. I shook my head.

  The pressure of everything I’d been worrying about, Max’s question and Lukas’s refusal to defend himself, suddenly bore down upon me and I burst into tears. Anna jumped up from her seat and wrapped her arms around me, holding me until the flood had subsided.

  Once I’d calmed down a bit, she stepped back so she could sign.

  What’s happened?

  I swallowed, wondering what to tell her first. Anna and Max had had a mixed relationship over the last year, and the two of us had only really just got settled into living together again. I didn’t want to upset her by making her worry about me moving out and leaving her alone, especially when I didn’t know what my answer was going to be. But she was my sister, and I knew if anyone could help me figure out what I wanted, it would be her.

  Max asked me to move in with him.

  There was a pause, and I saw a range of emotions passing over Anna’s face. She looked me in the eye and tilted her head on one side.

  Why has that made you cry?

  Because I don’t know what to say, what to think, I replied, throwing my arms out to the sides. I’m happy with the way things are. I was happy. But this has completely thrown me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it.