The time when she missed Matthew most was when she was away from work – at home, alone and in the middle of the night when all was quiet and deeper thoughts intruded. What were his true feelings towards her? Had their love been based on warm ice? On deceit, excitement and furtive meetings that had blessed her, the ‘other woman’, with an illusion of glamour.
And if she was brutally honest with herself there were other thoughts too. Matthew had been the world’s most exciting and intelligent lover – now and then. Their meetings had been infrequent and treasured, each second lived twice over. The sick thought that pervaded her now was did she honestly want a full-time lover? A husband? Someone always there. Demanding? Or had one of the magic reasons she had been so magnetized by Matthew Levin been his intermittence?
And now the worry had woken her. She climbed out of bed and stepped under the shower. It was time to face Monday and her mood was not improved by knowing she had set most of this day aside to speak to the children from The Nest. Maree’s presence had been arranged and it was thought better that she, Mike and a policewoman (she had chosen PC Cheryl Smith for her acuteness) should interview the children one at a time in familiar surroundings – in the living room of the children’s home. However, as she was sitting at her breakfast bar, drinking the first coffee of the day, the telephone rang. It was the Chief Superintendent and he sounded irritable.
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘I hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew, Piercy,’ he said sharply, ‘because I’ve got Ashford Leech’s son here breathing fire. Says you’ve been harassing his aged mother. And’, he said ominously, ‘for some reason you’ve decided to make public the ring connection.’
She thought how Wagnerian the phrase sounded ... ‘She isn’t aged, sir,’ Joanna protested, but the Chief was definitely not interested in discussing the relationship of Anno Domini to Gilly Leech.
‘You’d better come down here, Piercy,’ he said. ‘He wants to speak to the officer in charge. And he’s brought his solicitor.’
‘Suits me,’ she said. ‘I needed to speak to him anyway.’
‘And use the car. It’s quicker. And I don’t want you turning up in those bloody black shiny cycling shorts.’
She agreed to use the car and felt decidedly resentful towards Robin Leech for upsetting her routine. She left a message for Mike then – at the station. Would he arrange for the ring to be released from forensics and also would he delay the children’s interviews for an hour.
She finished dressing, applied two-minute make-up and headed for the station, giving her bike a reluctant glance as she got into her car. She picked out Robin Leech’s car easily enough in the car park, a rather battered cream Range Rover slewed across two parking spaces. He had obviously arrived in a hurry or a temper – or both.
He stood up as she walked in, a tall, thin man with wide nostrils and thinning hair. The man sitting at his side was presumably his solicitor.
Joanna introduced herself and Robin Leech slapped the desk with the newspaper. ‘Are you responsible for this?’
She glanced at the headline. Dead MP’s ring found on murdered boy’s finger ... Caroline had surpassed herself with tabloid headlines.
Joanna sighed and looked at the solicitor. ‘I don’t think there’s any problem with this, is there?’
Robin Leech snorted. ‘No problem?’ he said. ‘Blackening the family name? This little squirt burgles our house – steals our property – then goes and gets himself murdered. And you have the effrontery to drag our family into it?’
‘Mr Leech,’ she said severely, ‘I didn’t drag you into this. The ring on Dean’s finger was your father’s.’ She unfolded the paper and scanned the article. ‘As far as I can see there isn’t anything here to which you can object.’
He opened his mouth then shut it again.
‘If you object to certain facts being made public I suggest you take it up with the Press Complaints Authority – not the police.’
‘Harassment then,’ the solicitor said. He was about the same age as Leech. Perhaps an old school friend. He was dark-eyed, dark-suited, with slicked-back hair and a cocksure manner, balancing a large black briefcase on bony knees.
These two, Joanna decided, looked down on the rest of the world as humans do ants. She ignored him. ‘Shall we go into my office now the introductions are over?’
She sat behind her desk, opposite both men. ‘You want to make an official complaint about harassment?’ she asked
The solicitor drew out a wired notepad and pencil, rested it on the desk and leaned back. ‘My client wants to know the purpose of your questions,’ he said.
‘Just a minute,’ Joanna said quickly, ‘who exactly is your client – Mr Robin Leech or Mrs Gilly Leech?’
‘I act for the family,’ the solicitor said haughtily.
‘And what exactly is your complaint against the police?’
‘My client – Mr Robin Leech –’ the solicitor spoke clearly, ‘is anxious. He has volunteered to come here today to make a statement. He wants to make that statement and then for the police to leave him and his family alone. He does not want further police visits to Rock House. They upset his mother.’
‘Well, hang on a minute.’ Joanna’s hackles were beginning to rise. She could feel a slow prickle at the back of her neck. ‘A ring believed to belong to your father, Mr Leech, was found on the dead boy’s finger. We know also that your father and this boy were acquainted.’
‘Lies ...’ Robin Leech was really breathing fire now. ‘Damned bloody lies.’
Joanna stared hard at him. ‘Mr Leech,’ she said, ‘the dead boy was from the children’s home – The Nest. We know that your father entertained these children from time to time at your family home. We know this. Your mother has told us. So has Mr Riversdale, warden of the home. This is not conjecture – this is fact. Now, we are not suggesting there was anything improper about this association, Mr Leech. We believe it was through your father’s role as a local benefactor.’
The flattery had its desired effect. Robin Leech visibly relaxed. His solicitor smirked. Fool police, the look said.
‘That’s right,’ Robin burbled. ‘That’s right. As an MP he took his duties very seriously ... Father was a benefactor.’
‘However,’ Joanna said, knowing this was more boggy ground, ‘we are just slightly curious about the burglary following which the ring was noted to be missing.’
The solicitor cleared his throat. ‘What do you mean, “slightly curious”?’ he asked.
‘We’re not prepared to say at the moment,’ Joanna said, ‘but we will need to speak to Mrs Leech again at some point.’
‘About the burglary?’ Robin demanded.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Then I must insist ...’ the solicitor puffed out his chest, ‘that I be present during all interviews with either Mrs Gilly Leech or Mr Robin Leech.’
Joanna gave him one of her most winning smiles. ‘Certainly,’ she said. ‘Now, Mr Leech, could you just tell me ...’ She pushed across the desk the photograph of Dean Tunstall.
Robin Leech visibly winced.
‘Do you know this boy?’ she asked.
He found it difficult to look at and she had to ask him again. Then he stuttered – No, he didn’t think so.
‘And where were you on Sunday night?’
‘At home.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes,’ he said angrily, ‘I was bloody well alone – watching the telly, if you must know ...’ He was blustering. ‘I watched the damned film. Stupid thing – New York ... murder ... the usual sort of rubbish.’
‘Then why watch it?’ she asked conversationally.
He glowered at her.
‘You live with your mother?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Yes – and no. When my marriage broke up I ... we had the stables converted into a two-bedroomed flat. I live there – alone.
She nodded. ‘Lucky you had some stables.’
The sarcasm was not wasted on him. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said defiantly.
‘No cardboard city for you.’
The solicitor fidgeted.
‘Just one more thing,’ she said, knowing the answer. ‘What car do you drive?’
‘It’s outside,’ he said. ‘A cream Range Rover.’
The solicitor moved again. ‘May I ask why you want to know this?’
She looked coolly at him. ‘Just routine,’ she said.
Robin Leech shot her a furious look.
Joanna stood up. ‘Well, that’s all for now.’ Again she gave both men a broad smile, shook hands with them in turn. ‘Thank you very, very much for calling in.’ She could have been a successful society hostess thanking them for coming to dinner. And it made both men she noticed, quickly discount her as a force to be reckoned with.
She spoke then to the solicitor. ‘I will want to speak to both the Leeches again,’ she said, still in the same ‘society’ tone. ‘But I will certainly let you know.’
The two men filed out and minutes later she heard the splutter of a broken silencer.
Mike looked curiously at her as she walked out of her office. ‘So?’ he said.
She chewed her lip. ‘I can’t see a motive,’ she said, ‘not even a connection at the moment. He denies knowing Dean.’ She clapped him on the shoulder.
‘But I’d love to get forensics on to that Range Rover.’ She sighed. ‘Why does the law protect the guilty so completely? Surely one would think if he is innocent he’d be only too delighted to help the police with their enquiries. But oh no ...’
Mike grinned at her. ‘Police training video,’ he mocked.
‘Sod you,’ she said. ‘I feel like breaking rules today.’
‘Not today. Not with minors. The Super would blow your brains out.’
She gave a long, shuddering yawn.
‘No sleep again?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I keep thinking, cases are always like this. They prey on your mind until they’re solved. Come on. Time to get to The Nest.’
As they drove along the Ashbourne road he filled her in with the details. ‘I suppose Leech is a suspect.’
She nodded. ‘I’d just love to get him dancing on hot coals. There are a few things that bring him to mind. He was the son of his father. That might have given him reason to wish Dean Tunstall out of the way. I dare say exposure – especially posthumous exposure – to the Leech family of unsavoury exploits might have been a potent threat. People like that care more about position and a pure reputation than they do about money or morals. Also the Leechs knew that there was a risk Dean might have contracted Aids if he had been abused by Ashford Leech deceased. Also ...’ she glanced at the DS, ‘he drives a cream Range Rover.’
He nodded.
‘Do we think we could get Alice Rutter to identify it?’
He met her eyes. ‘It’s worth a try.’
‘That’s what I thought. I’ll pick her up tomorrow.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘At the cave.’
Mike looked at her curiously. ‘You seem very relaxed, Jo.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Because we’re getting there, Mike. We’re closing in.’ She met his eyes and felt herself flush. ‘I’m sorry. I must sound overconfident.’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘By the way ... I’ve applied for a warrant to search Keith Latos’s flat and shop. I’m not very happy about him.’ She frowned. ‘I’m sure he’s been lying.’
Mike looked up. ‘What about?’
‘The shoes. They weren’t quite as new as they looked. Clean – yes. New – no. I know it’s a stab in the dark, but I don’t think Dean stole them. I think they might have belonged to someone. If he stole them it was not from a shop but from another person.’
‘Doesn’t that take the heat off Latos?’
‘No. He stays on the list.’
Mike nodded.
‘The one thing we do know,’ she said, ‘is that Dean almost certainly didn’t buy them. He didn’t have the money.’ She looked over at him. ‘Either someone bought them for him – the same person who fed, clothed, cared for him on his mysterious disappearances – or he stole them from someone.’
‘Have we anyone else in the inquiry?’
She shook her head. ‘The uniformed boys have worked really hard, but I can’t say they’ve come up with anything.’
As they neared the large Victorian house, she said, ‘Just fill me in on the children here.’
‘There should be eight,’ he said, ‘but as we know two left earlier on this year. They haven’t, as yet, been replaced.’ He paused. ‘Three of the children are quite young. I think we might find it tricky to get accepted statements from them.’
‘Their names?’
‘The youngest is a little girl called Sonya. She’s four years old, half black. Next is Shirley and she is five. Then comes Timmy who’s eight but he’s retarded with a mental age of five.’
‘And the older children?’
‘Jason and Kirsty,’ he said. ‘Fourteen and thirteen and a half respectively. Unfortunately, from what Eve heard they aren’t exactly the police force’s greatest fans.’
She sighed. ‘Well, if Dean had access to drugs,’ she said, ‘it’s likely they do too.’
They pulled in to the gravelled drive of the children’s home and knocked on the front door. It was flung open by Maree, who looked very angry. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ she demanded. ‘I’ve been here nearly an hour. I’ve a load of work to do.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Joanna said. ‘I did send a message. I was involved with a possible witness.’
‘Yeah, well ...’ the girl said grudgingly, ‘the kids were getting upset. You know what they’re like.’
‘Not as well as you do,’ Joanna said.
Maree grinned and swept her fingers through her hair. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Sorry. Always was a bit fiery. Bark, as you might say. No bite – I assure you.’
‘Good,’ Mike said.
‘I really came to find out a little more about the children.’
‘There isn’t a lot of point you talking to the little ones,’ she said. ‘Sonya, Shirley and Timmy won’t know anything. You’ll get far more out of Jason and Kirsty. They were pretty thick with Dean.’
‘And Mr Riversdale?’
‘You want to speak to him too? Again?’
Joanna nodded.
‘He’s out at the moment. I think he’ll be back though. Soon.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Shopping.’
The three youngest were peeping at them through the banisters ... wide-eyed and innocent they scuttled up the stairs, giggling, as soon as Mike looked up at them.
They saw Kirsty first. ‘Thirteen and a half,’ she said defiantly when Joanna asked her age. She was a small girl with a tight, mean mouth, a heart-shaped face and the green, intelligent eyes of a cat. Today she was wearing thick mascara and a smudge of bright lipstick. The lipstick seemed to add a touch of bravado to the childish face.
‘You were Dean’s friend?’
‘Course.’ Kirsty leaned back on the sofa, her arm extended along the back. ‘We all was. I liked little Dean. He was cute.’
‘Was anybody hurting him?’
‘What do you mean?’
Joanna glanced at the social worker. Maree filled the gap. ‘Was anybody ever cruel to him?’
‘To Dean – no.’ The girl was indignant.
‘We know,’ Joanna said cautiously, ‘that someone was. There were marks.’
The girl looked less defiant. ‘You don’t mean the tattoos, do you? Jason does the tattoos.’ She held her hands out proudly. ‘He did mine.’ She grinned. ‘Professional, aren’t they?’
Joanna raised her eyebrows. ‘Very, but I don’t mean those. I mean the cigarette burns.’
Kirsty looked at the floor. ‘I don’t know about those,’ she said. She gave a helpless glance at Maree. ‘I can’t really say.’
‘Was it Gary?’ Joanna asked. ‘Gary Swinton?’
The girl tightened her lips. ‘It made us brave. Brave so we could stand bein’ hurt.’ She blinked. ‘Dean was brave, you know – really brave. He never shouted out – not once. Not like me. I didn’t like it,’ she said slowly then closed her eyes. ‘The smell, you know.’ Her gaze fixed on Joanna. ‘Burnin’.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Anyway, he’s gone now.’
Maree gave a quiet sound of protest. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
Kirsty gave her a disconcertingly clear stare. ‘What could you do? It’d only ’ave made things worse. Where else was we goin’ to go? Enquiries,’ she muttered. ‘People askin’. No way.
‘Anyway ... He’s gone. Last year some time. He’s in the army now,’ she said proudly. ‘I’ve seen him. Round the town. So it does work, don’t it? It does make you brave.’ And with a curious attempt at logic she said, ‘They wouldn’t have ’im in the army, would they, if he weren’t brave.’
No one in the room had an answer to that. ‘Kirsty.’ Joanna spoke gently. ‘Somebody killed Dean. They murdered him and then tried to burn his body. We want very badly to find out who it was. When we ask you all these questions it’s only to find out who it was. Do you understand?’
‘Course,’ the girl said.
‘Kirsty,’ Joanna tried again, ‘when Dean used to disappear someone looked after him, didn’t they?’
The girl blinked. ‘I don’t know.’
Maree tried next. ‘Kirsty,’ she said, ‘someone must have looked after Dean. He was always clean when he came back. He had money in his pocket. Sometimes he had new clothes. Who bought them for him?’
The girl looked from one to the other. ‘You don’t understand, do you? Dean was close with his secrets. He never told no one. All we knew was he went to his family.’
‘But he had no family,’ Maree replied. ‘His mother abandoned him when he was two.’
‘That’s what you think. She weren’t ’is real mother. If she had have been she wouldn’t have abandoned him. Would she? And another thing ... she can’t have been his real mother. Else where is she now?’
Maree looked helplessly at Joanna.
‘Do you know who killed him?’
‘No.’ The girl’s eyelids fluttered. ‘We all loved Dean. He was a funny little bugger.’
Joanna tried another avenue of questioning. ‘Was it Gary who gave him the drugs?’
Kirsty looked towards Maree. ‘I don’t know a thing about no drugs,’ she said firmly. ‘Not here.’
Again a blank.
‘Were any of the older boys intimate with him?’ Joanna was floundering. The words were old-fashioned – inappropriate. Maree came to the rescue.
‘Interfering,’ she said. ‘You know, like on the telly, that Esther Rantzen thing ... Sexy?’
Kirsty stared at the floor. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know ...’ She looked helplessly at Maree. ‘Please, make her stop. I’ve had enough now,’ she said.
When she had left the room Joanna and Mike looked at Maree. ‘He didn’t have a family,’ she said. ‘His mother abandoned him when he was two. There isn’t a father on his birth certificate. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Well, he was going somewhere,’ Mike pointed out.
Maree sighed. ‘It was in the nature of an imagined friend. He made it up.’ She hesitated. ‘He had to have done. All the kids here have fantasies about wonderful, TV-advert families who are just dying to take them back to the stately home and spend thousands of pounds indulging their every whim.’ She was upset. ‘It’s one of the things I find most pathetic here. They lie.’ She glanced at Joanna. ‘They lie.’
‘And was Dean lying?’ Mike sounded angry. ‘Someone strangled the little blighter – probably a few hours after giving him a fifty-pound pair of Reebok trainers.’
Maree looked away. ‘Adults use the children’s dreams,’ she said, ‘for their own ends.’
Jason was a pale boy, thin with sad eyes and an uncomfortable habit of shaking his head intermittently. He looked younger than the fourteen Maree assured Joanna he was. But before she could ask one question he blinked tightly. ‘I can’t help you.’ He spoke in a low, pleading voice. ‘I haven’t a clue who killed Dean. Honest,’ he said, ‘I don’t know anything.’
He looked terrified.
Joanna tried to put him at his ease. ‘You’re the artist, Jason?’
‘No ... please – leave me alone. I don’t know anything. I haven’t done anything. Don’t ask me.’
Joanna smiled at the boy. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘It’s the job of the police to find out all about Dean. Just tell me a little bit about him. Maree says you three were best friends.’
‘He was clever.’ Jason stared out of the window. ‘Really clever. He knew loads of things. He could get things too.’
‘What sort of things?’
Jason shook his head vaguely. ‘You know, all sorts of things – money, sweets ...’
‘Drugs?’ Joanna asked.
Maree shot her a warning look then turned to reassure the boy. ‘It’s all right, Jason, we don’t want to cause trouble but we know Dean had had some drugs. Where did they come from?’
His whole head bounced rapidly from side to side. ‘Don’t know,’ he said. ‘They’d bloody kill me ...’
Joanna touched his arm. ‘Was it the big boys?’ she asked.
Maree cleared her throat. ‘Inspector ... I must ask you. Don’t put words into his mouth.’
Joanna tried another tack. ‘The two boys who left last year, Swinton and ...’ she glanced through her notebook, ‘and Jim Pullen. Was Dean very good friends with them?’
Jason looked wary. ‘Yes,’ he said casually.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘And now, Jason, why don’t you tell me where Dean used to go when he disappeared?’
‘To his family,’ he said.
Both Mike and Joanna moved forward.
‘What family?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you mean his mother?’ Now Joanna was puzzled. If a mother, then where was she? The child was due to be buried soon and she hadn’t turned up.
She looked at Maree who nodded thoughtfully.
‘I don’t think it was his mother,’ Jason said slowly, frowning in concentration. ‘He always called it his real family. And they was rich,’ he added defiantly.
Maree glanced at Joanna. I told you so.
‘How long had he been in contact with this family?’
‘Ever since ’e was about seven,’ Jason said. ‘That’s when ’e started runnin’ off. ’E might have been seven. ’E bogged off one day when he didn’t fancy goin’ to school. Said he was going to find his ma. It was about a day or two later he came back and he had things. You know – clothes and a new pair of trainers and he had a ten-pound note.’
Joanna felt her pulse quickening. ‘Jason,’ she said softly, ‘this is very important. Where was it? Was it somewhere near or was it far away? How did he find out about it? How did he know they were his real family?’
The boy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Dunno,’ he said, then he stopped. ‘Hang on a minute, I remember now. I told him the police had been all over looking for him and he said ’e’d been right under our noses all the time.’
‘Did he come back in a car?’
Jason shook his head slowly.
‘Please, Jason. This could help us very much. Can you remember if Dean said anything about the place or the people he’d been with?’
The boy shook his head again. ‘He told me it was a secret when I asked him ...’ He turned to Maree. ‘Can I go now?’
She nodded.
Mike stared after him. ‘He knows who it is,’ he said. ‘We’d better watch these kids.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so, Joanna,’ he said.
‘I have a suggestion.’ Maree spoke. ‘Let me talk to them. I’ve known them for years. They trust me. Besides,’ she pointed out, ‘they’re far more likely to confide in me than they are in you.’
They had to agree.
Mike sat down and looked at the two women. ‘The question is,’ he said, ‘is he telling the truth?’
‘Well?’ Joanna spoke to Maree.
The social worker thought for a moment. ‘I’ve known Jason for about ten years,’ she said. ‘As you probably gathered he isn’t very bright. But neither is he imaginative ... Of the two, Dean would have been far more likely to fabricate a story. But ...’ she held one finger up to give the words emphasis, ‘if ... if any part of this story is to be believed, and just assuming that it is true ...’
‘What?’ Mike asked angrily. ‘That some raving homo took a little kid home, buggered him and then bought him clothes, gave him money and sent him packing?’
‘What I’m saying is,’ Maree spoke patiently, ‘if it did happen, I very much doubt that it was Dean’s father. There is no father.’
‘There has to be one,’ Mike said. ‘Biologically.’
‘It’s a space on the birth certificate.’
‘He never said where he got to on his “excursions”,’ Joanna reminded them. ‘So,’ she frowned, ‘assuming that it was this “father” who killed Dean — possibly because things were getting too dangerous if Dean did talk to Jason – Jason himself is in danger.’
‘He could still have thieved the stuff,’ Mike said.
‘I don’t think he did.’ Joanna was thoughtful. ‘He was a very pretty child – easy prey to someone with predatory instincts. I believe someone was conning him.’
‘All right then,’ Mike said. ‘Who? The person had to have somewhere to keep him. He was sometimes gone for days on end. It had to be somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed.’
‘My money goes on Latos,’ Joanna said. ‘The sooner we poke around his premises the better.’ She looked at Mike. ‘I want pictures of Dean to saturate the town. All I want is one sighting of them together by a witness who will stand up in court. That’s all I ask.’ She turned to the other two in the room. ‘Not a lot, is it?’
She crossed the room towards the window and caught sight of Mark Riversdale’s battered white Vauxhall spin to a halt at the top of the drive. ‘And this is where we get more facts from.’
The three of them watched silently as he opened the door of the Cavalier and climbed out. He stood for a moment, staring at the police car, his hands in his pockets. Then he lifted the tail door and struggled with a cardboard box. A minute later they heard him open the front door and footsteps along the passage. There were voices in the kitchen then he entered the living room.
He held out his hand. ‘Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. We ran out of a few things.’
He was sweating profusely and nervously wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. ‘Hot, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t find it so.’ Mike was at his most stolid.
Mark Riversdale chose to ignore the remark. He sat down heavily on the sofa and glanced at Maree. ‘Any problems?’
‘They weren’t terribly helpful,’ she said, ‘but we didn’t try too hard – didn’t want to upset them.’
He nodded.
Joanna spoke then. ‘I’m sure they know something, but they’re not telling. Please – can you impress on them they are in danger if they don’t tell us all they know. Someone killed Dean. I believe they could strike again. Until the killer is caught they are in danger.’ She paused as Mark Riversdale’s eyes flickered over her. ‘You’ve worked here for how long?’
‘Eighteen months,’ he said cautiously.
‘So you were here when Gary Swinton lived here?’
He nodded. ‘And glad when he left.’
‘Were you aware he was bullying some of the younger children?’
‘Look,’ he said, ‘it happens in these sorts of places. There isn’t a lot you can do about it.’
‘Couldn’t you have tackled him about it?’
He grimaced. ‘It makes things worse for the kids,’ he said. ‘They would have been picked on more than ever.’
‘And you find drugs acceptable too?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘What do you expect me to do? Bring the police in?’
‘It might seem a good idea.’ Mike’s tone was hostile, his dislike shining through his words. ‘It’s what we’re here for.’
‘It wasn’t a big problem,’ he said defensively.
‘Dean was given injected drugs on more than one occasion,’ Joanna said.
Mark Riversdale blinked. ‘Not here he wasn’t. I’d have known ... A few tablets at the most.’
‘Tablets you don’t mind, she said sharply.
‘I do mind.’ He glared at her. ‘But I am realistic. In a place like this you don’t get choirboys, you know. What you get is problems. Problems no one else wants to take on. If I keep them alive and get fifty per cent school attendance, and keep them out of the Young Offenders Institution until they’re sixteen, I consider I’m doing pretty well. I don’t even look for such things as GCSEs or university entrance, Inspector.’
Joanna could almost feel Mike Korpanski’s hackles rise and the heat increase in the room. She cleared her throat and tried a new tack. ‘What did you do before you came here?’
‘I worked in local government,’ he said.
‘Which department?’
‘Inland Revenue,’ he said ruefully, and gave a slight, tentative smile.
She met his eyes. ‘Why did you leave?’
He looked paralysed by the question. ‘I... I... I wanted a change.’ It sounded lame.
‘What made you come here?’ she asked.
‘I’m fond of children,’ he said.
‘But you have none of your own?’
‘I’m not married,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘A girlfriend, perhaps?’
‘Not at the moment.’
‘I see.’ She paused for a moment to regroup her questions. ‘When you came here, Mr Riversdale, what did you think of Dean?’
He thought for a minute. ‘Confident, prone to telling stories –’
She interrupted. ‘What sort of stories?’
‘The usual ones, having a family, money, they were coming to claim him one day ... All rather pathetic really.’
She looked enquiringly.
‘They haven’t a family,’ he said, ‘so they invent one.’
‘There is no family?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘His mother has shown no interest at all in him since he was a baby. A brief visit when he was two, since then – nothing. You can look at his case file if you like.’
‘Thank you ... Mr Riversdale ...’ She paused. ‘Let me just get this right. Are you saying that although Dean had been badly treated – on PM it was noted he had been physically and sexually abused – you can shed no light on this?’
‘Not since I’ve been here,’ he said, glancing angrily at Maree. ‘You’ve looked after him longer than I have. Why aren’t they asking you all the questions?’
‘Calm down, Mark,’ she said quietly. “They’ve already asked me all this. I couldn’t help them any more than you could. But you lived with him.’
He looked ashamed. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I lived with him.’
Joanna was suddenly angry. She looked at Riversdale and then at the social worker. ‘You two were in charge of this boy,’ she said. ‘He was a child in your care. I want to know. What was going on?’ Her eyes, Mike noted, had changed colour to a steely grey-blue. At the station this was the sign they all dreaded, this cold grey anger. The angry gypsy. ‘I warn you both,’ she said. ‘A police enquiry will be intrusive and merciless. It would be better if one of you told me the full truth. Who was sexually abusing Dean?’
They looked at one another.
Joanna spoke again. ‘All right.’ She stared at Mark. ‘Was it you?’
He began to bluster then – to deny it hotly. He had been in charge of the boy ... in loco parentis ... definitely not.
And all the time Joanna watched him and wondered.
‘Let me put it another way ... did you suspect he was being abused?’
They both nodded.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Who did you think it was?’
It was Maree who spoke. ‘We thought it was Leech,’ she said. ‘But we didn’t dare do anything about it. He was a powerful man, and a vocal one too. Besides, Dean was really fond of him.’
‘And to your knowledge,’ she asked, ‘did he know Keith Latos?’
They looked at one another again.
‘He has the sports shop on the high street,’ Joanna explained, but both shook their heads.
‘Not as far as we know.’
‘And where do you think Dean disappeared to when he absconded?’
‘We just didn’t know,’ Riversdale said. ‘We couldn’t get to the bottom of it. We noticed he seemed ill once or twice when he came home. We were going to do something about it. Then it stopped. He had been much better. He even stayed here for two months at a time.’ He looked at her. ‘That’s why I didn’t think he’d gone this time.’
‘Well, he had,’ she said brutally. ‘But you can stop worrying about Dean. He’s out of your hands now. Just start worrying about the two we spoke to this morning. Now – let’s start again. Where did he go?’
They were both silent.
Maree spoke first. ‘We honestly don’t know, Inspector.’
She turned to Mark. ‘All right then, Mr Riversdale, where did you think he went?’
‘I don’t know.’ His voice was shaking, his hands were too.
Joanna knew she could have continued further, broken him. But time and the law had taught her other ways. She stood up and stared for a moment at him. ‘We will want to question you further,’ she said, ‘at the station.’
‘When?’ The panic in his voice made him squeak the word.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Will you be pressing charges?’ he asked timidly.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But if I were you I would be prepared to face an internal inquiry at the very least – if not criminal charges.’
As she walked to the police car Joanna glanced back into the room. Mark Riversdale was sitting on the sofa, his face in his hands. Maree was standing over him, shouting. As her eyes travelled up to the bedroom window she saw Kirsty and Jason staring down at her. As soon as they realized they had been seen they disappeared from view.
‘Honestly,’ she said to Mike as they turned out into the main road, ‘I thought the days of the workhouse and Oliver Twist were over and done with. Christ,’ she exploded, ‘he’s worse than the bloody beadle.’
‘Yes, but what else?’ Mike asked. ‘How much of that poor kid’s troubles came from Riversdale himself?’
‘What do you think?’
Mike considered for a moment before he spoke. ‘Not sure,’ he said.
It was quiet in the cottage as she let herself in through the front door, and after the bustle of the station working to capacity over the murder hunt she felt enveloped by loneliness. She sat in the dark for a long while, trying to ponder the case. She forced herself to picture the child – alive ... analyse his life and relationships. And the more she thought the stronger became the conviction that Jason and Kirsty held the answers to many questions she would like to put to them. She chewed her lip and decided she would pay another visit to The Nest in the morning.
And then slowly would follow the exposures ... uncomfortable ones. Unpleasant and dirty secrets would be dug up. Questions would be asked. And the whisperings would start. She was only now beginning to understand the basics of this case. She closed her eyes and dreamed.
The telephone woke her much later. She picked it up and yawned into the receiver. ‘Hello?’
‘Joanna.’
She didn’t know whether to be glad or sad it was Caro. But she did feel a snag of apprehension.
‘I said I’d help you find Dean’s mother,’ she said. ‘Get the paper tomorrow. If it doesn’t bring results I’ll munch my way through a morning copy. I promise. You can watch.’
Joanna laughed, lifted by the tone of mischief in her friend’s voice. ‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘Scratch my back,’ Caro said gaily, ‘and I’ll scratch yours.’
‘Your headline on the ring brought results.’
‘Really?’
‘Brought Robin Leech down on me like a ton of bricks.’
‘Power of the pen,’ Caro said lightly, then added, ‘When’s Matthew back?’
‘I don’t know – a couple of days.’
‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘And I wonder what will happen then.’
‘I don’t know,’ Joanna said shortly.
‘I’ll be in touch.’ And the line went dead.