Will unfolded his arms and leaned on the table as the detective pulled out his chair and ran his hand over his face.
‘Keep talking.’
‘After dad was taken, our mum fell to pieces. Sure, the neighbours helped where they could, but I got into trouble at school – truancy, that sort of thing. About a year later, one of mum’s cousins turned up and took us all back to England to live with her. In a way, it was good – it got mum the care she needed.’
‘But?’
‘It felt like they were trying to forget dad,’ said Will. ‘It was like they were trying to pretend it didn’t happen.’
‘Maybe they were scared?’
Will snorted. ‘Of course they were.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘It was pretty obvious that the police were never going to find out what happened to my dad, so when I was about fifteen, I mentioned to Amy that perhaps we should try.’ He smiled. ‘She was really into her mystery books and already talking about going to university, so I encouraged her. Suggested she look at becoming a journalist.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘She was a natural.’
‘So you waited until she got out of university, then turned her loose, is that it?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘What did you do in the meantime?’
‘Kept my head down and my eyes and ears open. We had scraps of information – things we’d overheard as kids, stuff the police would tell mum when they phoned with updates. Amy started researching archived newspaper articles about organised crime in Northern Ireland back when the peace accord negotiations were taking place – Belfast was rife with armed gangs. Some of the names sounded familiar, so we started there and she began to establish a pattern.’
‘Which is how she traced Mack.’
‘I guess.’
Lake took a sip of water, and then turned the glass in his hand. ‘What I don’t understand, Will, is if she had all this information, why didn’t she tell you? Why send you cryptic messages and send you running round half the country to piece this together once she’d been shot? What went wrong?’
Will looked down at his hands. ‘We had a disagreement on Sunday night.’
‘What sort of disagreement?’
Will sighed. ‘It was stupid, just one of those stupid arguments that happen.’
‘Go on.’
‘She wouldn’t tell me what she’d found out because she was scared what I would do with that information.’ He picked up the robot toy and turned it in his hand. ‘She was worried that I’d kill whoever killed our dad.’
Lake leaned back in his chair and stared at Will. ‘And would you?’
‘At the time, I was pretty angry, yeah.’ He paused. ‘But in hindsight, what Amy proposed made a lot more sense. I was going to tell her Monday morning that she was right, that I’d do what she said.’ He wiped his eyes. ‘She was a great reporter. It would have made her a star.’ He sniffled. ‘But when I went to apologise, she’d already gone. I didn’t get the chance,’ he whispered.
The detective moved across the room, picked up a box of tissues from a corner cabinet, and slid it across the table to Will.
‘I’m not even going to bother trying to tell you that you should’ve brought everything you had to us,’ he said.
Will nodded, pulled a tissue from the box, and blew his nose. ‘I know we should have,’ he said. ‘But trust me when you’ve spent most of your life listening to people tell you they can’t help, that they can’t do anything for you, you give up – or fix it yourself.’
‘Did you know Mack was going to go to Rossiter’s house?’
Will shook his head. ‘I thought Rossiter’s men found Mack and took him there.’
‘So you’ve never seen this?’
Will’s eyes opened wide as the detective pushed a plastic bag across the table towards him. Inside, a revolver shone under the plastic, despite the white forensic powder that blotched its surface in places.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Should I have?’
The policeman’s lips pursed and he pushed a second plastic wallet across the desk.
Will recognised the photograph. It was the one Mack had given to him, the one he’d handed over to the detective on their arrival at the police station.
The one his dad had taken.
He blinked, not understanding.
‘It’s the same gun, Will.’
He glanced across at the detective, then reached out, picked up the plastic wallet, and squinted at the image.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ Lake leaned back in his chair. ‘In fact, as we speak, my colleagues are talking with our counterparts in Northern Ireland about a cold case they have. A businessman who turned up dead several years ago, a single gunshot wound to his head.’
He leaned forward and tapped the photograph, then the gun.
‘I’m not usually a betting man, Mr Fletcher, but I’ll wager the ballistics match this gun.’
Will sensed the pieces falling into place. ‘Mack never meant to shoot Rossiter, did he?’ he said in wonder.
The detective shook his head. ‘I don’t believe so, no. I think he wanted to make sure that gun was in Rossiter’s possession when we turned up.’ The policeman gathered the evidence bags together. ‘I don’t think even he imagined that Rossiter would take his own life.’
‘Mack didn’t shoot him?’
‘No. Rossiter panicked,’ said Lake. ‘Caught us all by surprise. The moment he realised he was going to be placed under arrest, he shot himself.’
Will exhaled, a wave of relief engulfing him. ‘So Mack’s free to leave?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said the detective. He folded his arms on the table. ‘Mack’s been a wanted man for years, Will. He’s not innocent. He did some pretty bad things in his time.’
Will opened his mouth to ask what Mack had done, then thought better of it. ‘What will happen to him?’
‘He’s been formally charged.’ Lake rubbed a hand across his eyes, and Will realised for the first time how exhausted the policeman looked. ‘Given his past track record, he’s going to be looking at a long sentence.’
‘You know he has cancer?’
Lake nodded. ‘And he’ll get looked after by the prison authorities; don’t worry. In fact,’ he sighed. ‘He’ll probably last longer in prison than he would have in that damp two-up two-down he was renting.’ He leaned forward. ‘Is there anything else you need to tell me, Will?’
Will shook his head.
‘I need you to state that out loud,’ said Lake, pointing at the recorder.
‘No,’ said Will. ‘There’s nothing else. That’s it.’ He reached for another tissue and wiped his eyes, drained of all emotion.
The detective stopped the voice recorder, stood, and motioned Will towards the door. ‘One of our people will be in touch once this has been typed up,’ he said. ‘You’re welcome to go and wait in the cafeteria on the second floor – there’s a television there and magazines. You’ll be asked to read through the statement and sign it.’
‘And Erin?’
‘She’s been speaking to a female police officer. We have her statement as well.’ He led Will along the corridor. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where you can wait.’
Will followed him towards the elevators, their footsteps muted on the faded blue carpet.
As they turned the corner into the reception area, his gaze found Erin’s, and she rose from her seat, her face pale.
He met her halfway, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair.
‘It’s over,’ he whispered.
She raised her eyes to his. ‘Thank you.’
They moved towards the cafeteria, the senior policeman showing them where to find the coffee machine before leaving them alone with the instruction they were to stay in the room until he returned.
Will waited until Erin had sat, then fetched them a hot drink and switched on the small television in the corner.
Grabbing the remote control, he joined her at the table and sifted through the channels, surfing aimlessly between the programmes.
‘Wait.’ Erin’s hand hovered over the remote. ‘Go back.’
Will pressed the button until a news bulletin appeared, the familiar red and white logo next to the reporter’s face, and turned up the volume.
‘Sources close to Mr Rossiter’s political party are currently unavailable for comment regarding the allegations that appeared in the newspaper earlier this morning. However we understand that Mr Rossiter was wounded in a home invasion last night…’
They both turned at the sound of footsteps to see the detective standing in the doorway.
‘Home invasion?’ said Will. ‘Is that how this is going to be reported?’
‘For the moment,’ said Lake. ‘In about an hour, the Chief Commissioner will make a statement, saying that we’re looking into allegations of corruption.’
He joined them at the table. ‘We have to work with the media and the government on this, Will. We’re going to tell the public the truth, but we have to manage the process.’ He held up his hand. ‘It’s in your interests as well. The last thing we want is for you to be hounded by the press. And they will.’ He glanced back to the screen. ‘At least this way, you get the chance to make some alternative living arrangements.’
Will rubbed his eyes. ‘They’re going to be like a pack of wolves, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, they are.’
They turned at the sound of someone clearing his throat to see a junior constable standing in the doorway, a pen and a sheaf of papers in his hand.
The detective took the documents and dismissed him, then put the pages on the table, one set in front of Will and the other next to Erin.
‘For you. Read it through. Make sure you’re happy with it before signing.’
Will took his typed statement and sank onto one of the plastic chairs, his eyes skimming the words. He wiped away the tears that threatened to fall as he realised the pages signified an end to his life as he’d known it. All he’d ever wanted was revenge, and it scared him what he had lost in that pursuit, and that he didn’t yet know how he was going to fill the gap.
Erin moved beside him, and then leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘We’ll be okay, Will.’
He slipped an arm around her and picked up the pen. He paused and glanced up to see the detective watching him, his arms crossed, his expression pensive. Will nodded, then began to scratch his signature at the foot of each page and handed the document over.
’Thank you.’ Lake took the pages and slipped them into a folder. ‘I’ll show you the way out.’
Will took Erin’s hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’
They moved towards the elevators, and Will punched the button.
‘What will you do when you leave here?’ asked the detective, passing the paperwork to the desk sergeant and joining them.
Will shrugged. ‘I’m not sure,’ he mumbled.
He glanced up at the sound of a ping and pulled Erin to one side to let a young policewoman pass before they stepped into the empty elevator.
Lake held out his hand to stop the doors closing. ‘If I could make a suggestion?’
Will lifted his head. ‘What?’
‘Leave it to the experts next time.’