‘Mick.’ Grahamslaw called loudly to his Superintendent through the open office door. He’d just caught a glimpse of his number two heading towards the main squad office.
A moment later, Parratt leaned his bulky form around the door post. ‘You rang, m’lord?’
‘Come in and shut the door, will you?’
Parratt did as ordered. ‘Developments?’ he enquired.
‘You first. What’s the latest from the hospital?’
‘He’s still unconscious. According to Mellor, he’s swallowed ketamine. If the son hadn’t found him, he may well have died.’
‘And Complaints Branch are certain it’s a domestic?’
‘A bit early to say, but it looks that way. Does Finlay know yet?’
‘That’s why I called you in. He’s on his way up right now.’
A loud knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Parratt turned towards the sound. ‘Want me to stay?’ he asked.
Grahamslaw lowered his voice. ‘Best you do. This is gonna be a toughie. They go back a long way.’
Parratt opened the door, called the Inspector in and then closed it again behind him.
The Commander indicated they should both sit down. Finlay was sweating and looked flustered, as if he’d been rushing, or even running. ‘Can I get you a brew, Inspector?’ he asked, trying to create a sense of calm.
Finlay took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps later, if you don’t mind, sir. I was out at a meeting when I got your text.’
‘OK … well, I’ve been mulling over how to break this to you for the last hour and I haven’t come up with a good way. So, I’m just going to tell you straight. There’s been an incident involving Kevin Jones.’
‘What kind of incident?’
‘A bad one. Yesterday afternoon a lad arrived home from school to find his mother dead and her boyfriend unconscious on the living-room floor having taken a drug overdose. The woman I believe you know. Her name is Sandra Beattie. The suspect is your mate, Kevin.’
Finlay sat stony-faced for several seconds, before turning his gaze towards the window. It wasn’t the response Grahamslaw had expected.
Parratt came to the rescue. ‘Kevin is alive, Inspector,’ he said, his tone kind and warm, as reassuring as seemed appropriate. ‘Mrs Beattie’s son arrived home from school early and found them. He called an ambulance and they managed to get Kevin to hospital in time.’
‘Can I see him?’ Finlay said, his voice quavering as he continued staring out the window.
‘He’s in custody, under arrest. I doubt if he’ll be allowed visits just yet.’
‘What happened?’
Parratt continued. ‘It’s all a wee bit sketchy at the moment due to Complaints Branch having taken over supervision of the enquiry.’
‘Is that normal?’
‘Yes. The immediate criminal investigation will be conducted by the local Major Investigation team, but CIB will have a big say in decisions.’
‘So, what do we know?’
‘It seems to have been some kind of sex-game gone wrong. Jones was unconscious near the front door. Mrs Beattie was found upstairs in the main bedroom and from the fact that she was tied to the bed wearing just her underwear, it looks like Kevin might have … killed her…’
‘He wouldn’t do that … not Kev.’
‘All aspects have to be looked at, as I’m sure you know, Finlay. And all possibilities explored. It’s quite possible it was an accident, but, even then, Kevin could be facing a manslaughter charge.’
Finlay stood up, the legs of his chair rubbing noisily on the carpet. ‘I need to make some calls,’ he said, quietly.
‘I’m sorry you had to wait to hear this,’ said Grahamslaw. ‘But, I thought it best you got the news from me. I’ll get Mr Parratt here to find out as much as we can and we’ll be in touch.’
‘I just came back from seeing Toni Fellowes. I thought her reaction was odd when I said I was going to ring Kevin. Now I know why.’
As the door closed behind the departing Inspector, both men exhaled, but neither spoke.
No words seemed suitable.