Death Row - Mark Pearson [117]
‘What’s going to happen to me now?’ asked Jennifer. ‘I can’t stay here. I have to get home. My sister isn’t safe.’
‘You had a large amount of money on you when you were arrested, Jennifer,’ said Delaney.
Jennifer shrank back in the chair. ‘It’s mine. I earned it. It’s so we could get away.’
‘It’s okay, Jennifer, you don’t have to say anything. Not now,’ said Kate.
‘But I have to. He might hurt her!’ she said
‘Who?’ asked Delaney.
‘My aunt’s boyfriend.’
*
Dawn had broken an hour earlier on the Waterhill estate but there were very few signs of life stirring.
Angela Hickling, yawning and with tousled hair, opened the front door, puzzled to see Jack Delaney and Kate Walker standing on the doorstep.
‘Who are you?’ she asked
‘We’re the police,’ said Delaney.
The colour drained from the young girl’s face.
‘It’s okay, Angela,’ said Kate. ‘Jennifer is perfectly safe – she is waiting for you in the car, see?’
Jennifer was sitting with Sally Cartwright in the back of Kate’s car. She waved across to her sister.
‘What do you want, then?’
‘We came to get you.’
‘And I came to have a word with your aunt’s boyfriend. I understand you aunt doesn’t live here any more?’ said Delaney, with a reassuring smile that belied his true emotions as the girl shook her head. ‘He hasn’t hurt you, has he?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, then. Let’s go and see Jennifer.’ Kate took the young girl’s hand and led her away as a man stumbled down the stairs and into the hall.
Delaney stepped into the house, pulling the door half shut behind him.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ said the man, blinking at him.
‘You don’t know?’ asked Delaney.
‘No, I fucking don’t.’
‘Good,’ said Delaney and punched him hard on the bridge of the nose, dropping him like a stun-gunned pig.
Delaney looked down at the motionless man for a satisfied moment. ‘We’ll be back to pick you up later,’ he said.
Delaney closed the door behind him and looked across to see Jennifer Hickling, out of the car now, hugging her little sister. Hugging her as if her life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
He pulled out his phone and punched in some numbers, his breath frosting in the cold air as he waited for it to be answered.
‘Mary,’ he said, ‘it’s Jack. I need your help.’
*
An hour later and Delaney and Kate stood in Dean Anderson’s office, watching through the windows as uniformed police led a handcuffed Malik Hussein across the quad to waiting police cars. Sally Cartwright peeled off from the group, heading towards the office.
‘The Outback is very popular with the gay community,’ Delaney was telling the Dean. ‘I suppose there was a clue in the name.’
‘That copy of The Catcher in the Rye in Jamil’s room. The dedication in the front …?’ Kate asked.
Sheila Anderson smiled sadly. ‘I originally gave it to my son in his first year at university,’ she said. ‘He died last year in Afghanistan. 33 Engineer Regiment. The Royal Engineers.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ said Delaney.
‘Thank you, inspector. So much wasted youth.’ She took a breath and smiled. ‘I had lent the book to Matt Henson. It is a book that speaks to the young and Matt had difficulty with reading. I was helping him with that.’
‘And so was Jamil?’
‘It looks that way, yes.’
‘Matt has great potential. The potential to be different.’
‘Different from his brother and father, you mean?’ asked Kate.
‘Yes. And different from what was written down for him. It’s what education is all about.’
‘At least, it used to be,’ said Kate.
‘True,’ conceded the Dean. ‘Money seems to be the driving force for a lot of institutions nowadays. But not all. Not all.’
Sally knocked on the door as a courtesy. ‘He didn’t even deny it,’ she said as she came in. ‘Seemed proud of himself, in fact, said he was disappointed that Jamil was going to live but there was a death sentence waiting for him when he gets home anyway.’
‘They execute homosexuals in Iran, Sally,’ said Delaney.
‘I know, sir,’ the detective constable replied, with a quirked eyebrow. ‘I do read the news!’ She looked pointedly