‘What?’
‘It’s not me you need to say sorry to. Write a letter for the lad on Saturday. Tell him you’re sorry.’
He looked aghast.
Janine started the car. Gave him a rueful smile.
‘Turning it round, Michael. It starts here – putting things right.’
Jade was next. Megan was just coming out, she’d been dead quick.
‘What did you get?’ Jade asked as she passed her.
‘Two Hail Marys.’
What would Jade get? A decade of the rosary? She hadn’t any beads. The one she got for her communion had broken and she had saved them to try and fix the little wire back together but then they’d got lost.
She pulled aside the curtain and knelt on the small hassock next to the screen. The confession booths were dark with wooden walls and they smelt of Mr Sheen and when you knelt down it was red velvet. She could see Father Donovan a bit through the mesh, his head tipped towards her and his eyes closed. She looked away, you weren’t meant to look at the priest, you had to look into your soul.
‘It’s four weeks since my last confession, Father.’
‘I see. Will you say the confession prayer now?’
‘I confess to almighty God that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do; and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, and all the angels and saints, to pray for me to the lord our God.’
‘Now you can start your confession.’
Jade felt a bump in her chest. ‘I promised my mam that I wouldn’t play down the back and I went one day. Only for a bit, though.’
‘Now, why does your mum not want you down there playing?’
‘Not safe.’
‘It’s very important to keep those rules, the ones that keep us safe. Are you sorry for what you did?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘And you won’t be doing it again now, will you?’
‘No, Father.’
‘Good. Is there anything else?’
‘And I told lies,’ Jade said, then very fast so maybe he wouldn’t catch it all, ‘to the policeman. I said I didn’t see anyone and I did.’
‘See anybody?’
‘On the allotments, on Saturday, you know.’
‘Do you mean where that man was… found.’
‘Yes, Father.’ Jade’s eyes had gone all hot now.
‘But you did see somebody?’
‘Yes. I saw someone running away. I’m sorry I was so scared!’
‘Now, I’m glad you’ve told me, God is proud of us when we tell the truth, even if that means we have to be very brave about it. And I think it would be a big help for the police if you told them as well.’
‘But…’
‘I can have a word with your mum and make sure everything’s all right on that score. What do you say?’
Jade knew she couldn’t say no. Now she’d be in trouble. Big trouble. ‘Yes, Father.’
‘Nothing, boss,’ Butchers shook his head. ‘They’ve taken the place apart. Search completed.’
Janine felt like kicking someone. The clothes couldn't have disappeared, but without a break she could not hold Lesley Tulley any longer.
‘Let her go.’
She was so disheartened. A few hours and her chance for a result would be over, passed on to O’Halloran. The Lemon would have something to gloat about.
Dean was remembering. Couldn’t stop remembering, like someone scratching, the same sample over and over.
His first thought when the guy had shoved him was a mugging. Dean putting his hands up: ‘Hang on, mate.’ Saw the knife. Then the guy was holding it under his neck. A cool slice of metal against his throat. Dean was thinking please don’t cut me, trying to keep his eyes calm so the guy wouldn’t get more manic and top him.
‘I’ve got money,’ Dean had said to buy time but it came out quiet because he daren’t move too much with the knife there.
‘Turn round.’
Still not getting it. Turning, keeping his hands away so the guy can pat him down and take the bit of cash he’s got left. Hand on him, pulling at his joggers, one swift yank, then his pants. The guy slammed him against the wall, he turned his face to the left to save his nose. The knife was by his chin, against the brick. Dean could smell the damp mortar, feel the moisture from the stone on his right cheek. He heard traffic and a girl laughing and a boom-box passing by and blood rushing through his ears.
Then Dean was crying with shock and pain, knowing what the guy was doing to him. The guy pulled away. His right hand on Dean’s shoulder, left grasping the knife. Dean could smell the stink of the guy’s deodorant and the grease on the air from some take-away. He felt this wildness in him, coming up, like something he couldn’t stop. A roll of anger surfing away the fear. He didn’t plan it, there was no time for that, he just moved.
He had swung round and threw his own body back against the guy, using the wall to wind him. Dean smacked the man’s wrist against the brick until he dropped the knife. Breathing hard, Dean went for it. In slow motion, he watched his own fingers curl around the handle and lift it from the ground. The ground speckled with drops of light, a rainbow circle of oil and fragments of glass. The handle was warm. He was straightening up, saw the guy’s fist come at him from the corner of his eye. Stabbed the knife in and pulled up. Easy motion, like ripping rotten cloth. Up and up till he hit bone.
When he got home, he sat rocking in the dark. Same as when his mum died and they took him into care.
Shap had taken the call from the priest while Janine was out with Michael. He’d left a memo for Butchers and gone to see what the story was. They both expected it to be a wild goose chase. Impressionable kid wanting fifteen minutes of fame or some extra attention.
He sat in the kid’s house while she told him, her eyes wide, her mum looking on with thinly veiled dismay.
‘It was the lady on telly. The one on the news that was asking for help.’
‘What was the lady doing?’
‘Running away.’
‘What else can you remember about her?’
‘Someone had hurt her.’
Shap looked sceptical.
‘They did,’ she insisted. ‘They’d battered her and she was all covered in blood. Like a nosebleed.’
Shap pulled out his phone, asked the kid a couple more questions then rang it in.
At the station Richard answered the phone in the murder room. Listened to Shap and then reported to Janine.
‘Kid at number three saw Lesley Tulley running from the scene, dripping blood on Saturday morning.’
Surprise rippled across Janine’s face. ‘Why the hell didn’t we have this sooner?’
‘They weren’t home in the first house-to-house. When Butchers finally questioned her, the kid lied. She was forbidden to play on the allotments. Couldn’t tell us without getting in trouble.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Time?’
‘Definitely before 9.25. She saw…’ he paused to check his notes, ‘the end of Digit?’
Janine smiled at his mistake. ‘Diggit. How old?’
‘Seven.’
Janine winced. Very young. ‘A witness, though. I’m bringing Lesley back in.’
She grabbed her coat.
‘Is it enough?’ Richard said.
‘It’s all I’ve got. I’m buggered if I’m going to let O’Halloran waltz in and get the credit. We’ve worked damn hard on this and we’re nearly there. Well?’
Richard picked up his own coat. ‘You’re the boss.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lesley felt drained, her whole body ached as though she had been physically beaten. She stared at the mug in her hand. Let her thoughts drift.
‘Lesley,’ Emma startled her. ‘It’s your friend John again.