‘You know, of course, he’s been arrested for abusing his two daughters?’
Although Bryant spoke gently, the starkness of the question remained.
Charlie Cook shook his head vigorously. ‘I doe know nothing about any of that. We just meet now and again to talk about books.’
His eyes darted between them.
Bryant nodded his understanding.
‘Yeah, I’m in a book club, myself. Great to meet up with the boys now and again.’
Kim showed no surprise at his lie.
Bryant moved forward and leaned on the counter. ‘Missus thinks it’s a cover-up for something else.’
The redness travelled north.
‘It’s no cover-up … I swear … we read books … and then discuss ’em. It’s all we do … honest to God …’
‘Yeah, my missus thinks we just go out on the piss.’
Charlie visibly relaxed. He smiled and the redness dropped a notch.
‘But see, the thing is, we know someone else is involved in what Leonard Dunn was doing.’
The redness rose up like a blanket.
Charlie shook his head vigorously. ‘Nah mate … no way. Not one of us. No chance. Sick mate. Nah, not little girls … makes me ill. All we do is talk about books. Just the thought …’
‘Okay, Charlie,’ Bryant said, holding up a hand. ‘But we gotta ask.’
‘Oh yeah … yeah … course. I get it.’
‘Well, if you think of anything that might help, give us a shout.’
Charlie’s skin began to return to its normal colour at the prospect of them leaving.
He offered a trembling hand across the counter and Bryant was brave enough to take it.
Kim headed towards the door. Bryant followed for a few steps and turned.
‘Oh, my club read The Longest Road, last month,’ Bryant offered, naming the book Stacey had mentioned.
‘Yeah, yeah. Good book.’
Bryant shrugged. ‘Just disappointed that Amy Blake died in the end. I liked that character.’
Charlie nodded vigorously. ‘Yeah … yeah … a real shame.’
Kim shook her head and continued to the door.
Bryant materialised beside her as they dodged a group of school kids.
She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘You know, Bryant, there’s a compliment in my throat but it’s stuck, right there,’ she said, pointing to her neck.
‘Cheers, Guv, in which case you’re gonna love this. Book club, my arse. I read up on that book while you were at the dentist. And there’s no such character as Amy Blake.’
FORTY-NINE
‘Should have bloody said no to this,’ Dawson moaned, sliding against the car door.
Stacey laughed. ‘Yeah, let me know when you’re gonna say no to the boss. I’ll book a venue, sell tickets, the lot.’
‘Yeah, I suppose this is a night out for you,’ he said.
Kim had asked them to keep an eye on Charlie Cook. See what he got up to. After interviewing him earlier that day, there was a suspicion that something wasn’t right.
He had entered his one-bedroom council flat half an hour ago and they’d been keeping watch ever since.
‘For your information, Kev. I might be gooin out soon.’
He turned to look at her in the car.
‘No way. You’ve actually got a date, like a proper one?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Come on, Stace, spill. Male or female?’
Her bisexuality was known to her colleagues, although it wasn’t something she advertised. Her parents were old-fashioned and clung to certain beliefs. Anything other than heterosexuality was a choice that should not be made.
But she wasn’t from Africa. Her parents were. England was the only home she’d ever known.
‘Female,’ Stacey answered.
Realisation dawned in his eyes. Which grew into a sardonic smile.
‘I know who it is.’
‘Don’t be pissed, just ’cos she liked me better than you.’
He shook his head. ‘Nah, fair play, Stace. Trish is a great girl.’
Stacey hadn’t yet properly decided, but she was erring on the side of yes.
‘Hey, Cook’s on the move.’
Stacey put her hand on the ignition key.
‘Hang on,’ Kev said. ‘It looks like he’s walking.’
‘Shiiit,’ she said, as they both exited the car.
The street was in the centre of a housing estate. With alleys and gullies all around. Stacey’s best friend as a teenager had lived two hundred metres from where they now stood. The two of them had spent many hours aimlessly walking these streets.
They stood behind a privet hedge. Stacey poked her head around. ‘He’s heading for an alley that leads under a railway bridge.’
‘Can we get behind him?’ Dawson asked.
Stacey shook her head. ‘It’s not long enough. If he turns, he’ll see us.’
As soon as he was out of view, they charged across the road. Stacey took a quick look. There wasn’t enough space between them.
‘Where does it lead?’ Dawson asked.
‘Sutherland Road. If he goes left he’s going through a trading estate. Right is a row of terraced houses and opposite is a field and a park.’
She took another look. He had exited the top of the gulley.
‘Run,’ Stacey said. They had to catch his direction of travel.
They sprinted to the top of the alley. Stacey looked around. If he’d turned left or right he’d still be in view.
She started to cross the road. ‘He’s gone across the field. If we stay too far behind we’ll lose sight of ’im and there’s three exits off the park.’
‘Shit,’ Dawson said.
Stacey understood what he meant. They couldn’t maintain such a safe distance. Without the aid of any street lamps their target would soon disappear from view.
They hurried across the field until he was in view. They were no more than twenty feet behind when they slowed their pace to match Charlie Cook.
Dawson reached out and touched her arm.
‘Kev … what the?’
‘Stacey, hold my hand?’
Must she? she thought. Truthfully, she didn’t know where he’d been.
She took it and squeezed, hard, feeling the bones of his fingers grind together. To his credit he made no sound.
‘Where does that lead?’ he asked, as Cook headed towards the first exit from the field.
‘Houses and a school. Library is at the bottom of the road and a few shops on the other side.’
His figure walked into the glow of the street lamps. They immediately altered their speed. The view ahead was clear. There was only one right turn in the road.
They paused in the darkness of the field as he walked to the end of the road and turned right.
Again they ran the distance he’d covered.
This time Dawson looked around the corner.
‘He’s crossed over,’ he said, looking for guidance.
Stacey searched her memory. ‘There’s a pub, The Waggon and Horses, I think, an electrical shop and … oh, hang on …’
‘What?’ Dawson hissed.
‘The old school, Reddal Hill, it’s now a community centre.’
‘He’s moving out of sight,’ Dawson said.
They walked along the pavement but on the opposite side of the road.
Another fifty feet and Stacey could see the entrance to the old school. Cook was no more than ten feet away and he turned.
Stacey stopped moving. ‘Well at least now we know.’
Dawson continued forward. ‘What you stopping for?’
‘’Cos we know where he’s gone.’
He gave her his knowing smile. ‘Yeah, but we don’t know what for.’
Stacey got moving and caught up.
A minute later they turned into the grounds of the old school.
A noticeboard was mounted just inside.
There were A4 sheets of varying colour with an assortment of fonts and sizes.
‘Bloody hell, it reads like a holiday camp itinerary,’ Dawson observed.