Savage Moon

Jon drew the fingers of one hand along his jaw and imagined how exhausted he must look. 'We've got a kid.'

His brother blinked. 'No shit! You're a dad?'

Jon nodded. 'Holly. She's three months old.' He saw the half smile appear on his brother's face. So family did matter, at least a little. Jon seized the opportunity. 'Will you call Mum?'

'OK, I'll try. Holly? That's cool. What does she look like?' Jon smiled back. 'Babies all look the same to me. Most people reckon she's got Alice's eyes in a Spicer face.' Dave laughed. 'Poor bitch.'

They remained silent for a few seconds. Jon glanced again at the empty building. 'Did you know the guy who died, Danny Gordon?'

Dave crossed his arms. 'Only to chat to. He was pretty fucked up.'

'Did he ever show up with a black guy?'

'Jammer? Yeah, they were good mates.'

'Who is this Jammer? What's his real name?'

'Just know him as Jammer. He'd look out for Danny when he got aggressive. Saved him from getting a kicking.'

'Why'd he get aggressive?'

'Who knows. The guy was a head case. He'd flip out sometimes, especially after drinking.'

'When did you last see Jammer?'

'A few days back. Maybe five. He was looking for Danny.'

'Where was Danny?'

'I don't know. No one had seen him for a bit. How long has he been dead up in that flat?'

'Around five days.'

'That explains why no one had seen him.'

'Where'll you go now?'

'There are other places near here.'

'So you'll call Mum?'

His brother put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. 'Can you lend me some cash?'

I understand, thought Jon. You'll call Mum if I pay you to. He felt dismay at how cheaply his younger brother must value their family. Jon reached for his wallet, glancing at his brother's sleeves as if he could see through them for signs of drug use. How far was Dave from Danny Gordon's fate? He had a glimpse of being called out to some boarded-up house to identify his brother's body, lying in a back room surrounded by a puddle of its own fluids. Reluctantly he removed two twenties and held them out. Dave's hands stayed in his pockets, eyes still on the wallet. Jon slid out the final twenty and extended the notes at waist level as if paying for something illicit.

The money disappeared into Dave's pocket. 'Cheers bro.'

A minute ago it was pal, Jon thought bitterly. Wallet still out, he removed a business card and held it up. 'My mobile's on this. Keep in touch, yeah?'

Dave winked in reply, turned on his heel and slunk off towards the gap in the hoardings. The uniformed officer blocked his exit and Jon was forced to call over that it was OK. Dave held up a thumb and then was gone.

Jon took a last drag of his cigarette and let it fall from his fingers. As he crushed it angrily underfoot he heard Rick's voice.

'Who was that scuzz-bucket? A snitch or something?'

'Yeah, something like that,' Jon sighed.

'Well, no one in there has seen Jammer for a few days. We'd better head back to Longsight I suppose. Summerby's called a briefing for five-thirty.'

They were crossing the road when Rick's mobile rang. 'DS Saville. Ah, excellent. Really? OK, thanks for letting me know. See you back at the station.' He rung off and looked at Jon.

'That was Joe Adlon. The word at the bottom of the suicide note means, “remember”.'

'Remember?' Jon mused. 'Why write the word remember?'

'You remember something that's been done in the past. Peterson's abuse of Danny Gordon?'

'But if someone else wrote that, what were they saying? I remember what he did to you. Some sort of a tribute or acknowledgement?'

'Or it's an instruction. To whoever finds the body.'

Jon pulled his car keys out. 'Summerby will need to get Dr Heath's opinion on this. Too psychological for me. Anyway, did he say what language it was in?'

'Yeah. A tribal dialect from Kenya. Kikuyu.'

'Kenya?' Jon said, immediately conducting a mental check of any previous time the country had cropped up in the investiga- tion. His mind halted at an image of Jeremy Hobson describing how he'd seen a leopard dragging the carcass of a young giraffe up a tree in Kenya. He removed the panther hairs from his pocket. 'We need to get a DNA test done, and fast.'

Thirty

As they walked into the incident room Jon scanned the faces inside. From the way most officers avoided his eyes, he knew news had leaked out that Summerby had taken charge of the investigation. Keeping his chin up, he went over to his desk and picked up the phone. 'Hi, Nikki, it's Jon here.'

'What's making me think you need a really urgent favour?'

'You've got me sussed. That DNA test kit you mentioned. Will it work on a few more hairs I've got?'

'Only if there are follicles attached. I haven't got the facilities to test off keratin alone.'

Jon examined the bag. 'There are. On most of them anyway.'

'I'll try then. Send them over to my office.'

'Don't you want to know what it's about?'

'Jon, I'm sitting outside a courtroom and they're calling me in at any moment to give evidence. Just send the things over and I can ring you back. It'll be early evening though.'

'Cheers Nikki, they're on their way.'

He checked his message inbox yet again. Still nothing from Alice. This was getting ridiculous. He tried her number again. Bastard answerphone. 'Ali, it's me at three twenty-five. Call me when you pick this up, I don't know where you are.' He pressed red, then immediately called home. When the phone was answered it was Alice's voice that came down the line.

'Alice!' He sat back. 'Thank God for that. Where've you been?'

'The library.'

'All day?'

'Yes, I've just walked in.'

'I've been trying to call you on your mobile… ' He stopped, realising why it had been turned off.

'Oh, I must have forgotten to turn it back on when I came out. You've been leaving messages?'

She sounds really upbeat, Jon thought, finding her shift in mood confusing. 'A couple. I didn't know where you were.'

'But I couldn't have it switched on in there.'

'I realise. What were you doing anyway?'

'Researching the Iraqi civilian death count.' Oh no.

'There was an article I needed in a back issue of the New Statesman. Honestly, the whole thing is… scandal isn't strong enough. It's an-'

'What did you do with Holly?'

'What?'

'Holly. Where has she been all day?'

'With me of course. I took everything I needed down to the basement cafe´. No one minded me breast feeding down there.' She dropped her voice to a whisper. 'You realise your mum's here? She's fussing around in the kitchen.'

'I know. I asked her. Alice, I didn't know where the hell you were. I was really worried, to be honest. You just disappeared.'

'Oh, so you sent her round?' Irritation had crept into her voice.

'Not to check up,' Jon protested. 'Just see if you were OK. Anything could have happened. You might have slipped in the shower.'

'But you couldn't find the time to check yourself?'

'Not this morning. There was another body found-'

'You're still on that case.'

'In a supporting role, yes.' Silence.

'Ali, I couldn't just pack it in completely. Listen, I'll be back soon. I'm waiting for the results of a couple of tests.'

'Fine. That's fine. Is your mother staying here until then or am I safe enough to be left alone with my baby?'

'She's only trying to help.'

'Holly's ready for a feed. I'd better go.'

'Can you put Mum on then?'

He heard Alice walking away. 'Mary, Jon wants a word.' Her voice grew fainter with each step.

A few seconds later his mum came on the line. 'Hello, Jon.' Do I mention seeing Dave? Or would it be better if he rings. Unsure of the best option, he decided not to mention it.