‘I can pay for the damage,’ Zak told the Asian guy. ‘Or work it off?’ The man swore at Zak in English and some other language and motioned for the police to take him. They arrested him and Zak kicked off, refusing to go anywhere without Bess, swearing that there was no one who could look after her. ‘You make me leave her and I’ll get the RSPCA on yer.’
‘She’ll go in the pound,’ one of the coppers said.
‘Fine, I can’t leave her here, can’t abandon her.’
They walked him round to fetch her and let her into the car with him. Zak told her she was a good girl and she licked his face. ‘It’ll be right,’ he told her. But he knew he was fucked.
They booked him in and put him in a cell and then took him to an interview room. He started trying to tell them that it was a prank gone wrong, that he just wanted a bed for the night, wasn’t after robbing ’owt.
‘The store has internal CCTV,’ one of the coppers said. ‘Light activated.’
The other one winked. ‘You’ve been framed.’
Zak imagined it: his plundering the shelves, the action with the lump hammer on the padlock.
He laid his head on his arms.
‘Sit up, son,’ the copper said. ‘I am charging you with breaking and entering, going with intent to burgle, attempted theft and criminal damage.’ Then he read the caution. He asked Zak if he had anything to say.
‘Will they put us inside?’ His throat was aching and his knee jigging all on its own.
‘Oh yes. You’ll not walk away from this one.’
He’d lose Bess. They’d put him in prison with all the nutters and the hard men. Lock him in. Zak couldn’t stop shaking.
‘Is there anything else?’ the copper said.
‘Yeah.’ Zak wiped at his nose, pressed his hands between his knees, rocking forward. ‘I want witness protection. I seen who shot Danny Macateer.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mike
Vicky didn’t see the letter; Mike watched out for it after Joe Kitson’s call. The post didn’t come till lunchtime most days and by then Vicky was usually out doing The Perms. He’d been able to hide it and didn’t let on when she got in from work.
He needn’t have bothered. Granada Reports had it as the top story. Police have charged two men on suspicion of the murder of Danny Macateer in June last year. Vicky turned to him. ‘Did you know about this?’
Mike shook his head slowly.
‘You’ll have to tell them now, Mike, that you’re stepping down, you won’t give evidence.’
Stepping down, Mike thought, sounded weird, like he had some smart executive position that he was giving up to ‘spend more time with his family’. What she should have said was running away. ‘I will,’ he said.
‘You’d better. Now it’s definitely on, we’re sitting ducks.’ She was paranoid again, her eyes like marbles, her face tight. ‘Ring them.’
‘They won’t be there, now,’ Mike told her, ‘I’ll go in the morning.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
She was still looking at him sideways, her antennae on full alert.
‘I promise,’ he repeated, louder than he meant to.
‘No need to yell at me,’ she told him.
Joe Kitson kept him waiting fifteen minutes which Mike reckoned was fair enough given he’d turned up on spec and the man must be busy.
Joe came out and shook his hand then took him through and along a corridor past various offices and up a flight of stairs. A different place from last time. There were posters and noticeboards along the way: everything from car crime and property marking to first aid training and Drink Aware.
Joe led Mike into a small room. ‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘I’m fine,’ Mike told him.
‘Wise choice,’ Joe smiled. ‘How can I help?’
Mike had practised what he’d say, tried it out in his mind this way and that but not found any way to make it sound right.
‘I can’t be a witness,’ he said bluntly. ‘I can’t do it.’
Joe Kitson just gave a half-nod. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘It’s the wife,’ Mike explained. ‘First off, someone broke in, nicked the telly. Then she had this car crash, she reckons they were trying to run her off the road.’
Joe’s face sharpened. ‘When was this?’
Mike told him.
‘You didn’t report it?’
‘She wouldn’t, and she wouldn’t let me. She thought we were being warned off. I told her she was crazy. That until someone was actually charged there was no risk.’
‘And now someone has been charged…’ Joe supplied.
‘She’s freaking out.’
Joe Kitson gave a soft breath out, looked down at the table between them.
Mike felt crappy. A henpecked husband with no guts. ‘I promised her,’ he added. ‘If it was down to me-’ Mike broke off.
‘These incidents – the burglary, the crash – I’d like you to give me all the details.’
Mike waited for him to explain.
‘I’m ninety-nine per cent certain there’s no link between this case and those incidents but I’d like to nail it one hundred per cent.’
Mike felt a bubble of hope. ‘You could do that?’
‘Building evidence, particularly in a murder inquiry, means looking at people’s actions after the actual crime is committed as well as investigating the crime itself. Keeping tabs on potential suspects if you like.’
‘You’ve been watching them.’ Mike wanted to be sure he understood properly.
Joe nodded. ‘So, take the car crash: with the place and time, your wife’s registration, it may be possible to identify the registration of the other vehicle. Trace the owner. Set your minds at rest.’
Mike felt relieved, until he imagined trying to get Vicky on board. ‘She won’t listen to reason.’
‘But if she had proof? Knew for certain there was no connection?’
Mike allowed maybe she’d rethink. ‘I can tell you where and when and that.’
Joe nodded. ‘Good. Now as for the future – the trial. Like I said on the phone, there’ll be special measures in place to ensure you can’t be intimidated while giving your evidence.’
‘And before the trial?’
Joe held up his thumb, counted it off. ‘You’re not known to the defendants, correct?’
Mike nodded.
Joe stretched out his first finger, tapped it. ‘You work in the area where the crime was carried out?’
Mike shook his head. He didn’t work anywhere, any more.
Joe added a second finger to his tally of advantages. ‘You live in the area?’
‘No,’ Mike said.
Joe lowered his hand. ‘The defendants will not be given your name or any details that could help them identify you.’
‘What about their lawyers? They’ll see my statement and that?’
‘Yes, but they won’t be passing it on to their clients. And remember these guys have entered not guilty pleas. Interfering with independent witnesses would sabotage their position.’
Mike still wasn’t sure, and if he wasn’t, Vicky wouldn’t be. ‘What d’you mean, independent?’
‘You don’t know any of the people involved, you have no possible axe to grind, no ulterior motive, nothing to gain. It’s the strongest form of testimony we can get. Other witnesses with a prior relationship could have all sorts of dubious reasons for pointing the finger and the defence will milk that for all it is worth. Rip ’em apart. Have to, that’s the way it works. But you, you’re the bedrock.’ Joe sat back, studied Mike. ‘Money’s always an issue but if your wife needs further reassurance we are sometimes able to relocate people in temporary accommodation for the duration.’
Mike thought of Kieran, the nightmare that would be. ‘We couldn’t,’ he said. ‘My lad, he relies on things staying exactly the same.’