Blood Guilt (14 page)

Harlan answered with
silence.

Jim’s face ruckled in
dismay. “For fuck’s sake, have you lost your mind? Just what the hell were you trying
to achieve? We questioned that nonce, Jones, for two days and got zip from him.
What made you think you’d do any better?”

Because I can do things
the police can’t
, thought Harlan, but he remained
silent.

“Jones is in hospital,
you know.”

Harlan’s heart gave a
quick thump. It flashed through his mind that Jones might’ve suffered a heart
attack or something, but he dismissed the thought – if that’d been the case,
Garrett would’ve used it to try and get him to come clean. “Nothing serious, I
hope.”

Jim shook his head. “A
dislocated elbow.” He looked at Harlan as if trying to recollect a face he
hadn’t seen for a long time. “What’s going on with you Harlan? Intimidation was
never your bag.”

“Who says it is now?
Who says I had anything to do with what happened to Jones? Maybe I was at the
flat all night, like I told Garrett.”

“And maybe I was having
dinner on the moon.” Jim sighed. “How did this happen? I mean, what made you do
this? Just the other day Eve phoned to tell me how well you were doing. She
sounded happier than she had in a very long time. She said the two of you were
really making a go of things.”

A familiar bite of
guilt gnawed at Harlan. “Yeah well she was wrong. I was wrong too. I allowed
myself to think I could be with her. But I can’t be. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

“That’s just crazy
talk, Harlan,” snapped Jim, a sudden anger flaring in his eyes. “Do you want to
know something? That woman’s worth ten of you. I’d give up my job in a second
for someone like her. And you’re gonna let the chance to be with her go by for
what? So you can go on some insane hunt for a boy who’s already dead.”

“You don’t know that.
You don’t know for sure that he’s dead.”

“Yes I do. And you do
too, only you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t
really matter if he’s alive or dead – at least, not in the way you mean. This
isn’t just about Ethan. It’s about the people who love him. One way or another,
they need closure.”

“And what makes you
think you can give it to them? Come on, Harlan, you know how it is with cases
like this. We might get a lucky break and catch the fucker who took Ethan or–”

“Or you might never
catch him,” interrupted Harlan. “Yeah, Jim, I know how it is.”

“But that doesn’t make
any difference to you, does it? You’re gonna keep at this until you’re in jail
or dead, aren’t you?”

Again, Harlan said
nothing, but the fixed set of his jaw and the way he stared unflinchingly at
Jim told his ex-partner all he needed to know. Jim heaved another sigh. “Okay,
Harlan. You win. Look, I’ll tell you what, if you keep me in your loop, I’ll do
the same.”

“Why would you do
that?”

“Because if I can’t
talk you out of this, I might as well use you. Besides, I’d rather you come to
me than pull another stunt like last night.”

“What about Garrett?”

Jim smiled. “You know
what Garrett can go do.”

A thin smile played on
Harlan’s lips too. “Okay. Maybe between us we can solve this thing.”

“Maybe.” Jim sounded
unconvinced. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the police
station. “Listen, we’ll be seen if we talk here much longer. Let’s go somewhere
where we can pick each other’s brains.”

Harlan was about to say
okay, but his thoughts returned with a falling sensation to Susan Reed. “Some
other time. There’s something I need to do.”

“Just do me a favour
and try to keep a low profile for a few days. Garrett’s spitting blood about
what happened to Jones. He knows he fucked up releasing Jones’s name to the
press, and he’s desperate to make an example of someone.”

“I’ll try.” Harlan held
his hand out, and when Jim took it, he said, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jim
paused a breath, before adding meaningfully, “partner.”

Harlan smiled again at
the word. “I’ll see you.” His hunger forgotten for now, he made his way along
the street until he saw a phone-box. He called Susan Reed. She picked up
instantly, as if she’d been waiting by the phone.

“I heard what happened.
Mr Garrett sent a couple of his detectives to see me. Don’t worry, I stayed
right here all night with Kane, just like you told me to.” Susan’s tone was breathless
with eager inquiry. “What did you find out?”

There wasn’t much to
tell, but what there was Harlan was unwilling to say over the phone. “Let’s
meet and I’ll tell you.”

“Okay. Where?”

Harlan thought for a
moment, then said, “Tom’s Café.” It was a grotty little backstreet greasy-spoon
where he used to meet his informants. He’d used the place because of its
privacy and because its name was a reminder of something that was innocent and
worth preserving, worth fighting for. He hadn’t been there since Tom’s death.
“Do you know it?”

“No.”

Harlan described where
the café was. “Do you think you can find it?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find
it.”

“I’ll see you there in
half-an-hour or so.”

Harlan headed to the café.
He watched carefully for any sign that he was being followed, but there was
none. Just in case, he went into a busy indoor market, weaved his way quickly
between the stalls and dodged out of a side entrance. When he got to the café,
he ordered a fried breakfast and wolfed it down while he waited for Susan. As
usual, the place was empty except for a few shady-looking characters and a
craggy-faced old guy behind the counter who’d been a permanent fixture as long
as Harlan had been going there.

Harlan had just
finished eating when Susan turned up. To his dismay, she wasn’t alone. Her
boyfriend, Neil Price, was with her. Harlan took in Price’s cheap, baggy
clothing and even cheaper haircut as, holding hands like teenage lovers, the
two of them sat down opposite him. Up close, Price looked both younger and
older than he had done on the television. The watery blue of his eyes, which
blinked nervously at Harlan from behind thick lenses, was lined with red. And
the surrounding flesh was tired, grey and marked with crow’s feet – no doubt,
the result of years spent working nights. But the awkward way he held himself
and the ratty fuzz of hair on his chin and upper lip gave Harlan the impression
of an adolescent desperately trying to be an adult.

Frowning hard, Harlan
shifted his attention to Susan. “I told you to come alone.”

“You can trust Neil,”
she assured him.

“I don’t give a toss if
I can trust him. He shouldn’t be here. I thought you understood, this was
supposed to be between just you and me.” Harlan released an angry breath. “Give
me one reason why I shouldn’t get up and walk out of here right now.”

Susan’s eyes swelled
with alarm. “Please don’t.”

“I’m here because Susan
needs support,” said Neil, his voice reedy and tremulous. He tried to hold
Harlan’s gaze, but his eyes dropped to the table after a few seconds.

Harlan scrutinised
Neil, wondering what Susan saw in him. He didn’t seem her type at all – his
nervy demeanour and thin, gangly frame were about as dissimilar from her
husband as could be. Maybe that was it, he reflected. Maybe, consciously or
unconsciously, she’d gone for someone who wouldn’t stir up bad memories every
time she looked at him. Harlan sighed, his anger fading a little in the face of
Neil’s timidity. “Wait outside.”

“There’s no point.”
Neil worked up enough courage to look briefly at Harlan. “We don’t keep any
secrets from each other.”

Harlan shifted his gaze
to Susan. “Either he leaves or I do.”

“Do as he says, Neil,”
she said.

A look of hurt flashed
over Neil’s face, but he removed his hand from hers and obediently headed for
the door. Harlan let out a long breath through his nose. “I hope you’re right
about him.”

“I am.” Susan bent
forward, her voice dropping. “So what happened with Jones?” Her mouth twisted
as if the name had a bitter taste that made her want to spit.

“We’ll get to that in a
moment. First I want ask you a couple of question about Neil.”

Susan made an impatient
gesture. “The coppers have already asked me a thousand questions about him, and
I’ll tell you what I told them – Neil hasn’t got anything to do with any of
this.”

“You realise he fits
the classic profile of a potential abductor – white male, early thirties,
unskilled–”

“Yeah, I know,” cut in
Susan. “But I also know that he’s the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. He
couldn’t hurt a fly.” Susan glanced at Neil, who was leant with his back to the
window, hands thrust in his pockets, staring at the pavement. “I mean, for
Christ’s sake, look at him. He jumps at his own shadow. Do you really think he
could’ve taken my Ethan?”

Harlan had to admit
that Price looked about as harmless as they come, but he also knew that
appearances could deceive, that the sheep could turn out to be a wolf. “Where
did you meet him?”

Susan heaved a sigh.
“At the hospital a couple of years ago. Ethan got ill – some kind of blood
infection. He was in hospital for a week. Neil was a porter on his ward. He
looked out for Ethan. He looked out for all the kids. Brought them comics from
his collection. Anyway, one day we got talking and, well, things just kind of
happened.” A note of some old guilt entered Susan’s voice. “Not that I was
looking for a relationship, or anything. Neil’s the first man I’ve been with
since…since…” She trailed off.

“Where does he live?”
Harlan asked quickly, as reluctant to hear the name on Susan’s tongue as she
was to say it.

“With his parents over
on Manor Lane.”

“What number?”

Susan told him, adding,
“He’s saving to buy a place of his own.”

Harlan wasn’t in the least
surprised to learn that Price still lived with his parents. It was written all
over his thirty-year-old teenager’s face. “So he’s got money of his own.”

“Well he’s not with me
for my money, is he?” There was a sharp, ironic edge to Susan’s voice.

“What I mean is, does
he live off his parents?”

“More like the other
way around. His dad’s an unemployed brickie and his mum’s a dinner lady at
Ethan’s school.”

Harlan’s eyebrows
lifted at this. It was a seemingly small thing, but as the cliché went, the Devil
was often in the details. “What are his parents’ names?”

“George and Sandra.”

“Did Sandra know Ethan
before you and Neil got together?”

“She knew him to look
at, if not to talk to.” Susan blew out her breath in frustration. “Look, Neil’s
got an alibi, right. He was working the night Ethan was taken. On top of which,
the sicko that took my baby boy is dark haired and about your height and build.
If you hadn’t noticed, Neil’s over six foot, blond and weighs about nine stone
soaking wet.”

“Maybe he’s got an
accomplice.”

“An accomplice? And
just who the hell might that be?” Susan’s raised voice barely drew a glance
from the other customers – Tom’s Café was a place where people knew to mind
their own business.

“Does he have any
friends?”

“Yeah. Brian and Dave
who he plays darts with down The Three Tuns.”

Harlan recognised the
pub’s name vaguely from his days on the beat. “Anyone else?”

“Some old schoolmates
he sees occasionally. No one important.”

“Everyone’s important
in a case like this. Everyone and every detail. That’s how to crack a case, by
finding that one tiny little piece of the puzzle.”

“I know, but I’ve been
through all this dozens of times before with Mr Garrett’s lot. And they’ve
spoken to Neil and everyone he knows, and found nothing to make them think he’s
got anything to do with this.”

“I understand, and I
know how hard this is for you. But if I’m going to have any chance of finding
Ethan, I need to build up a complete picture of your life. And the only way I
can do that is by asking the same questions the police asked.”

“I didn’t come to you
so you could ask those questions. I came–” Susan broke off, her eyes flitting
around the café. She continued more quietly, but no less vehemently, “I came to
you because you can do things the coppers can’t. So come on, out with it. What
happened? What did you find out?”

“A couple more
questions. Then we’ll get to Jones. How is Neil with Ethan and Kane?”

“He’s great. And before
you ask, no he’s never done or said anything inappropriate. He’s a good, decent
man. Do you hear? I know he comes over as kind of immature, but let me tell you
this, there’s a shit lot of so-called real men out there who’d run a mile from
a woman like me.”

“And there are also men
out there who specifically go for women with young children.”

“Enough!” Susan brought
her hands down on the table hard enough to make the crockery jump. “I won’t
hear another word against Neil. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I’d have
made it through these past few weeks. And I won’t answer another of your questions
until you tell me what fuckin’ well happened last night.”