‘Do you know where he is?’ I asked now. ‘I’m not out to get Joey, my job is to find any evidence that can support my client’s claim of innocence.’
‘He’s not violent, he’s never…he can’t stand the sight of blood.’
Oh, how many times was that phrase used after the event!
‘I’m not accusing him,’ I said, ‘but he was there that night, wasn’t he? He came home in a state, next thing, he’s run away. He’s frightened, he must know something. Please, Mrs Deason: where is he?’
‘He was…’ she was on the brink; she held her hands up cupped close together, a fragile gesture, as though to demonstrate something, but then she let them fall. ‘No,’ she blurted out, ‘no, you’re wrong.’
‘You’ve heard from Joey?’
‘I don’t know where he is,’ she insisted, but that wasn’t what I’d asked.
‘Mrs Deason, whatever Joey knows, whatever he did or didn’t do, we have to find out. There’s a boy his age sat in a cell awaiting trial for murder. He swears he’s innocent. Please, contact him. Ask him if he’ll see me, tell him about Luke Wallace. He can’t hide for ever. Just ask him, please?’
‘I swore that…I promised. I have to keep my promise. His life has been full of broken promises. I’m the only person he can trust. He didn’t do anything,’ she repeated emphatically.
‘I need to hear it from him,’ I said, ‘that’s all I want. He’s scared, he’s run away, he knows something. Please just ask him if he’ll talk to me. He can say no. His friend needs to know the truth. Please ask him.’
I waited, she gave the slightest nod of her head. I gave her my card.
‘I won’t betray him,’ she whispered. ‘He’s all I have left.’ And she looked beyond me to her memories.
Perhaps it was that simple. Joey D had stabbed Ahktar and fled. Luke had been found with his friend and assumed to be guilty. Not what the Siddiqs had seen though.
The police had the murder weapon too and Joey’s knife was safely at his grandma’s.
Whether he was guilty or not, Joey D was scared – so something he’d done or something he knew could get him into trouble. Serious trouble. I groaned with frustration.
I was relieved to find that neither of the other members of the lads’ band were in. Now the exams were over, Simon was camping with his brother in Wales and Josh had started a seasonal job at his uncle’s hotel in Southport. I was feeling overloaded with all the information I’d got that day.
At this stage in the enquiry I’d not much idea how important it would be to see them, and there were some other people I could interview first in the hope it would become clearer.
I collected Maddie and Tom in the car, as we needed to do a supermarket trip. After an initial squabble about who would push the trolley, they were reasonably co-operative. I smoothed the way by letting them each choose a packet of biscuits and by indulging in some chocolate mousse desserts.
I knew we needed just about everything so I stocked the trolley high. At the checkout I had a heart stopping moment when I couldn’t find my cheque card. It was in the other half of my purse. Saved.
Ray was glued to the football, England versus Germany at Wembley. But it was a beautiful evening so I settled myself with wine, an Elmore Leonard book that I hadn’t read and a plate of olives and crackers. Someone down the road was playing Oasis with the windows wide open, and from the opposite direction I could hear a power saw. As dusk fell the birds quietened and the whining tool stopped. Oasis was followed by M People. They were going to play at Old Trafford on Saturday, supporting Simply Red – a concert to raise money for the Emergency Fund. I laid my book down and watched the stars climb up. A dark shape flew above me, twisting as it went. A bat.
Ray came out. ‘We lost, penalty shoot-out.’ He seemed devastated.
I’d only a dim grasp of what that meant. ‘No goals?’ I ventured.
‘No. And the poor sod who missed will be blamed for losing the whole match. Southgate, he’s called. Yup, that’s how he’ll be remembered – as the bloke who lost the penalty shoot-out.’
‘Wine?’ I offered as consolation.
