by GS Rhodes
“What’s going on?” she asked, startled.
“Joe Warrington has been seen outside his house,” Kidd said, breathlessly. “Going to go and pick him up. Maybe we can put an end to this before dinner.”
“Fast work,” she said.
“And we had another call from Colin complaining about the vulture/cockroach monsters outside his house,” Kidd said. “Can someone go and check it out?”
“Happy to,” Zoe said.
“How was Mrs Warrington?”
Zoe shrugged. “Shaken,” she said simply. “But she’ll be alright. She wants this over with as much as the rest of us do, I think.”
Somehow Kidd doubted that. “We’ll be back soon.”
◆◆◆
Kidd drove like a maniac to the address Powell had given him. Campbell was practically giddy in the passenger seat, Kidd having to stop himself from telling him to sit the fuck still or he’d crash the car on purpose.
They pulled onto the Warrington’s street and slowed down a few clicks, the streetlamps on the road steadily clicking on, bathing the greying dusk with an orangey glow. There were a few people about, couples with dogs, older ladies and gentlemen wandering the streets, but Kidd didn’t see Warrington.
He’d remember the smug little shit’s face anywhere. It was burned onto his retinas until he managed to catch him. They made it to the Warrington’s house. There were a few lights on inside, a couple of shadows moving behind net curtains. Not enough to get confirmation of who was inside. There was no car here though, which meant Mrs Warrington hadn’t made it home yet. That might make this a little easier.
Kidd got out of the car, Campbell quickly following suit, and made his way to the front door. The porch light switched on, sending a harsh white flood of light across the two of them, and apparently waking up the yappiest dog known to man. It practically screeched at them from behind the door.
“Christ, a little rat dog,” Kidd grumbled. “What obsession do people have with tiny dogs that bark like that?”
He knocked on the door, his fist landing heavily and rattling the panes of glass. A light switched on inside, illuminating someone coming towards the door.
A man opened it. Tall with dark hair that was cropped close to his head. His face was fixed in a snarl the second he laid eyes on them, no doubt recognising Campbell from earlier in the day.
“What now?” he crowed. “Haven’t you harassed my family enough? Isn’t this is getting a little ridiculous? I’ll report you, make a complaint. What’s your badge number?”
“Believe me when I say that won’t be necessary,” Kidd said, forcing a smile onto his face.
“Dad, what’s—?” Another person walked into the well-lit hallway and promptly froze, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Apparently, Kidd’s face wasn’t one that was easy to forget either.
“Go back inside,” Mr Warrington barked. “I’m handling this.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Kidd said before Joe could even so much as move. “You’re under arrest.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It wasn’t the smoothest arrest that Kidd had ever conducted. Mr Warrington wouldn’t stop yelling as they arrested Joe, who was frighteningly calm as they escorted him out to the car. Mr Warrington was insistent that Joe didn’t say a word until a lawyer was present, and once again, demanded both DI Kidd’s and DC Campbell’s badge numbers.
Joe didn’t say a word. He followed them out to the car, his face remaining completely calm, completely unfazed by everything that was going on. It set Kidd on edge. This was what it had been like when they’d arrested Albert. He’d been so calm, so put together, like he’d been expecting to get caught. Or that he thought he could talk his way out of it, even if he’d been caught red-handed.
Joe hadn’t been caught in the act. In fact, at this point, they had no concrete proof to tie him to the murder. But Joe didn’t know that. What else would they be arresting him for?
Now Kidd knew why Mrs Warrington had been so shaky, and what Zoe meant when she said Mr Warrington was an asshole. He was a Grade A dickhead. While his son was complying and doing as he was told, he wouldn’t stop yelling. It only meant there were people out in the street watching everything happen, making the whole situation all the more embarrassing for him and his son.
At least Mrs Warrington didn’t have to see it, Kidd thought.
They booked Joe in at the station and waited for his lawyer to arrive, Kidd preparing his questions, gathering the photos they had, any evidence that they could use. He was expecting a no comment interview, but he at least needed to try.
He wondered how Zoe was getting on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
DS Zoe Sanchez left pretty soon after DI Kidd. DC Ravel had offered to come along with her but she was fairly sure it wasn’t going to take all that long, and politely declined. If DI Kidd came back with Joe Warrington, he was going to need all the help he could get.
She got in her car and drove to Colin Hansen’s house, getting caught in a little traffic on the way, but still making pretty good time. What surprised her, was when she pulled up outside the house to find that nobody was there.
She checked the address on her phone to make sure it was the right one and, sure enough, it was Colin’s address alright, but any harassers that had been there earlier had since vanished. In fact, the entire house was dark. Not even the porch light was on.
Zoe took her phone out of her pocket and dialled Colin’s number. It rang for a while before it clicked off, asking her to leave a message.
“Hiya, Colin, it’s DS Sanchez, we spoke yesterday,” she said. “I was just responding to the call that you made earlier on today and again this afternoon about the press outside your house. I’m here now, if you wanted to speak to me at all. I’d love to make sure everything is okay before I head back to the station.”
She hung up the phone, gave it a second and dialled one more time. Nothing. Just his voicemail again.
Zoe turned to look at the house again. There was a strange eeriness about it being completely pitch black while the rest of the street was lit up, either by porch lights or by the streetlamps.
She wondered if maybe the crowds had dispersed and he’d managed to get out for a little bit with his dog. He’d mentioned the dog not being able to be anywhere but the garden because he couldn’t take him for walks. Maybe he’d taken him for a long walk.
But then, why the phone call? she thought.
Zoe got out of the car, pocketing her phone as she walked towards the door. The porch light clicked on illuminating the driveway, just as it had a night ago when she and Kidd had been here. She turned back to her car, half expecting the paparazzi to appear like they’d been lurking in the shadows waiting for him to come home or something. But there was nobody here. Maybe they knew something she didn’t.
She reached up and knocked, only to find it open at her touch.
Odd, she thought.
She pushed it with the palm of her hand. The house was dark, quiet, the only sound the creak of the door as it steadily swung open.
Zoe inadvertently held her breath. Like if she made even the slightest sound, she would disturb whoever was in the house.
She looked back to see that Colin’s car was there, still waiting on the driveway. Had he left the house and accidentally left the door unlocked? It was an easy mistake to make.
Zoe took out her phone and dialled DI Kidd’s number. He didn’t pick up. He was likely in an interview with Joe Warrington by now, not wanting to be disturbed. She stepped outside onto the drive to make the call, looking up at the darkened house, unable to keep the chill out of her bones.
“I’ve just got to Colin’s property,” she started, keeping her voice low. “It’s Zoe, by the way. There’s nobody here, no press, no nothing. They seem to have vanished into thin air. But, since I was here, I thought I’d check on Colin anyway, see if he was okay, but the house is empty and the door is unlatched. I’m calling you because I’m going in t
o check it out.”
She kept the phone to her ear and stepped inside. She could hear her breathing distorting against the phone, coming back at her warm. Her footsteps seemed loud, like she was stomping her way into the hallway even though she was trying to keep her steps careful.
DS Sanchez cleared her throat.
“Hello? Colin?”
Nothing.
“This is DS Sanchez. Your front door was open.”
She turned the corner into the living room and fumbled along the wall to find the light switch. She switched it on. And dropped her phone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Thankfully, Joe’s lawyer didn’t waste too much time getting there. Kidd had a sneaking suspicion that Mr Warrington would have had him on speed dial, prepared for just such an occasion. He seemed like the type.
Alyssa Johnstone wasn’t someone that Kidd had encountered before, a younger woman with dead-straight black hair, the smoothest-looking brown skin he’d ever seen, and a soft expression. Though, Kidd refused to be fooled by such things, considering most lawyers liked to at least start with pleasantries before advising their client to give you shit during the interview.
They were in Interview Room One, the largest of the interview rooms at the station. The walls were painted dark, CCTV in every corner, the tape recorder primed and ready to hear whatever Joe had to say.
DI Kidd guided Joe and his lawyer into the room, taking the seat across from them with DC Campbell at his side. He, again, seemed jittery, excited at the prospect of them getting their man. Kidd remained sceptical.
Kidd pressed the record button and proceeded with the formalities.
“My name is DI Kidd, this is DC Campbell who will be taking a few notes and presenting you with the evidence we’ve acquired so far,” Kidd stated, turning his gaze to Joe who was still looking remarkably calm. No matter how much Kidd looked at him, he just couldn’t read him, couldn’t figure out what was going on inside his head. Just like Albert, he thought.
Alyssa cleared her throat, taking a pair of glasses out of a shiny black case and perching them on the end of her nose. “Thank you,” she said. “My name is Alyssa Johnstone.”
Kidd turned to Joe again. “Mr Warrington, is also present, would you mind stating your name for the tape?”
Joe cleared his throat and leant forward a little. “My name is Tony Warrington.”
Kidd froze. “Excuse me?”
“Oh,” Joe, or Tony, sat up straight. “Sorry, did you want my full name?”
Kidd’s mouth hung open, catching flies.
Tony, or Joe, cleared his throat. “My name is Anthony Philip Warrington,” he said, his voice actually shaking a little this time. “Is that okay?”
Kidd still stared dumbstruck. “Yes, fine, absolutely,” Kidd said, sitting back in his chair. “You’re not Joe.”
“What?”
“You’re not Joe Warrington,” Kidd said, firmly.
Tony scoffed. “No, of course not,” he said. “Joe’s my twin. Younger by a whole ten minutes though. I’d show you my ID but they took it off me at the front desk. It’s in my wallet. You can go and look if you like, I don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa chimed in. “What is going on here? Is my client not under arrest?”
“Sir, your phone is ringing,” DC Campbell whispered next to him.
Kidd pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing it was Zoe and flicked it to silent. He tried to think back to what she’d said about the Warringtons before, trying to remember.
She mentioned a brother, Kidd thought. She never said he was a bloody identical twin. Shit.
Kidd took a breath and sat forward in his chair. “It does appear that there has been some sort of mix up,” Kidd said, feeling heat pricking his cheeks, not wanting to acknowledge quite how bad this looked for him, for the force. Weaver would have his head on a pike outside his office for this.
“Why didn’t you wait for a positive ID? It’s my head that’s going to be in the smasher for this one! Are you out of your bleeding mind?” he would rage. Kidd could already feel the spittle peppering his face when he got the hairdryer treatment.
He’d rushed into it and he knew it.
“If my client isn’t under arrest then I assume he is free to go?” Alyssa’s eyes were drilling into him with the intensity of a thousand suns. She wasn’t impressed at being called out for no good reason at what was likely the end of her day.
“Yes, technically he is,” Kidd said somewhat sheepishly. Tony moved to leave but Kidd held out a hand. “However, we would love to ask you a few questions about your brother, if that’s okay?”
Alyssa sighed. “I can stay if you want me to,” she said to Tony. “I’m charging your father either way.”
Tony smiled at her sweetly. It was in that moment that Kidd saw the difference between the two brothers. While Joe had been surly and somewhat aggressive with him on the two occasions they’d met, here was Tony being kind.
“You can go if you like,” Tony said. “I’m happy to talk to them about Joe.”
Alyssa smiled, sighed, then stood up. “I’d love to say it’s been a pleasure, but that wouldn’t be true,” she said with a smirk. “See you again.”
“DC Campbell, would you mind showing Ms Johnstone out?”
“Absolutely,” Campbell replied, jumping up and hurrying to the door to show her the way. This left Kidd alone with Warrington, something he definitely preferred because he didn’t exactly want Campbell to see him apologising or admitting fault.
Kidd stopped the recording and leant back in his chair.
“I’m very sorry about all this, Tony,” he said.
“It’s not a bother.” Tony shrugged, following suit and leaning back in his seat.
“Well, getting arrested and brought into a police station is hardly how anybody would want to spend their evening, I imagine,” Kidd said, laughing a little, trying to ease the tension. “You both look so alike and, well, we’re trying to bring your brother in for a pretty serious crime. I saw someone who looked like him, not knowing that he had a twin, and jumped at the chance to… well… to wrap this case up. I’m sure you understand.”
Tony nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But what do you want to know about Joe? How much trouble is he in?”
Kidd wasn’t entirely sure how to approach this. The thing about having a sibling was that you wanted to protect them from things. Especially when they were younger, even if it was just ten minutes. If he was in a situation like this with Liz, what would he do? How would he react to being questioned? How much would he be willing to give away if he knew that it might end up getting her in trouble?
He couldn’t be sure.
“We have reason to believe that Joe could be caught up in a murder case,” DI Kidd said simply. “The victim was close to Joe, and we want to find him to… rule him out, if we can.”
“But you’re not going to be ruling him out, are you?” Tony replied. “You think he did it.”
DI Kidd knew that was where the evidence was pointing at this point. Everything about what had happened so far told him that it was Joe Warrington, it was the only logical explanation. But then there was the feeling in his gut that told him otherwise. But he couldn’t show that to Tony, he needed to appear certain.
“I think he might have, yes,” DI Kidd said. “And that’s why we’re trying to find him as quickly as possible.” He took a moment, knowing he was laying it on a little thick here, but hoping it would get through to Tony. “Before he has a chance to hurt anyone else.”
Tony’s face dropped. He’d spent so much time with his father talking badly about the police, maybe laying it on thick was what he needed to get through to him.
“I need you to tell me as much as you can about Joe,” Kidd said. “I get the impression that you knew him better than anybody else, even your mum and dad, am I right?”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe it’s a twin thing, I don’t know,” he said. “But we
always had a weird connection that mum never really got. But she always told me to look out for him.”
“And you telling us whatever you can, is doing just that,” Kidd pressed. “Please, Tony, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to. And you know it’s the right thing, deep down, you must know that.”
Tony took a breath and brought his eyes up to meet Kidd’s. He really did look remarkably like Joe. If you put the two of them next to one another, there was no way that Kidd would have been able to tell them apart. They must’ve gotten up to an awful lot of mischief when they were younger, must’ve driven their poor mum mad.
“Joe is studying film and journalism,” Tony said. “He’s always liked cameras, just like me, and we always used to make little films together when we were at home. Nothing proper, like just stupid stuff, things we thought would get us famous on YouTube but mostly got us ignored and a little bit picked on at school.” He laughed as he remembered something, the smallest glimmer in his eyes. He shook it from his head. “I used to film for him all the time,” Tony added.
“For what?”
“For his social media stuff,” Tony said. “I stopped wanting to be on the camera so much, enjoyed being behind it a lot more. He really got into documentary film making, what he called proper, hard-hitting stuff, and I started making more artsy films. We drifted in that way, I suppose, but I was always there to lend a hand if he needed my help with anything. It can be hard being a one-man band.”
“So what changed?” Kidd asked.
“What’s that?”
“You said you drifted,” Kidd said. “How much did you drift? What pushed that rift between you, not just the film making?”
“No,” Tony said, shaking his head. “The thing about Joe is that he was always a bit obsessive. He would grab onto something he really liked and just hammer it and hammer it and hammer it until he either hated it or he’d perfected it.”
