Weep a While Longer

by Penny Freedman

  ‘You could say.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘My mother’s dead.’

  He ought, he knew, to find somewhere to pull over and stop but the tidal flow of traffic was bearing them on relentlessly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked quietly.

  He could feel that she was turned away from him. ‘I didn’t think you’d be particularly interested,’ she said.

  ‘And that’s because …?’

  ‘You’re not particularly interested in me, I suppose.’

  He gave that a moment before he said, ‘Well, I think I can persuade you that that’s not true but it will have to wait until I’m not battling London traffic, I’m afraid.’

  ‘OK.’ She was still turned away from him.

  ‘I am really sorry about your mother,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’ He saw her wipe away tears with the heel of her hand.

  They drove on in silence until she said, ‘So you need to find out whether Liam’s father is called William. Or Billy.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because then we can be sure that he’s the killer.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell me that Karen’s dog was called Billy?’

  ‘Yes. That’s the whole point. That was my mistake.’

  Risking killing both of them, he turned to look at her. ‘Do you think,’ he asked, ‘you could just tell me what you’re on about?’

  ‘All right.’ He felt her shift herself in her seat and lean back against the headrest. ‘It’s about what I saw on the afternoon Karen and Lara were killed. I always felt certain that the answer was there somewhere but I didn’t get it until Freda gave me a piece of information, and then there was Friar Francis.’

  He resisted asking what the hell she was talking about. Let her talk. She would get there eventually. The flat tiredness in her voice alarmed him. This was not Gina with a theory as he knew her, fizzing with the excitement of a challenge and the triumph of meeting it. He waited.

  ‘I told you the dog was called Billy because I heard Karen call out “Billy!” when the dog attacked the “woman”. Then Freda told me the dog was female. I hadn’t thought of that. Dogs are male by default, aren’t they? In all European languages, I think. Dogs are male, cats are female. There are those treats you can get – Good Boy treats for dogs and Good Girl treats for cats.’

  Scott took a couple of deep, calming breaths, Let her talk, he told himself. Just let her talk.

  ‘Anyway, when Freda told me the dog was female, I just thought, Oh Billie, then, as in Holiday, but that was sloppy thinking. And then last night I was watching the guy who plays Friar Francis in Much Ado. I was watching his feet and the way he walked and I remembered the man in the niqab and the shoes he was wearing. For some reason I’d forgotten them, but they were black trainers, quite distinctive, with a red flash, and I pictured it all again and I realised why the child – Lara – seemed to be behaving so oddly. She was laughing and pointing at the niqab woman’s feet, where the dog was snuffling around, and it seemed just rude, but then I remembered what she was saying: She’s getting him. She’s getting him. I thought that was because the “woman” was kicking out at the dog but Lara knew the person in the niqab was a man, didn’t she? She obviously must have known the dog was female so she’s getting him was the other way round. The dog was getting the man. Except then I thought about the way Freda uses get. She uses it to mean understand or know, and that’s where Odysseus comes in. Have you ever read The Odyssey?’

  ‘At school, I think. Bits of it.’

  ‘Do you remember his homecoming?’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’

  He was prepared to be patronized. He was glad to hear some animation in her voice, some of the old Gina back in action.

  ‘Well, when he returns to Ithaca after twenty years away, he disguises himself as a beggar so he can spy on everyone and find out what’s been going on in his absence. He’s really trying to catch his wife out, of course, poor bloody Penelope, who’s been sitting there weaving and unpicking her endless tapestry and staving off her slavering suitors – though, come to think of it, she must be at least fifty by this time, so you’d think the slavering might have stopped. Anyway, he disguises himself in a covering of beggar’s rags and no-one recognises him except his old dog, Argos, who is at death’s door but manages to wag his tail and lick his master’s hand before expiring.’

  ‘And Karen’s dog had previously belonged to Leanne – possibly to Leanne and her previous boyfriend – so the dog could have been greeting her old master, not attacking a woman in a niqab?’

  ‘Exactly. Dogs have limited means of expressing their feelings, when you come to think about it. They bark to intimidate but they bark in excitement too, and in greeting. And jumping up and pawing someone can be aggressive but it can be excitement or delight too. People who know dogs can tell the difference, I’m sure, but the rest of us are left guessing and, frankly, most dog behaviour seems to be on the aggressive side.’

  ‘So you’re saying the dog was greeting her old master, and Karen and Lara knew that she was?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And they recognised the niqab-wearer by his shoes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you have a theory about why the guy had decided to wear a niqab?’

  ‘Well that’s your department. You can’t expect me to do all your work for you.’

  He was silent. She would go on, he knew. Give her a verbal vacuum and she’d be in there, filling it.

  ‘For what it’s worth,’ she said, ‘I think he wanted to see his son and hear him sing, and for some reason he couldn’t do that in plain sight. Maybe there’s a restraining order on him not to approach Leanne or Liam. If she’s living with a policeman, all the more reason for him not to risk it.’

  ‘That would make sense of all the hardware on Leanne’s front door – if she was trying to keep him out. But you’re saying he killed Karen and Lara because they recognised him? He wouldn’t have done that just because they knew he’d broken a restraining order, would he?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, David,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t just sit there picking holes in my argument when I’m doing your work for you. Maybe he’s a wanted man. Wanted by you lot. He’s in hiding but he needs to see his boy. It wouldn’t be hard to find out, would it? On television they have all that stuff at the click of a mouse. Find out his name, why don’t you? If it’s Billy then admit that my theory has credibility at least.’

  He fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Call the station, will you? And then put it on hands free.’

  When he was put through to Steve Boxer, he said, ‘Steve. Leanne Thomas’s son – Liam – find out what you can about his father, will you? Name, background, record.’

  The silence at the other end went on for so long that he assumed that they had lost contact. Then Steve Boxer’s voice came through. ‘So you’ve heard, boss?’ he said.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘About Liam.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s been snatched. His mother thinks his dad’s got him.’

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Just over an hour ago.’

  ‘And when were you going to tell me?’

  ‘I-it’s-it’s been all go here, boss. Emergency stations. Road blocks, and all-cars alert for the guy’s van. DS Powell took over. We knew it would take you a while to get back from London – she talked to DC Shepherd – and—’

  And knew that I’d sent a police officer back by train and was driving my girlfriend home, Scott thought. She thinks I’ve lost the plot.

  ‘Where is DS Powell now?’ he asked.

  ‘They’ve got him, the guy, just ten minutes ago. Stopped at a road block on the A2 London-bound. He turned off into a field and got bogged down in mud – reckoned without the summer from hell. He’s in a camper van with the boy. DS Powell’s called for armed back-up.’

  Scott’s stomach plunged. �
��Don’t tell me—’ he said.

  ‘Yep. He’s got a gun, boss. And he’s making threats.’

  ‘Against the boy?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Where exactly on the A2 are they?’

  ‘I can give you the coordinates.’

  ‘OK. And Steve?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What’s his name, Liam’s father?’

  ‘Ah, that’s the surprising bit. Brody. Billy Brody. He’s Doug Brody’s brother.’

  20

  Saturday 28th July

  Common Ground

  I keep quiet while David digests the news from the front. Road blocks and armed response units are way out of my league. I don’t even – and this is pretty heroic – demand acknowledgement of my brilliance in sussing out who Billy is. I don’t belong in this bit of the operation, I know, and if I draw attention to myself it is just possible that he will turf me out and leave me to walk back to Marlbury.

  After a while, it’s he who starts talking. ‘This must have been what Karen was worried about,’ he says. ‘She must have known that Billy was back and was threatening to do something like this. But he’s Doug’s brother and Doug made her promise not to involve the police. And Leanne wouldn’t involve us because Darren wouldn’t want that. If Leanne was stopping Billy from seeing the boy, it’s likely he tried to see him at Karen’s house – she seems to have looked after Liam more than his mother did. He wouldn’t have known about her promise to Doug, but what I still don’t see is why he was prepared to kill to stop her from identifying him. You must be right about him being wanted for something, and something big.’

  He eyes his phone in its little cradle on the dashboard.

  ‘Do you want me to get Steve back?’ I ask.

  ‘No. Paula will know. I’ll wait and get the gen from her.’

  I restrain myself from saying something sarcastic about the indispensability of the multi-talented DS Powell and look out of the window. David is driving extremely fast now and it will be unwise to distract him.

  We see the open-air stage set for the drama that’s being played out from some distance away, lit as it is by the flashing lights of a ring of police cars. We slide off onto the slip road until we’re nearly level with the place where, presumably, the camper van plunged off the road, and where the churned mud shows that the police vehicles have followed suit. David stops the car.

  ‘You really can’t be here,’ he says, and I think for a moment that he is actually about to dump me. How far are we from Marlbury? Twenty miles? Tears threaten again. I am prepared to beg. ‘You’ll have to get in the back and lie down,’ he says. ‘I can’t have you visible.’’

  I don’t argue. I do as I’m told. I feel quite sick as the car bumps its way off the road but I say nothing. I efface myself. David stops the car and shortly afterwards Paula arrives and slips into the passenger seat.

  ‘Sorry I didn’t inform you right away, boss,’ she says, not sounding at all sorry, I think, ‘but things were moving so fast. We needed to get the road blocks out and—’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ David says, in a tone I recognise – polite but ominous. ‘Fill me in on this, quick as you can.’

  ’At 13.05 we got a call from Leanne Thomas. Liam had been playing with a friend in the front garden of a house just round the corner from Kendal Way. The friend ran in and told his mother that a man had taken Liam and driven him away in a big white van.’

  ‘We saw it. We parked behind it this morning, didn’t we?’

  ‘I think he’s probably been watching, waiting for his chance.’

  ‘Then he saw us take Darren away, reckoned he’d talk and decided to act.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘So we went into action: all-car alert, road blocks, back-up.’

  ‘Did you know he was armed at this point?’

  ‘Not right away but Leanne talked. Couldn’t stop her, just blabbed the whole thing. I’d got nothing out of Darren, by the way, but Leanne has dumped him right in it. Funny, I thought she didn’t give a shit about Liam but she was distraught – in pieces.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘It was Billy Brody who did the petrol station job that Doug’s doing time for. The visual on the CCTV, the partial DNA match – that was Billy. He knew he’d blown it with the CCTV so he did a runner right away, to Spain and then Morocco.’

  ‘Where he got hold of the niqab.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Doug Brody must have known Billy did it. Why didn’t he finger him?’

  ‘Steve dug out some stuff that may explain that. The boys were put into care when Doug was ten and Billy was five. Social workers’ reports suggest Doug was always ferocious about protecting his little brother.’

  ‘Why didn’t Steve find him when he was trawling for Doug’s associates?’

  ‘No criminal record. Plenty of crimes, I imagine, but he got away with them. Doug always looked after him.’

  ‘And Billy repaid him by killing his wife and daughter. Jesus. No wonder Doug looks as though he’s going insane.’

  He is silent for a moment. ‘It must have been Karen calling out his name that did it,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Karen knew Billy was around but he thought he could trust her not to tell anyone. Then the dog ran to him and she called out his name – in front of a load of people. That was when he decided to kill her. What’s he done with the money? Did Leanne say?’

  ’He’s got it with him. Used some to buy off Darren. Helped to pay for that nice car.’

  ‘And the gun?’

  ‘Same one he used for the robbery, Leanne says.’

  ‘Has anyone spoken to him yet?’

  ‘He rang the station ten minutes ago. He says we have to let him take Liam to Spain with him or he’ll shoot him. I’ve brought Leanne here. Thought she might be able to appeal to him. But someone needs to speak to him first, don’t they? Find out what he expects to happen, assess the risks. Do you want to do that?’

  Even from where I am, effacing myself on the back seat, I can hear the reluctance in her voice. And so can David.

  ‘You’re a trained negotiator,’ he says. ‘This one’s for you.’

  That’s right, David. Anything for Paula.

  I must make some sort of involuntary sound to go with this thought because Paula is suddenly aware of me. She twists round to look and I give her a little wave from my supine position. ‘Don’t mind me,’ I say. ‘I’m not here.’

  She shoots a look at David; he makes a we’re not talking about this gesture with his hand. ‘Do you want to use my phone?’ he asks.

  She’s about to say something but changes her mind. ‘I’ve got his number in mine,’ she says, ‘but I’ll call him from here if that’s all right. It’d be helpful to have you listening in.’ She shoots another look at me; I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears. ‘Liam sings like an angel,’ I say. ‘That’s why his dad went to the nursery concert. Might help. And now I’m not here.’

  I don’t keep my hands over my ears, of course, but listen with avid attention. She fiddles around, putting her phone to speaker mode. Then it takes a while for her to get through, and it’s not clear to me what the problem is, but then she starts gently, low and slow, just like you’re advised to deal with recalcitrant teenagers in class.

  ‘I’m Paula,’ she says. ‘How are you doing, Billy? The voice the other end is low and barely audible but she doesn’t ask him to repeat. ‘And Liam?’ she asks, ‘How is he?’ Again I don’t hear the answer but she goes on. ‘Do you think I could speak to Liam for a moment, Billy? He must be quite scared. I think it might be helpful for him to know who you’re talking to.’

  There is some kind of movement at the other end – a scuffling, a bit of whispering. ‘Liam?’ Paula asks, very quietly, ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Yes.’ The voice is tiny. Tears are seeping out from under my eyelids.

  ‘Are you OK t
here with your dad, Liam? Have you got nice things to eat and drink?’

  ‘I had crisps,’ he says. ‘And juice.’

  ‘Not stocked for a siege, then,’ David murmurs.

  ‘That sounds nice,’ Paula says. ‘Have you got some toys there too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Why don’t you go and play, then, while I have a chat to your dad?’

  There’s a bit of a hiatus before Paula is back on with Billy.

  ‘He sounds fine, doesn’t he?’ she says. ‘And we want to keep him fine, don’t we? Nothing that’s going to frighten him.’

  For the first time I hear his voice clearly. ‘Course he’s fine,’ he says. ‘Think I can’t look after my own kid?’

  ‘No. I think you love Liam very much, Billy, and you want the best for him.’

  ‘And don’t try telling me he’s better off with that lazy cow and her bent boyfriend.’

  ‘Have you thought about how it would be for Liam, Billy? In a strange country. Away from his friends. With everyone speaking a strange language. He’s just about to start school, you know. That won’t be much fun for him, will it, if he can’t speak the language?’

  ‘He’ll be fine. The two of us, we’ll be fine.’

  ‘So what exactly is it you want, Billy?’

  The voice at the other end is sounding more aggressive now. ‘I’ve told you, I want out of here and out of the country, with my boy. Is that simple enough for you?’

  ‘Well, actually, it’s not that simple if you think about it. Is Liam on your passport? Because, if not, even the police can’t overrule passport control. And then you’re stuck in the mud there, aren’t you. Even if we said, OK, drive away, you wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d need someone to pull you out of the mud and I think you know we’re not going to use police cars to do that.’

  The silence when she stops speaking is absolute; the man seems to have stopped breathing. Paula must have pressed mute because she says to David, ‘I think he’s put the phone down.’