Kev drove around the streets not knowing where he was going. Tomma sat in the passenger seat beside him.
“What do you think he knows? He was talking about two bodies.”
“I don’t know, Kev. You never liked Burns but nobody did. They can’t pin that on you.”
“What about the other body though? How does he know it’s us?”
He pulled into the parking space at the end of the pier and looked out to sea. He had to think quickly. He had killed Nick, it was the only way but nobody could prove it was him. He deliberately did it where there were no close circuit television cameras to capture the act. Tomma was the only one who knew and he was part of it so he couldn’t say anything.
“Carter’s guessing; he has to be. What does he mean about you being in danger? We would know if someone was trying to move onto our patch.”
Tomma was as confused as Kev. Whilst he was happy that Nick was out of the way, the last thing he needed now was a turf war. He wanted to get away with as little fuss as possible. He was sure that Kev had nothing to do with the attack on Ingham’s house. He wanted to tell him about Ingham’s visit but knew he couldn’t.
“I could lie low for a few weeks and let it all blow all over.” Kev looked out to sea.
“If somebody is looking to make a move on you, the last thing you should be doing is lying low. They’ll walk all over you.”
“I could take the money and run. I’ve got enough tucked away to last a long time. I don’t need the hassle any more.”
He ran this over and over in his head trying to think of a reason why he shouldn’t leave. He wanted to take Elizabeth with him but that would mean taking her kids and having to look over his shoulder all of the time waiting for a visit from Ingham. It was worth the risk. He would take care of Claire; she could keep the house. He knew that Claire would never leave with him; he had already lost her. Then he thought; if Claire didn’t love him, why would Elizabeth? Was there any reason for her to move away? She already had everything she wanted. He had no options.
“I’m staying put and going to act as if nothing had happened,” Kev had made his mind up. “If someone is going to have a go then let them try. Bring it on. If there’s going to be bloodshed then so be it.”
“You know I’m with you all the way don’t you?”
“Cheers, Tomma. I appreciate it.” Kev started the engine and indicated to pull out.
“What’s this?” Tomma picked up a card from the dashboard.
“Fucking school reunion. That’s all I need.”
“How come I didn’t get invited?” Tomma looked hurt at his omission.
“Are you alright son? Do you need a cup of tea or a glass of pop or anything?” Kev shook his head.
“Can you tell me in your own words what happened? Take as much time as you like.”
DI Carter looked at the young lad in front of him. Barely eleven years old and he had spent the previous night sitting with his dead father as he lay in a pool of blood. Carter fully understood why the boy was silent. Kev sat staring at the table, occasionally biting his nails. The social worker tried to put her hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.
“Where’s my sister? Is she alright?”
“She’s being looked after. You’ll be able to see her as soon as you’ve given us a statement.”
“What’s going to happen to us?” asked Kev, “I’m not going in a home.”
Carter looked at the social worker who shrugged.
“We’ve got plenty of time to discuss that Kevin. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“My Dad had been out. Just for a couple of hours mind, he wasn’t drunk.”
“It’s okay, son. We know he’d been down the pub, we’ve spoken to the barman. What happened after he returned?”
“He’d brought me a bag of nuts back from the pub, dry roasted they were. He told me I could eat them and then I had to go to bed. Elaine was already asleep. He poured himself a whisky, just to help him sleep.”
Carter already knew how drunk Albert had been when he left the pub. The interview with the barman had revealed that he had been asked to leave the pub after a fight over a card game.
“I went to bed after I’d eaten my nuts but I wasn’t tired. I decided to read my comics for a bit. My Dad wouldn’t have been happy if he’d caught me, so I used my torch under the blankets. I’d been in bed for about half an hour when I heard my Dad arguing with someone. ‘Who are you looking at?’ He shouted but nobody answered. ‘I said who the fuck are you looking at?’ but still nobody answered. I knew that my Dad would only get angrier when this man didn’t answer. I heard him get up from his chair. I got out of bed and went to the top of the stairs. My Dad was in the hall. He was pulling his shoulders back, the veins bulging in his temples. I tried to stop him. ‘Dad, who are you shouting at?’ I tried to tell him that that there was nobody there.”
Kev was now crying and the social worker handed him a tissue. He refused it and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
“He kept on shouting ‘This Bastard here! Who do people think they are, staring at me? Not good enough for them eh?’ He was staring at the door. I tried to tell him. I tried to tell him that the face he thought he saw staring at him was just the light of the moon reflecting through the door. He took no notice. It was as if I wasn’t there. He went to head-but the face that was looking at him. His head went thought the glass in the door and it sliced his neck open. There was nothing I could do.”
“Why didn’t you phone for an ambulance?” asked Carter.
“My Dad would have killed me. He told us that you never call the police. No matter what the reason was. I knew that if I called an ambulance then you lot would turn up. You would put us in a home, saying he couldn’t cope. I tried to stop the bleeding but nothing worked. I sat with him all night, I don’t know when he died.”
Kev took the tissue from the Social Worker and dried his eyes. He sniffed loudly.
“Thanks son. I know how difficult that must have been for you.”
Another installment to follow same time next week.
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