Blood Guilt (34 page)

“Neither did I, but
things change.”

“Take your foot out of
the door,” Harlan said to Neil.

“It’s okay,” said
Susan, reaching for her coat. “I’m going out. I shouldn’t be long. If anyone
phones–”

“I’ll call you straight
away.” Harlan gave Neil a hard look of warning. The younger man’s eyes dropped
away from his. Neil held his hand out for Susan, but she walked past him
without taking it. Like an eager puppy, he trotted after her.

Harlan lay on the sofa.
There was no sound from upstairs. The house was silent, except for the ticking
of the clock. The painkillers were wearing off, but he didn’t reach for more.
Instead, he focused on the pain, using it to deaden his psychological agony.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. The daylight began to drop, but still Susan
didn’t return. Whatever Neil was saying, she was obviously listening. A
piercing scream clawed the throat of the silence. Heart lurching, Harlan jerked
to his feet. An electric shock of pain almost sent him reeling back onto the
sofa. Clutching his wound, he climbed the stairs as fast as his leaden legs
could manage. Another scream rang out as he entered Kane’s bedroom. The boy was
laid fully clothed on his bed, eyes closed, face contorted in terror. A sheen
of sweat glistened on his flushed face. Harlan shook him gently. “Kane.”

“I saw him,” Kane gasped,
half-sitting up, eyes popping wide. “I saw him at the window.”

“Saw who?”

“That man from the
line-up.”

“No you didn’t, you
were dreaming. It was only a nightmare.”

Harlan’s words smoothed
the lines of fear from Kane’s face. He dropped back onto his pillows. Harlan’s
nose wrinkled at the room’s warm, mildewy air. He moved to open the window. A
tang of bitumen wafted in on the cool breeze. “Are you okay now?”

Kane nodded. “Where’s
my mum?”

“She had to go out.
She’ll be back soon. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Harlan headed for the
kitchen and a glass of water. He swallowed his pills, then sat perfectly still,
waiting for them to kick in. Another half an hour ticked by. A new kernel of worry
began to form in his mind. Where the hell was Susan? He was about to reach for
his phone to find out, when Kane rushed into the room and exclaimed, “I know
who it is.”

“What do you mean, you
know who it is?”

Kane’s words tumbled
out in a breathless rush. “He’s the man I saw at my bedroom window.”

“You had another
dream.”

Kane shook his head
frantically. “I don’t mean now. I saw him there ages and ages ago. He came to
fix our roof.”

Harlan frowned up at the
boy. “Let me get this straight, you’re saying the man who fixed the roof two
years ago is the man who took Ethan.”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“’Cos there was the
same smell then that there is now. It’s the smell I smelt on the man I saw in
my bedroom. You’ve got to believe me. It’s him. He’s the one! He’s the one!”

Harlan held up a hand,
palm outwards. “Okay, I believe you.” As soon as he said it, he realised he
meant it. Suddenly the puzzle made sense. The smell, that was the missing
piece. It was so elusive that only chance could’ve found it, so intangible that
it couldn’t not be believed. That was why Nash had agreed to cooperate with the
line-up, not out of some sense of guilt or some warped way of apologising to
Mary Webster, but because he had no fear of further incriminating himself or
Jones. He hadn’t abducted Ethan. This man, the roofer, he was the one. And Neil
had brought him here. All the doubts and questions about Neil came rushing back
to the surface of Harlan’s mind. Was he involved after all? And if he was, what
the hell was this all about? Was it a sexual thing? No, if it was then he’d
already got what he was after. He wouldn’t be pleading with Susan to take him
back. As far as Harlan could see, that left only one possibility: money. If
Neil was part of this, it had to be about money. Harlan suddenly found himself
hoping with everything he had that Neil was part of it, because if he was, if
he and this roofer had cooked up some plan to get their hands on the reward,
surely that meant Ethan was still alive. “Do you remember the man’s name?”

“I was never told it.”
Kane’s anxiously rounded eyes scanned Harlan’s features. “What you gonna do?”

In reply, Harlan took
out his phone and dialled Jim. His ex-partner’s voice came wearily through the
phone. “What is it, Harlan? I told you I’d phone if–”

“I don’t think Nash
took Ethan,” interrupted Harlan.

“What the hell are you
talking about? Of course he did. Why are you saying this now when we’re so
close to cracking the case?”

Harlan told Jim why.
Jim considered what he’d heard a brief moment, then he said, “I don’t buy it.
You’re talking about a relatively common smell. Something thousands of people
come into contact with every day.”

“So you’re saying this
is a coincidence.”

“I…” Jim trailed off into
a sigh. “Okay, point taken. I’ll have someone look into this. What’s the guy’s
name?”

“I don’t know, but I
can find out.”

“Well get back to me
when you do. But understand this, Harlan, most of our resources are tied up
investigating Nash and Jones, so it may take a few days to get round to
following this up.”

“Don’t give me that,
Jim. You owe me.”

“I know, and I trust
your instincts more than my own. But I need more than what you’re telling me if
I’m going to convince Garrett to pull manpower off our prime suspects and put
them on this.”

“Fine.” Harlan’s voice
rose with irritation. “You need more, I’ll fucking get it.”

“Don’t be like that–”

Harlan hung up on Jim
mid-sentence. He looked at Kane. “I want you to go to your bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. And no
matter what you hear, don’t come down here unless I call you. Understand?”

With sullen reluctance,
Kane nodded and turned to head upstairs. Harlan dialled Susan. She answered
within a ring. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“I just wondered where
you are.” Harlan kept his voice carefully neutral. If Susan picked up on his
anxiety, there was a good chance Neil would too. And he didn’t want to do
anything that might put Neil on his guard.

“I’m heading back now.
I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Susan’s voice sounded different – lighter,
stronger. Harlan guessed that she’d done more than merely listen to Neil, she’d
bought what he was selling.

“Is Neil still with
you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“No reason. I’ll see
you soon.” Harlan hung up and went through to the kitchen. He opened the
cutlery drawer, chose a sharp knife with a four-inch blade and slipped it into
the pocket of his tracksuit bottoms.

Chapter
21

Harlan was hunting
through the cupboards for string or selotape or anything else he could use, if
necessary, to bind Neil’s wrists, when the sound of the front door opening drew
his attention. Susan and Neil were holding hands now. Neil was doing his best
to look grave, but there was a kind of excitability about his manner, as if he
could barely contain his elation at being given a second chance. Susan looked
better too. For the first time in days, there was some real colour in her
cheeks. Harlan felt a pang of regret that once again he was going to shake not
only her trust in Neil, but her faith in her ability as a mother. If Neil did
turn out to be involved, she’d probably never be able to let a man into her
life again. That’d be a tiny price to pay, though, for Ethan’s safe return.

Susan led Neil into the
kitchen. “So you’ve decided to give it another go,” Harlan said, stating the
obvious, not wanting to rush in with questions that might put Neil on his
guard.

Susan nodded, giving
Harlan a sheepish look, as if she wasn’t sure how he’d react to the news.
“People might say I’m a fool for giving him a second chance, and maybe I am,
but…well, the thing is...” She trailed off awkwardly.

“You don’t have to
justify yourself to me.”

“I know, but I feel I
owe you an explanation. Everything that’s happened this past couple of months,
the way Neil’s been there for me, it’s really made me realise just how much he
means to me. I don’t want to lose that, not on top of everything else I’ve
lost.” She gave Neil a glance. “I understand now why he lied to me. And he
understands that if he ever does it again, it’s over. No more chances.”

“I won’t need another
chance,” Neil said. “I promise on my life.” He held out a hand to Harlan.
“Sorry about before.”

“No need.” Harlan took
Neil’s hand. He held it longer than was necessary, staring searchingly into
Neil’s eyes. They were weak looking eyes. The eyes of someone who lacked
self-esteem, someone who might be easily led. Not the eyes of a hardened
criminal.

Blinking, Neil pulled
his hand free.

Susan glanced at the
ceiling, her mind suddenly elsewhere. “How’s he been?” Harlan told Susan about
Kane’s nightmare. Her face wrinkled with concern. “Maybe I should go see him.”

“I wouldn’t. I think
he’s sleeping.” Casually, as if as an afterthought, Harlan added, “The wall
seems to be drying out.”

“What wall?” asked
Neil.

“The roof started
leaking again where your mate…What was his name?” asked Susan.

Perfect
,
thought Harlan,
she’s doing the job for me
.

Neil hesitated to
reply. The faintest ripple of a frown crossed his forehead, but it was
impossible to tell whether the question had sparked a flame of unease or he was
merely searching his memory. “Martin Yates.”

Susan clicked her
fingers. “Martin Yates. That was it. We had to call a roofer out today to fix
his botch job.”

“Have you got his phone
number?” Harlan asked Neil.

“Why?”

“I’m thinking about
ringing the guy to ask for Susan’s money back.”

“I haven’t got his
number. He was just some bloke I played darts with a couple of times. It’s been
over a year since I last saw him.”

“There’s no need to talk
to Martin,” said Susan, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she was wondering
whether there was more to Harlan’s question than the surface of his words
indicated. “Like I said, he did the roof on the cheap. I’m lucky it’s lasted as
long as it has.”

“Well maybe he can do
the job cheaper than we were quoted today.”

The narrowness left
Susan’s eyes. Harlan knew that she knew him well enough by now to know that he
couldn’t care less about the spending or saving of a few quid. And he saw that,
even if she didn’t understand his game, she was playing along, as she said,
“Um, well, I suppose it makes sense to ask. It’s not as though any of us is
flush with cash.” She turned to Neil. “Where did you meet Martin?”

Again, Neil hesitated.
Again, a frown gathered on his face, deeper this time. Again, Harlan couldn’t
tell whether he was troubled or simply struggling to remember. “The Railway
Hotel on Bramall Lane.” 

Harlan knew The Railway
well – as did any copper who’d ever policed a Sheffield United match. “Come on then.”
He reached for Eve’s car keys. “Let’s go see if we can find Martin.”

Neil’s eyebrows lifted.
“What? Now? Can’t it wait?”

Harlan shook his head.
“It was like Niagara Falls in Kane’s room this afternoon. If the roof goes
again, it won’t only be a few tiles that need replacing. The plaster will need
stripping back, a new ceiling will have to be put in, the carpet and
floorboards will have to be ripped–”

“Okay, okay, I get the
point,” sighed Neil. He looked concernedly at Susan. “Will you be okay on your
own?”

She nodded. Neil leaned
in to kiss her, but she turned her face so that his lips brushed her cheek. A
small tick of hurt pulled at his face, but he managed a smile. “This shouldn’t
take long.”

They headed to the car.
As Neil got into the passenger seat, Susan pulled Harlan back by the arm and
hissed in his ear, “What’s going on?”

“I just want to check
something out. It’s probably nothing.”

“You don’t think
Neil’s–”

“We’ll talk later.”

Harlan ducked into the
car. Neil waved at Susan as they pulled away. She didn’t wave back. Neil
released another sighing breath. “This is going to be a complete waste of time.
Chances are, Martin won’t even be there.”

“If he isn’t, we’ll ask
around, see if anyone knows how to get hold of him.” As he spoke, Harlan
watched Neil from the sides of his eyes, taking in every movement, examining
every detail of his face. Was his complexion a shade paler than usual? It was
difficult to tell in the unnatural glow of the streetlamps. His hands were
clenched on his thighs, the veins showing unusually prominent on the backs of
them. A sign of anxiety, perhaps. A few silent minutes passed. Neil’s right
hand crept into his coat pocket.
What’s he got in there
? wondered
Harlan.
A knife
?
A phone
?
Is he trying to send someone a text
to warn them
?
Is it possible to send a text blind
? He resisted an
urge to yank Neil’s hand out of his pocket. He was glad he’d done so a second
later, when Neil took out his glasses and put them on.