Deity

‘Get on it. Yvette and Russell have moved around a lot but there must be records.’

They turned and walked towards the group of emergency rescue workers chatting by the river wall. Pullin nodded at Brook.

‘Keith,’ Brook said, after a pause to double-check his memory.

‘That’s correct, Inspector,’ answered Pullin with a grin. His colleagues joined in. They obviously knew the background to his reply.

Brook pressed on. ‘How deep is it down there?’ he said, looking down at the water.

‘Deep enough.’

‘We’re missing four students,’ continued Brook. ‘This looks like one of them. Could there be more bodies down there?’

Pullin narrowed his eyes. ‘If they’re weighed down — it’s possible.’ There was a long pause. ‘Would you like us to have a look?’

Brook smiled his reply and Pullin turned away disconsolately to brief his divers.

Brook sauntered along the river wall, looking across the Derwent to Riverside Gardens, with its steps leading down to the water. Swans and ducks were gliding around on the deceptively still surface. Beyond stood the City Council House and further round to the right an inquisitive crowd was gathering on Exeter Bridge even at such an early hour.

‘Tell me we’ve got some film to look at, John.’

‘Cooper’s already at the Control Room.’

A commotion from Meadow Road turned both their heads. A yellow taxicab was pulling away and its passenger made a bee-line for the boundary tape.

‘Let me through,’ shouted a female voice. She tried to duck under the tape but a Constable grabbed her and held her fast.

‘Let me go. I want to see my son.’

Brook and Noble ran up to reinforce the human barrier.

‘Is it true you’ve found a body?’ panted Yvette Thomson, still wriggling to be free. Their faces confirmed it. ‘Is it Rusty?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ said Brook, putting a hand on her arm.

‘I want to see him.’

‘I’m sorry, you can’t,’ said Noble.

‘How did you know we’d found a body?’ asked Brook.

She hesitated. ‘Someone phoned me.’

Brook glanced over at Noble. He shook his head.

‘Is it Rusty?’ she demanded.

Brook didn’t reply. In most of these situations, he could usually walk away from distressed relatives, safe in the knowledge that someone far more sympathetic would be available to offer comfort and soothing platitudes. Eventually he decided to put his faith in the facts. ‘It’s a young man but it’s hard to identify him. He’s been in the water a while.’

Yvette stopped struggling and steepled her hands over her nose and mouth. ‘Oh my God.’

‘Who phoned you about the body?’ asked Noble.

She seemed not to have heard him. ‘Let me see him.’

‘We can’t allow that,’ said Noble. ‘They’re still processing. .’

Yvette Thomson broke free and ran towards the screens, Brook and Noble in pursuit but she was too fast for them. She reached the screens and stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.’ Her eyes, like small moons, were fixed on the bloated remains. Brook reached her and tried to turn her away but she shook him off and continued to stare. Eventually she turned away and ran to a nearby bench. She sat down and put her head between her knees and threw up.

Brook and Noble gave her some room. Eventually Brook approached her with a tissue. She accepted it without a glance at him, instead gazing straight ahead. ‘How can you. .?’ She looked at the ground, the sentence unfinished.

‘I’m sorry you had to see him like that,’ said Brook quietly.

She shook her head, still looking at the ground. Then her head snapped up, searching for Brook’s eye. ‘It’s not Rusty.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Certain. It’s the hair. The zigzag — I think it’s Wilson Woodrow.’

Brook walked with Noble back to his car. ‘Playtime’s over, John. Pick up Jake McKenzie.’

‘Arrest him? On what charge?’

‘He was there at Kyle’s assault. Use that.’

‘There’s no evidence he took part.’

‘Then he’s got nothing to worry about, but if we arrest him we can get DNA. Maybe it’s his blood on the plaster in Kyle’s house. And get a warrant for his computer and phone and do the same for Fern Stretton and Adam Rifkind. I want all the text messages and emails and Facebook messages they’ve ever sent to, or received from, Adele, Russell, Kyle and Becky. If one of them sent a carrier-pigeon ten years ago, I want to know about it.’

‘You want me to sort out next-of-kin for Wilson?’

‘Set it up.’ Noble turned away. ‘Oh, and John. Better get PC Patel over to Alice Kennedy’s to let her know we’ve found a body before she hears it from someone else.’

‘Someone else?’ said Noble.

‘The someone else who tipped off Yvette Thomson.’

Noble nodded, tight-lipped. ‘Want Patel to tell her it’s not Kyle?’

‘As long as she makes it clear that nothing’s definite until ID.’

Noble took out his cigarettes and offered one to Brook. He declined with a faint shake of the head.

‘I missed it, John. I completely missed it.’

Noble’s brow furrowed. ‘Missed what?’

Brook looked him in the eye. ‘The evil. There’s a fox in the henhouse and these kids are in danger.’

‘Where’s Dad?’ panted Jake, coming to a halt and opening the gate for his mother.

‘Gone fishing,’ she replied.

‘Why the-’ Jake stopped himself. It was pointless. He’d tried before. His mother worked all hours serving in a bakery for a pittance and his dad wouldn’t give her a lift into town even on his Saturday off. ‘Bye, Mum. Love you.’

Jake’s mother smiled back in that way she had. That makes it all worthwhile, the smile told him. He knew she’d be wearing it all day. She blew him a kiss and he watched her turn the corner to catch the bus. He was relieved. He loved his mum to bits, and he didn’t know why, but when he was alone, everything seemed less intense.

He finished a couple of warm-down exercises in the front yard and pulled off his sweat-stained top, closing his eyes to the piercing early morning sun. It was going to be a beautiful day and so far he had it to himself. He sat bare-chested on the front step revelling in the steam rising from his torso then fished out his iPhone to check his messages. His mouth fell open — he had a text from Kyle.

Jake read the message, dismayed. He closed his eyes again, this time squeezing a drop of moisture on to his cheek. He wiped his face brusquely and roused himself. It wasn’t too late. He reread the message then dialled 999 but rang off before the first ring had ended. He tried to think. He returned to Kyle’s message and sent off a reply. Where r u? Feds looking everywhere.

He leaned on the gate awaiting his reply, trying to forget the accusation in Kyle’s message, trying to ignore its truth.

A couple of teenage girls rounded the corner, each sucking urgently on a cigarette. They both wore far too much makeup, tight, low-cut tops and short skirts. They walked arm-inarm towards him, giggling as they drew near enough to give his smooth torso a serious examination.

Jake knew one of them and smiled faintly in their direction.