beyond, his head slapping against the dividing wall with a sound like a walrus landing on ice.
*
Kate Walker held her index finger up and moved it from left to right. ‘Just follow the finger.’
The large man held up a finger of his own and Kate, ignoring it, jotted down some notes. She turned to the uniformed officer standing in the doorway of the police surgeon’s office. ‘Fit to be interviewed.’
Henson shook his head, an ugly bruise clear on the right-hand side of his swollen head. ‘I want a second opinion.’
‘Okay, my second opinion is that you need to start eating more healthily, do some exercise, lose four or five stone.’
‘You think you’re funny?’
‘No, I think I’m bored looking at you. Take him away, constable.’
The uniform stepped into the room, followed by DI Bennett. Henson stood up and glared down at her. ‘Nobody is getting away with this.’ He looked back at the detective inspector. ‘I have been assaulted.’
‘The incident will be thoroughly investigated.’
Henson snorted dismissively. ‘I have been the victim of a racially based assault and I will get justice.’
Kate smiled despite herself.
Henson stood up. ‘You think that’s funny? You think Enoch Powell’s rivers-of-blood speech was science fiction? It was a prediction that has come true, and you know it. People turn on the television and see every day another knifing, another shooting, another gang-related murder. Black gangs. You tell me it’s right for a white man to feel scared to walk the streets of his own town because of them. Scared for his life.’
‘Your boys just redressing the balance, are they?’
‘I told you. Matt had nothing to do with that stabbing.’
‘You’ll forgive us if we don’t just take your word for that. Come on, Henson. There’s some people want to talk to you.’
Bennett nodded to the uniformed officer who led Henson to the door. He stopped and called back to Kate. ‘If I’m wrong … you tell me why there are over seven times more black people in prison, proportionately speaking, than there are white.’
‘I can guess.’
‘Don’t guess, just look at the facts. That Irish scum Jack Delaney puts my eldest boy in prison for defending himself against a vicious attack from a gang of Paki terrorists.’
Kate kept her face impassive.
‘My other boy goes in the frame for something he didn’t do and everyone involved is going to suffer for it. Mark my words.’
Bennett laughed. ‘What are you going to do, Henson? Sit on us?’
The uniform led Henson out of the office.
‘Nice family,’ said Kate.
‘The apple doesn’t seem to have fallen far from the tree, that’s for sure.’
‘You didn’t tell me that Jack had arrested the Henson boys.’
‘I didn’t know. And it’s not exactly relevant, is it?’
Kate shrugged. ‘Any sign of Henson junior?’
‘Not yet. We’ve got what our American cousins call an APB out on him.’
‘He should be fairly easy to spot.’
‘True – not many people go round with their GCSE woodwork grade tattooed on the back of their head.’
Kate noded. ‘What I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘While you were off arresting Big Daddy I did a little bit of research on the internet.’
‘Go on.’
‘B-minus isn’t just a grade, is it?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No.’
‘What else, then?’
‘A blood type.’
Bennett nodded thoughtfully. ‘True.’
‘As a doctor, I should have thought of it before.’
‘What’s the point of that? Bit like having a tag saying you are a diabetic, that kind of thing?’
‘Well, kind of.’
