Echo

If you want your rights respected, then you have to show willing in return.'

'I'll go if you come with me.'

'There'd be no point. Lawyers are the only people allowed in interview rooms.' He searched the lad's anxious face. 'Why the change of heart? You were all fired up to make a statement twenty minutes ago.'

'Yeah, but not down the nick on my own.'

'Tom'll be there.'

A terrible disillusionment curled the boy's lip. 'He doesn't give a toss about me or Walt. He's only interested in licking the Sergeant's arse and getting home to his Mrs. He'll drop me in the shit, quick as winking, if it suits him.'

'What does he know that the rest of us don't?'

'That I'm only fourteen, and that my name's not Terry Dalton. I ran away from care at twelve and I ain't going back.'

Jesus wept! 'Why not? What was so bad about it?''

'The bastard in charge was a sodding shirt-lifter, that's what.' Terry clenched his fists. 'I swore I'd kill him if I ever got the chance, and if they send me back that's what I'm gonna do. You'd better believe that.' He spoke with intense aggression. 'Billy believed it. It's why he watched out for me. He said he didn't want another murder on his conscience.'

Deacon relocked his car door. 'Why do I get the feeling my fate is inextricably linked with Billy Blake's?'

'I don't get you.'

'Does death by starvation sound familiar?' He cuffed the boy lightly across the back of the head. 'There's no food in my flat,' he grumbled, 'and I was planning to do all my shopping this afternoon. It'll be bedlam tomorrow.' He steered Terry towards the policeman. 'Don't panic,' he said more gently as he felt him tense, 'I won't abandon you. Unlike Tom, I have no desire to see either of my wives again.'

'Is that you, Lawrence? It's Michael-Michael Deacon ... Yes, as a matter fact, I do have a problem. I need a respectable lawyer to tell a couple of little white lies for me ... Only to the police.' He held his mobile telephone away from his ear. 'Look, you're the one who told me to get a pet so I reckon you owe me some support here ... No, it's not a dangerous dog and it hasn't bitten anyone. It's a harmless little stray ... I can't prove ownership so they look like impounding him over Christmas ... Yes, I agree. It's a shame ... That's it. All I need is a sponsor ... You will? Good man. It's the police station on the Isle of Dogs. I'll reimburse the taxi fare when you get here.'

Terry was hunched in the passenger seat of Deacon's car in an East End backstreet. 'You should've told him the truth. He'll blow a fuse when he gets here and finds I'm a bloke. There's no way he's going to tell lies for someone he doesn't know.' He put his fingers on the door handle. 'I reckon I should take off now while the going's good.'

'Don't even think about it,' said Deacon evenly. 'I promised Sergeant Harrison you'd be at the nick by five o'clock, and you're going to be there.' He offered the boy a cigarette and took one himself. 'Look, no one's forcing you to make this statement, you're volunteering it, so you won't be put through the third degree unless Tom decides to drop you in it. Even then, you'll be treated with kid gloves because children aren't allowed to be interviewed without an adult present. I guarantee it won't even come to that, but if it does Lawrence will get you out.'

'Yeah, but-'

'Trust me. If Lawrence says your name's Terry Dalton and you're aged eighteen, then the police will believe him. He's very convincing. He looks like a cross between the Pope and Albert Einstein.'

'He's a fucking lawyer. If you tell him the truth, he'll have to pass it on to the cops. That's what lawyers do.'

'No, they don't,' said Deacon with more conviction than he felt. 'They represent their client's interests. But, in any case, I won't tell Lawrence anything unless I have to.'

Terry was grinning broadly as he left the interview room. 'You coming?' he asked Deacon and Lawrence as he passed them in the waiting room on his way out.

They caught up with him in the street. 'Well?' demanded Deacon.

'No problem. It never crossed their minds I wasn't who I said I was.' He started to laugh.

'What's so funny?'

'They warned me off you and Lawrence because they reckoned you were a couple of chutney ferrets after my arse. Otherwise, why'd you be hanging around when all I was doing was making a statement?'

'God almighty!' snarled Deacon. 'What did you say?'

'I said they needn't worry because I don't do that kind of stuff.'

'Oh, great! So our reputations go down the pan while you come out smelling of roses.'

'That's about the size of it,' said Terry, retreating behind Lawrence for safety.

Lawrence chuckled joyfully. 'To be honest, I'm flattered anyone thinks I still have the energy to do anything so active.' He tucked his hand into Terry's arm and drew him along the pavement towards a pub on the corner. 'What was the term you used? Chutney ferret? Of course I'm a very old man, and not at all in touch with modern idiom, but I do think gay is preferable.' He paused in front of the pub door, waiting for Terry to open it for him. 'Thank you,' he said, gripping the boy's hand to steady himself as he carefully mounted the step at the entrance.

Terry threw an anguished glance over his shoulder at Deacon which clearly said-this old guy's got his hand in mine, and I think he's a fucking woofter-but Deacon only bared his teeth in a savage smile. 'Serves you right,' he mouthed, following them inside.

Barry Grover looked up rather guiltily as the security guard opened the cuttings' library door and stepped inside. 'All right, son, let's have you out of here,' said Glen Hopkins firmly. 'The office is closed and you are supposed to be on holiday.'