‘You sound like our mother.’
‘That’s what I am now to you. You’re supposed to be the man of the house, even though it’s only the two of us, but you’re acting like the child. Stand up and be counted.’
Charisa realised the conversation was going nowhere. She changed tack. ‘They want their money within a few days, what are you going to do?’
‘I will make a deal with them to protect you,’ Billy said.
Charisa knew that Billy loved her, the way she loved him. Even if his actions were dishonourable, his intent was not. She knew she had to protect him from his own folly. She ended the phone conversation and made another phone call. ‘It’s Billy,’ she said.
‘What about him?’ Isaac said. Charisa knew that her approach had an element of risk. If Billy committed an illegal activity, or if he did in the future, she was giving the police early notice of her brother’s decline from decency to dishonesty.
‘He’s planning to do something wrong,’ Charisa said. She was waiting to enter the exam room, and her mind was not focussing. She knew that it would be a disaster to take the exam and a failure would mean a wait of six months before she could sit for it again.
‘I thought he was not going to,’ Isaac said.
‘I’m not sure if he believes in what they do, or whether he's trying to protect me.’
‘Assuming he is, what can he do? It’s forty-six thousand pounds this time. There’s no way he’ll be able to get that sort of money out of the shop and sold on the street.’
‘Maybe you can talk to him?’
‘I’ll bring him in, subject him to the third degree. And you’ve got to disappear, exam or no exam.’
‘I’ll phone Troy. He’ll have to understand.’
‘Will he?’
‘Yes, I know he will. I can’t leave England while Billy is wavering. He’s all I’ve got left after Mum and Samuel died.’
‘When will you disappear?’
‘I need to go home, collect some clothes. Later today.’
‘It needs to be now. I’ll send over Sergeant Gladstone to your college. She’ll stay with you until you’re safe,’ Isaac said. Wendy had been listening to the conversation; she nodded her head.
‘Tell her ten minutes,’ Wendy said.
***
Larry had spent a day working his contacts, seeing if there was any further evidence that could link Negril Bob and his gang to three deaths, those of Samuel Devon, Rasta Joe, and a homeless man. It was dark, and he still had one more possibility. The homeless man had a friend who went by the name of Dave. The man had not been seen for a few days, though there was nothing unusual in that as he was also homeless, and he moved around the area, sometimes sleeping here, sometimes there. He had heard from another homeless man that Dave could be found around the back of a local hardware store, sleeping in the back entrance doorway.
Larry parked his car at the end of the street. The rain had started to fall, and it was miserable. He would just talk to this man, find out what he had to say, and then be off home. His wife, by way of a treat for him losing weight, had promised to make him a good meal for once, steak and kidney pie, followed by apple crumble and an early night.
Up ahead, Larry could see a man huddled in a doorway. ‘Dave?’ Larry said.
‘What do you want? This is my place so you can bugger off.’
‘Detective Inspector Larry Hill, Challis Street Police Station.’
‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘I know that. I’ve a few questions for you, nothing more.’
‘You don’t have a bottle of something, do you?’
‘I’m afraid not, although I could give you some money if you want.’
‘Fifty pounds.’
‘Fair enough. You had a friend, he was a witness to someone dying.’
‘Where is my money?’
Larry pulled out his wallet, removed the fifty pounds and gave it to the man, standing to one side to avoid the smell.
‘He told me about it,’ Dave said.
‘Were you there?’
‘I don’t get involved, it’s safer that way.’
‘Are you saying you were there, or you weren’t?’
‘I mind my own business. They killed him, you know?’
‘Who?’
‘Gappy, my friend, the one you’re referring to.’
‘Why Gappy?’
‘He had no teeth, not at the front anyway.’
Dave, were you there when they beat the man to death?’
‘I need another fifty pounds. I need to buy myself some food.’
Larry complied, opening his wallet. The homeless man took the money and stuffed it inside the old coat that he wore. Larry knew that it was not food that Dave would be buying.
‘I was there, but no one saw me, and Gappy, he knew I’d not say anything.’
‘You are now.’
‘Here, not in your police station, and not in any court.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘I spent time in prison, long time ago. I don’t intend to go back.’
‘You’re a witness, not a criminal. That won’t happen.’
‘It did last time.’
Larry realised that the man was probably confused, and an unreliable witness. ‘Did you hear any names mentioned?’
‘Only Rasta Joe and Negril Bob.’
‘Rasta Joe was the man who was killed.’
‘I know that. I’m not stupid. It was Negril Bob who was hitting him.’
‘How do you know this. Gappy said it was dark and he only heard voices.’
‘His eyesight wasn’t so good. It was Negril Bob; I know him well enough.’
‘Will you testify against him?’
‘Not a chance. I’ve told you what happened, but don’t take me down to your police station.’
‘If I do, you’ll change your story.’
‘That’s it.’
Larry knew that Dave would not stand up in court to testify and that the defence would
