‘Aren’t we all, Nick?’ Harry said, putting his hands out as though by doing so he was lumping them altogether as one.
Nick’s fingers danced around on his phone for a few seconds, then he turned it around and showed Harry and Matt the screen.
‘That’s what I got,’ Nick said, pointing a thin, bony finger, which resembled a sun-bleached twig, at the screen. ‘And that’s the number there, see?’
Both Harry and Matt jotted the number down quickly, and the message.
‘And that’s all you got?’ Matt asked. ‘Nothing else? No other messages?’
Nick gave a nod. ‘Got it early morning. Woke me up.’
Harry asked, ‘And what time was that?’
‘Says on the message,’ Nick said. ‘Seven fifteen.’
‘And where were you when you received it?’ Harry asked again, trying to keep Nick moving now, not wanting to give him chance to stop and think.
‘Home,’ Nick replied, pulling his phone back and stuffing it back into a pocket.
‘He lives just of Brunt Acres Road,’ Matt explained. ‘On the road out towards Hardraw.’
Harry nodded as though he knew exactly where that was, which he didn’t. He was still thinking about the message he’d just read on Nick’s phone. ‘Not much of a message, is it?’ he said. ‘Need a bit of a hand. Can you help? You often get messages like that from John?’
‘No,’ Nick replied. ‘That’s why I went out there, like. See what was up.’
‘And you just headed off out there, did you?’ Matt asked. ‘Jumped out of bed, and into your car?’
‘He’s a mate!’ Nick said. ‘Of course I did! Wouldn’t you?’
Harry wasn’t convinced Nick was the kind of person to jump out of bed for anyone or anything unless there was something in it for him. He didn’t exactly strike him as the Good Samaritan type. ‘So what did you think when you got there?’ he asked. ‘About the message I mean.’
Nick shrugged. ‘I just saw that John was in a bad way so I called nine-nine-nine.’
‘And didn’t mention the message.’
Nick shook his head.
‘And you’re sure that’s John’s number?’
‘Yes,’ Nick said. ‘He’s in my contacts. It was him who sent it alright.’
‘Well, it was his phone, at any rate,’ Matt said.
Harry’s head was starting to hurt. He’d hoped for more from catching up with Nick, but so far they’d got nothing more than what they already knew. ‘So you’re good friends with John, then?’
Nick gave a nod.
‘Does he have many other friends?’
Nick actually laughed. ‘John? You’re having a laugh, aren’t you?’
‘This look like a face that laughs much to you?’ Harry asked.
Nick’s laugh died as quickly as it had started and he said, ‘It’s just that he’s a bit of a rogue, you see.’
‘A rogue? You make him sound like Han bloody Solo!’
And just what was it with Nick using words he’d not heard in decades, thought Harry? Rogue? Who the hell says rogue?
‘You know, bit of a rum ‘un. I mean, he’s not bad, not really.’
‘What about enemies then,’ Harry asked. ‘If he’s running low on numbers when it comes to people who like him, then I’m guessing there are plenty who don’t.’
‘John doesn’t, I mean didn’t, care,’ Nick said, slumping on his chair now, and Harry heard the sadness in the man’s voice. ‘No one liked him, not since he was a kid. Well, a few of us did, but the rest? No chance. They didn’t know what it was like for him at home, did they?’
‘So you’ve been friends since school?’
Nick gave a shallow nod. ‘We had our own little gang in the end,’ he said. ‘Used to play together a lot, like. You know, games like Kick the Can, Tag, Cowboys and Indians, that kind of thing. We were always the Indians, though. Named ourselves after them, didn’t we? They were John’s favourite.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘What does it matter?’ Nick snapped back, and Harry sensed there was more behind those words than Nick was letting on. ‘It was years ago! Can’t bloody remember much of it anyways.’
‘And I think it should be cowboys and Native Americans now,’ Matt said. ‘And you were the Native Americans, Nick. Not Indians.’
‘Do I look like I care?’ Nick grumbled. ‘There’s nowt else I’ve got to say. John’s dead. That’s all I know.’
‘From what I’ve heard, he was a bit of a bully,’ Harry said. ‘Was he like that at school as well?’
Nick let out a short bark of a laugh and rolled his eyes. ‘It was tough back then,’ he said. ‘School was hard and so was John. Simple as that.’
‘So he was a bully, then?’ Harry asked.
‘Kids are cruel,’ said Nick with a shrug. ‘Everyone got it bad at some point. Bet you did too, right? Didn’t matter if you were local, new to the school, rich or poor, you had to stand up for yourself. Some got it worse, mind, but what can you do?’
Matt leaned forward and said, ‘I know as well as you do, Nick, that people won’t be exactly lining up to mourn John, sad as it is for the few who liked him, including you. But did you know of anyone who really had it in for him? Enough to do him harm?’
‘Plenty,’ Nick said, ‘and he’d have had them all!’ He was on his feet suddenly, thumping his fist on the table. ‘Take anyone on, would John, no bother at all! And if I find who did this to him, I’ll have ‘em, you hear? I will!’
Harry waited for Nick to calm down and to sit down, then asked, ‘Any names? Anyone specific?’
‘I’m not a grass.’
‘I didn’t say that you were,’ Harry said. ‘But if someone was involved in John’s death, wouldn’t you want to help us find out who? Isn’t that what you’d want to do for John, what a friend would do?’
Nick fell quiet and Harry let the conversation die, punctuating the silence with a yawn that came out far louder than he’d expected.
‘Whatever anyone
