‘And what exactly did he say to you?’ Bliss had asked.
‘He told me he’d given the kid a hiding from time to time, that it was what good male role models did to make sure kids had discipline later on in life – plus it forced the kid to do as he was told there and then. He said he’d been at home all evening taking care of the little brat while the boy’s mother was off gallivanting with her trampy friends – his words, not mine.’
At that point Moss had broken off from his story, looking across at Bliss as if seeking some kind of acknowledgement that the difference between him and Watson was plain to see. Bliss had nodded for him to continue, which Moss did after clearing his throat.
‘Anyway, it turned out that the boy hadn’t eaten all night. Neil had assumed the kid’s mother had fed him before she went out, but she’d left it for him to do. When the two of them started arguing, the boy butted in, and Neil lost it. Completely. He told me it felt like someone else’s hands and feet laying into the poor little sod, until he noticed the blood all over his own clothes, and felt it on his face. He warned his other half not to say a word to anyone about him being there. Said he threatened her, but he didn’t go into details about it.’
‘So you knew he’d snapped and killed the boy, and still you covered for him,’ Bliss had said in disgust. ‘Perjured yourself for him, knowing he was a child-killer.’
‘Yeah.’ Moss had not been able to meet his eyes. ‘But not because we were mates – it was never about that. Any other friend and I wouldn’t have done it.’
‘Then why?’
After a moment, he managed to look up. ‘Because I was shit scared. That’s the truth of the matter. Neil terrifies me when he goes off on one, and I had no intention of being on the end of it.’
Bliss shuddered at the memory, and at the image currently playing on a loop inside his head. Hearing this new version of events, it felt almost as if he had been there with Watson. If he closed his eyes, he could see the heavily muscled lunatic, eyes wide with rage, foam spilling from his lips. Slapping, punching, kicking the defenceless little boy. And later picking up the lad’s cricket bat…
How must that have looked through the kid’s eyes?
How must it have felt?
Bliss quelled his mounting fury before setting off for work. He also placed a call to an office at Hinchingbrooke HQ.
‘DS Nicholls.’
‘Harvey, it’s Jimmy Bliss.’ The man’s real name was Paul, but where was the fun in that?
‘Hiya, Jimmy. What can I do for you this dull morning?’
‘I was wondering if we could meet around lunchtime today. Say half-twelve?’
‘I can do that unless I’m called out, of course. What’s up?’
‘It’s about Neil Watson.’
Silence. Then, ‘I was afraid you were going to say that. You weren’t able to let it go, were you?’
‘No. And it’s not a matter of me second-guessing your case against him, Harvey. You did nothing wrong. He pulled a fast one, and it had the desired effect. But I may have opened the door for you.’
‘And we need to discuss it in private, I’m assuming?’
‘We do. I didn’t exactly go through the proper channels to obtain the information I have.’
‘Of course not. Why would you?’
‘Don’t be like that. I know I went behind your back, but it had to be done. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else. You want what I have or not?’
‘If it helps nail that sick fucker – absolutely.’
‘Good man.’
They agreed upon a meeting point before Bliss disconnected – not only from the call, but from that particular investigation. A more pressing case awaited him at Thorpe Wood, and for one poor young woman each minute that passed had to feel like a lifetime.
The rain was holding off when he stepped outside the front door, but he could smell it in the air and feel it settle beneath his skin. The old labrador lay nestled close by, so Bliss quickly went back indoors to fetch a dish of water and a few crumbled-up treats for his relatively new pal.
He took his first call of the day as he settled behind the wheel of his car. It was from Sandra Bannister.
‘If you’re calling to give me a bollocking, save your breath,’ he said. ‘I apologise. I should have come back to you sooner.’
‘You’re damn right about that! Have you seen the front-page story the Express is running with today?’
He hadn’t, but immediately felt familiar hooks of anger and frustration raking at him. ‘I’m guessing it’s about the serial we appear to have inherited?’
‘What the… what’s going on, Jimmy? You have something this big, and you leave me out in the cold? Why am I only finding out after some gleeful prick who wants my job sends me a web link?’
‘I’ve not seen the article, Sandra. But it’s a leak, not a plant. We didn’t want this out there.’
‘Are you sure about that? I know how you people operate, remember?’
‘I’m certain. There’s no way this is good for us or our investigation.’
Bannister paused. They’d built up a fair amount of trust over time, and he hoped she’d realise he was telling her the truth. ‘Fair enough. But why am I only learning about it for the first time now?’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry, and I am. I did call you; you didn’t answer and I decided not to leave a message. I forgot to call back, but it didn’t seem urgent. When I saw your name pop up, I thought you were getting back to me for an update. I genuinely had no idea this was going on.’
‘None of which helps, to be perfectly honest with you, Jimmy. My editors expect me to be on the leading edge of activity at Thorpe
