ability to do so was one of the most important tools in any detective’s toolbox.
Neil released his lip suddenly and touched a finger to it. Blood. He stared at the crimson droplet as if trying to work out what it was. “Nearly ten thousand.” His voice was tiny as the squeak of a mouse.
“Is it a gambling debt?”
“I’ve never gambled in my life. It was a loan.”
“What for?”
Neil gave a slight shrug. “A car, clothes, furniture, rent for my flat.”
“But you live with your parents.”
“I do now, but a few years ago I moved out and lived in a flat in Ranmoor.”
Harlan’s eyebrows lifted. Ranmoor was an upscale suburb on the south side. Neil obviously had ambitions to escape Manor Lane. “That’s a long way from the Manor.”
Neil’s nose wrinkled as if the word ‘Manor’ smelled bad, but he said nothing.
“What’s the flat’s address?”
“340 Manchester Road. Flat 1b.”
“Nice place was it?”
Again a shrug. “It was just a one bed-roomed basement flat, but I liked it.”
“How long did you live there?”
“A couple of years.”
“So you lived above your means and ended up having to run home to mum and dad. That must’ve hurt.”
Neil remained silent, but his expression answered all.
“Who put you in contact with Dawson?”
“A friend.”
“Name?”
“Dave Brierly. A guy I play darts with.” Neil’s eyes blinked as though he had a pain behind them. “He told me not to go to Dawson, but I didn’t listen. I must’ve been mad. I never seem to be able to pay off what I owe. The debt just keeps getting bigger.”
“That’s how scumbags like Dawson operate.” Looking at Neil’s tired boy-man face, Harlan felt a needle of sympathy. Alcoholic father, Manor Lane, no prospects — the kid hadn’t exactly been dealt much of a hand. He pushed the emotion aside. He couldn’t afford sympathy, not considering what was at stake. “Why didn’t you tell the police about your debt?”
“I’ve never told anyone about it. Not even my parents.”
“Why?”
Neil was silent a moment, then he said quietly, “I was ashamed. When I had to give up my flat and return home, I felt such a…a…” He trailed off as if he couldn’t bear to say the word.
Harlan said it for him. “Failure.”
Neil nodded, his head hanging low as if a heavy weight was pressing on the back of it.
“And is that why you haven’t told Susan either?”
“That and because, well, she’s already got so much to deal with. I don’t just mean with Ethan, I mean with her being a single mum and barely having enough money to get by. I was afraid that if she found out she’d leave me. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Sure I can, but I don’t think that’s all there is to it. Is there, Neil?”
Eyes wide and glistening, Neil jerked his head up. “What do you mean?”
“A young boy’s been abducted and you’re hiding things from the police. You must see how that looks.”
“I know it looks bad, but you’ve got to believe me it’s got nothing to do with Ethan’s abduction.” Neil pressed his hand over his heart in avowal. “I love that boy. Since he was taken I’ve done everything I can to try and help get him back. I’ve handed out thousands of missing-person posters, I’ve helped organise fundraisers, I’ve-”
“Maybe you’re just trying hard not to look suspicious,” cut in Harlan. “I’ve been involved in plenty of murder investigations where someone’s come forward to offer their help only to turn out to be the killer.”
“Why would I take Ethan?”
“Plenty of reasons. Maybe you sold him to a paedophile ring. Maybe you’re a paedophile yourself. Or maybe you’ve cooked up some plan to get your hands on the reward money.”
Neil shook his head vehemently, eyes bulging at Harlan. “You’re crazy.” His voice rose as indignation overcame his submissiveness. “I love Ethan.”
Ah, so you can get angry, thought Harlan, returning Neil’s stare impassively. “So you said.” He took out his phone and pushed its buttons as slowly and deliberately as he was pushing Neil’s.
“Who are you phoning?”
“The police.”
A sick look came over Neil’s face. “But you said if I told you what you wanted to know you’d keep this between just you and me.”
“I said there was a chance of it. But you haven’t told me anything that’s convinced me not to phone them.”
“I…I-” Desperation made Neil’s voice break. He cleared his throat, before blurting out, “If you tell the police about me, I’ll tell them about you and Jones.”
A hint of a crooked smile crept across Harlan’s lips. The cracks in Neil’s mask of timidity were rapidly growing. It wouldn’t take much more pulling and prodding to reveal his true face. “If you knew me, you’d know that wasn’t a threat to me.”
Neil’s eyes dropped apologetically from Harlan’s. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it.” He breathed a sigh of shame and despair. “I know you’re only doing what you have to do. But that’s all I’m doing too. You see, the thing is, Susan’s the first, the only woman who’s ever looked twice at me. She means more to me than anything. If she leaves me I…I don’t know what I might do. So I’m asking you, begging you, please don’t tell the police.”
There was no lie Harlan could detect in Neil’s voice. All he heard was a pleading, almost pathetic desire to love and be loved. Again, in spite of himself, he felt a stirring of sympathy. He knew what it was like to lose everything that meant anything. He knew what it was like to feel that life is too painful to live. The thought of inflicting that on someone, anyone, else was a torment to him. Again, he slammed a door in his mind, shutting the emotion out. As much as he wanted to believe Neil, he couldn’t risk doing as he asked. “I’ve got to.”
Neil’s features crumpled like a cardboard box left out in the rain. “Okay, tell the police.” His voice was crushed by hopelessness to a whisper. “But before you do, please will you let me tell Susan myself?”
Harlan considered this a moment, then nodded. He took out Neil’s phone and scrolled through its contact’s list for Susan’s number. “Tell her you want to meet at the hospital.”
“Can’t I just go to her house?”
“No. I can’t risk going to her house.”
“You mean you’re going to be there when I tell her.” When Harlan nodded, Neil continued, “I’m not sure I can do it with you there.”
“You’ve got no other choice.”
Harlan pressed the dial button. When Susan picked up, he put the phone on loud-speaker. Her voice came down the line with urgency. She sounded different to how he’d ever heard before — unguarded, less angry, more fragile. “I’ve been trying to ring you. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Before Neil had chance to reply, Susan continued, “I rang Detective Greenwood and he said he didn’t have time to talk. He wouldn’t say why. I got the feeling something’s going on.”
“You get that feeling every time you talk to the police,” said Neil.
“I know, but this time I’m certain of it. Something’s not right. It’s like I keep saying, the police know more than they’re telling us. Oh Christ, Neil, what if…what if they’ve…” Susan’s voice quivered breathlessly as she tried to bring herself to say what she barely dared think.
“Calm down, Susie.” Neil’s voice was soft, reassuring. “Remember what the doctor said to do when you feel like this, take a couple of deep breaths and count to five.” As Susan sucked in her breath, he counted slowly, “One…two…three…four…five… That’s it. Now exhale and say after me, if there were any important developments they’d have told me.”
“If there were any important developments they’d have told me.” Susan sounded calmer, but unconvinced. Harlan wasn’t convinced either. Thinking about how Jim hadn’t answered his phone, he suspected Susan’s instincts
