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“It seems to me,” Eddy said once they were outside, “that guy would fit in well with Harrison-Bowen and his gang.”
“Agreed,” Charlie replied.
They found Kaylan Sully sitting on a hospital bed with his feet up, and his back against a pile of pillows. He looked like the picture in his file, but paler and grubbier. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair needed a wash, he had a week’s worth of blond stubble and his clothes looked as if he had slept in them. He wore a plastic hospital bracelet, and the back of his left hand had a blob of cotton wool fastened in place with several strips of sticky fabric tape.
“Hey,” he said, when the nurse introduced Charlie and Eddy. “You gonna take me home, because I think I’m wearing out my welcome here.”
“Home being Llanfair? Or Chicago?”
Kaylan held a hand up, as if warding them away, and frowned.
“Not Chicago. I need to get back to college. I’ve missed a week. These people say I’m fine to go, just dehydrated and they’ve sorted that.” He showed them the hand with the plaster. “I’ve had bags full of hydration.”
“Can you tell us where you’ve been? And where Rico is?” Charlie asked.
Kaylan looked Charlie directly in the eyes. His stare was disconcerting, because it was so deliberate. Kaylan wanted Charlie to see him looking. Wanted Charlie to see that he had nothing to hide. Maybe he didn’t.
“I don’t know where I’ve been, and I don’t know where Rico is. I know I’m in a hospital near Manchester, and that some police from a dinky village brought me here. I can remember being in my room at the college, and the next thing, I’m outside a police station somewhere I’ve never heard of. And they keep telling me I’ve been missing for a week. I’ve had my mom and dad in hysterics, threatening to make me go home. I had to get one of the nurses to calm them down.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Can we go?”
Eddy stepped into Kaylan’s personal space.
“This isn’t a taxi service, mate. This morning you told the local coppers that Rico was dead. Now you’re saying you don’t remember anything. Which one is it?”
“Hey, officer, back up. I told you I don’t remember, and I don’t remember saying Rico was dead either.”
Eddy didn’t move.
“You’ve been gone a week, and all that’s wrong with you is dehydration. Are you seriously expecting us to believe you have no idea how you got from north Wales to greater Manchester?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I expect you to believe, because that’s what happened. Now I’m going back to college, and if you aren’t going to take me, I’ll get someone here to call me a cab.”
This time Eddy did take a step backwards. “We’ll take you back to Llanfair, Kaylan, but don’t think for a minute that you’re finished with us.”
The drive back to Llanfair was as quick as the drive to Brocklehurst. Clearly Eddy had one way of driving, and it was as fast as he could. Kaylan sat in the back seat, behind Charlie, and sulked. Charlie marvelled that anyone could sulk for an hour without speaking, though he had grown up with a woman who could radiate disapproval for days. Same thing, I suppose. With Kaylan in the back, they couldn’t discuss the case, so Eddy put his music back on. Charlie listened happily, trying to concentrate on the songs rather than the potential disasters waiting back in Llanfair. Rico was still missing, Kaylan’s story made no sense, there were porn videos in the police station, someone had firebombed his car, his boss was in trouble… round and round went the thoughts. Glancing over at Eddy, Charlie suspected that similar thoughts were chasing themselves in Eddy’s head.
Back in Llanfair, Eddy whipped through a couple of back streets, and ended up outside the entrance of St Mary’s Hall, the student residence. The walls of the art college were visible through a stand of leafless trees. He clicked the locks on the car so Kaylan couldn’t get out.
“We need to talk to you in the morning,” Eddy said. “Charge up your phone and don’t even think of not answering it.”
Charlie turned round. “Rico is still missing, and sorry, Kaylan, but you’re what we’ve got. I know you say you don’t remember, but with a good night's sleep, something might come back.”
Kaylan was evidently still sulking, but he nodded. “Sure. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, then looked pointedly at the door. Eddy flipped the release button, and Kaylan got out and disappeared into the building, leaving the car door open behind him.
“Tosser,” said Eddy as Charlie undid his seatbelt and levered himself out of the car to close the back door. He had stiffened up during the drive and had begun to fantasise about a hot shower and a soft bed. But they still had work to do.
“Did you believe any of that?” Eddy asked when Charlie climbed back in.
“He’d have been more convincing if he hadn’t changed his story from Rico is dead to I can’t remember anything. But we’ll ask again in the morning. In the meantime, let’s see what Mags and Patsy have been up to.”
Eddy parked back on the big car park. There was a pay and display machine, but Eddy ignored it. They walked the few hundred yards back to the station. The smell of burned plastic hung in the air by the back door, and Charlie gave himself a moment to wonder if any of his possessions could be saved. A glance at the mangled ruins gave him the answer. Eddy held the door open for Charlie, taking up most of the doorway and forcing Charlie to squeeze past. Eddy moved, his massive thigh brushing Charlie’s arse. Was it deliberate? Charlie couldn’t tell, and he didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about it, because coming from the break room was the unmistakable sound of a woman crying.
10
Define ‘Assault’
