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Dylan scrambled into bed and pulled the duvet up to his chin, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. Charlie tiptoed out of the room, leaving Dylan to his mother’s ministrations. Dylan’s dad was at the bottom of the stairs looking anxious.
“Is Dylan OK?”
“He’s working hard on going to sleep on the promise of a ride in a police car,” Charlie said. “But he saw what happened. I told him we’d catch the man who attacked Mags, and thanks to what he saw, I’ve got a good idea who it was. Are you related to Mags?”
Dylan’s dad shook his head. “Honorary aunty. Is she OK?”
“He cut her arm, but I don’t think it’s serious. I think the hospital trip is about reassurance as much as anything wrong. She was protesting all the way.”
Charlie left a card and asked if he could return to see Dylan again. “And I’m dead serious about the police car thing, if you think he’d enjoy it.”
Dylan’s dad laughed. “Only if I can come too.”
“Deal,” said Charlie.
21
Gate Street blues
Tuesday 10.30pm
Eddy and Patsy were conferring by the police car when Charlie left Dylan’s house. Eddy was clutching a handful of evidence bags.
“Sarge,” Eddy said, holding up the bags. “Balaclava, gloves, knife. All in a restaurant bin. Worth taking a look for fingerprints on the lid, I reckon. I’ve taped it all up and put a sticker on it.”
Charlie grinned. “Result. I’ve got a witness. A good one, if young, and I’ve also got an idea who did this. Who do we know who has bright blond hair, and an interest in making us think the flasher is still around?”
The other two looked blank.
“What about Harrington-Bowen? He’s been sheltering Gwilym, and he fits the description. Gwilym said he thought his uncle knew about his activities with the knife and the mobile phone videos. I wonder if it was him following women police officers around… spreading confusion is his favourite thing.”
“Could be,” Patsy said. “But surely Mags would have recognised him?”
“He stepped out from behind her with his face and hair covered and he didn’t speak. He struck her with a knife and knocked her over. Whatever she says, she must have been terrified. We often don’t recognise people out of context, and this was as out of context as it gets. But we need to ask her. Then we need a picture of Harrington-Bowen to show our witness, and we need to fingerprint the bin and get all that lot off to the lab for DNA.”
“One more thing,” Patsy said. “Under the wall there it's thick with leaf mould and mud. There are footprints, though not clear ones, but anyone who stood there for long is going to have that stuff all over their shoes.”
“Did you get a sample?” Charlie asked.
Patsy gave him a withering look.
“Of course you did,” Charlie said. “We need his clothes and his shoes. Tonight, before he washes them. And in an ideal world, his DNA. But we’ve got no grounds to insist. If we try to persuade him and he says no, then we’ve warned him. If we wait for more evidence and a warrant, he can clean up.”
Eddy waved one of his evidence bags. “I don’t believe anyone can wear a balaclava without leaving DNA on it. He was stupid to throw it away. I think we can wait.”
Charlie nodded. At the very least there would be hair on the inside of the hat, and almost certainly saliva. Possibly Mags’ own saliva, or even blood. There might be fingerprints on the bin. They were starting to make progress.
“We’ll start again in the morning,” he said. “Tomorrow’s probably our last day without a big squad of Harrington-Bowen’s friends arriving to take over, so we need to nail him. That’s going to be easier after a night’s sleep. We’ve caught the flasher, and the arsonist, so getting the murderer and whoever’s behind the fraud is all in a day’s work for us.” Especially as Charlie was now confident that they were the same person, and he knew who it was.
22
Unexpected visitor
Tuesday 11.15pm
How Charlie found his way back to Aunty Dilys’s he didn’t know. Today seemed to have lasted at least a week. He came close to tripping more than once because his feet felt weighted with lead. A shower, he thought, and then lots and lots of wonderful sleep. So, he wasn’t pleased to hear his name called as he stepped through the front door. A familiar figure appeared in the hallway, and Charlie’s heart lifted.
“Tom?” Charlie asked.
