- Well, that's clearly not the most beautiful part of the neighbourhood, DS Barbara Havers muttered.
After Lynley had left she had done several things at the college. First, with the help of Cookson's secretary she had changed the combination of the lock of the Insider's news room to a number only she knew. Nobody would be able to enter the room and tamper with the computers. The she had obtained Michael Kurosawa's address and had found Tim Parker who had confirmed Emma's version: they both had left at 10:45 pm and never returned to the party. Emma had left him at around 4 am. Barbara had then taken the tube to go to the mechanical workshop where she hoped she would find Josh. Josh had started working as a metal turner right after college. Barbara's path had already diverged from Josh's at the time: she was attending a secondary school while Josh was in a technical college not unlike Acton Burrough; still as they lived in the same street they had enough contact for her to know where he had been hired. She wasn't sure he was still working there but she was counting on her star. The workshop was located in a derelict industrial estate that had once counted up to about a dozen companies. Now most of them were closed, either because they had gone bankrupt or they had moved to one of the new industrial concentrations. There were only two firms left in the once animated street. Most of the buildings were abandoned and had fallen into serious disrepair. The broken windows, the tags on the walls, and the weed growing in the yards gave an impression of desolation. Barbara felt like she had been teleported in an old western film to play the part of the lonesome hero walking down the dusty main street of a ghost town while a gang of outlaws hid in the surrounding buildings, holding their Winchester rifles, ready to shot. Only the harmonica tune was missing. A loud metallic sound startled Barbara, her heart skipped a beat. Two shabby, skin-and-bones tomcats came running from the alley on her right, growling. Barbara cursed loudly: "Bloody cats!" She had nothing against cats in general, but not when they were trying to make her have a heart attack. She waited for her pulse to slow back to normal. She could see the sign of the mechanical workshop where Josh worked further down the road. It was a small firm specialized in high value-added automotive parts. It produced small series of complex parts that required good craftsmanship and expertise. Keeping itself to this niche market it had managed to stay afloat. The workshop was in a brick building surrounded by a yard that served as a car park for the workers. A modern annex had been added recently that served as the main entrance hall for the visitors and customers. The finest parts ever produced by the company were exposed in various display cabinets. Barbara was not keen on letting Josh know she was there, which would be the case if she went through the main door. So she walked past the entrance, round the corner of the red-brick building in search of a back door. Luckily two men clad in blue overalls were having a cigarette break near an open door. Barbara walked towards them boldly and entered the workshop as if she were the very owner of the company. Seeing her so confident, or maybe not giving a damn, the two men didn't react. She found herself in a neon-lit workshop, filled with machine-tools and welding booths. She walked casually round the shop floor until she spotted Josh operating a lathe. She strode up to him and patted him on the shoulder.
- Hiya, Josh. What's new?
The man jumped in surprise, he hadn't seen her coming.
- Barb! You're crazy! What the fuck are you doing here? He gripped her elbow and yanked her out of sight behind one of the big metallic pillars supporting the roof.
Barbara freed herself and rubbed her elbow.
- Josh Whickam, that's no way to treat a lady. Nor a police officer. What's wrong? Can't I come and have a nice chat with an old chum of mine?
- Not here! I work here, Barb, I want nothing to do with the Met while I'm here! My boss could become suspicious. I don't want to get into trouble.
- Well, you should have thought about that earlier, Josh. If you hadn't made such a fool of yourself yesterday evening I wouldn't be here today. You treated me like you'd never seen me your whole life. You almost didn't say a word and you disappeared just after the meeting. What was I supposed to make of that, Josh? I'm a copper and you behaved like someone who's done something bad. Now you tell me what I need to know and I leave you in peace.
- Don't you understand? Robbie works here too; I don't want him to know you came to see me.
- Robbie? Sod Robbie! I don't give a damn about Robbie! I'm here for you.
- Did you pass by the welding booths?
- Yeah, I took the rear door, but I don't….
- Fuck! Robbie's a welder. He surely saw you. That's bad, Barb.
- First, with his welding mask on he surely saw sod-all; second, I don't care if he saw me. What's the matter with Robbie anyway? Don't tell me you got involved in one of his schemings.
Josh ran his hand through his hair, wearily. Barbara could see he was pondering the situation. He exhaled a deep breath and said:
- All right, Barb. I'll tell you.
As Barbara reached for her notepad, he stopped her:
- But not now and not here! My place. Tonight.
- Is all the mystery really necessary?
- Take it or leave it.
Barbara considered him. She reckoned Josh was too scared to talk to her in the workshop or anywhere else in the vicinity of Robbie Jones. There was no point insisting.
- That's a deal. Give me your address.
Barbara sneaked out of the workshop having seen neither hide nor hair of Robbie. In the street a vendor had parked his van offering various types of take-aways. Barbara considered briefly buying something for her lunch but the smell of burnt fat disgusted her. Furthermore it wasn't very late; she still had time to go back to New Scotland Yard. Maybe Winston wouldn't have lunched already and they could go together to the cafeteria. Maybe, they could even, by joining their forces, convince Lynley to come with them. When he was alone working on a case, the inspector had the bad habit of skipping lunch. No risk it'll happen to me, Barbara mused. She turned right into a narrow alley that would lead her to the street where the tube station was. All this part of Acton was dead, and Barbara wondered if there was any hope that it would live again. The street was dark, the low sun rays couldn't reach the bottom of the buildings and the cold air nipped her face. She turned up the collar of her jacket and put her hands in her pockets in search of her gloves. At that moment a hand pressed against her mouth and strong arms seized hold of her.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
When he arrived at New Scotland Yard, Lynley went straight to the morgue but the legist told him the identification was done and Mark Follett's parents were already gone with DS Nkata. So Lynley went up to his floor and to his office where Winston Nkata was waiting for him with the Folletts.
- Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley, he said stepping into the room. I'm in charge of the investigation on your son's murder. Mrs. Follett, Mr. Follett, please accept all my condolences.
- Thank you, Inspector, replied Mr. Follett.
He was a man in his seventies, medium-sized, thin. He seemed fit but his hands were deformed by arthritis. Lynley noticed some common features between the father and the son: the form of the nose, the line of the jaw and the chin. Next to him, his wife sat upright, standing on her dignity. She obviously had been crying but had regained her self-control. Lynley found her beautiful.
Unfortunately the interview didn't throw any light on the case. The Folletts didn't know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt their son. He had not told them about his aggression, or about Carrie Mulligan. According to them, Mark led a peaceful life. He enjoyed his life in London, he was happy at work and his relationship with Clare Davenport was becoming serious. He was a happy man, at one with the world. After about thirty minutes, Lynley thanked them and saw them to the lift. Before stepping into the lift, Mrs. Follett turned to the detective and said:
- I trust you, Inspector Lynley. Find the murderer of my son.
In such situation, Lynley was loath to promise more than he might be able to do so he merely replied "I will do everything possible", which was less satisfactory for the relatives of a victim than "I promise you we'll catch whoever did it" but far more honest.
After the parents left, Lynley went to the science laboratory to know if the analysis of Follett's computers was finished. He had not received the expert's report yet and he hoped that by putting some pressure on the lab technician he could expedite the process. It was not a strong hope though as he guessed that the lab experts were used to have all the SIOs [1] breathing down their necks with the same goal in mind. And the truth was that the technician wasn't impressed by Lynley but he told him that the analysis was finished; he had not had the time to type the report yet. As Lynley had expected, the memory card of the camera contained nothing of interest, as did the professional computer. In Follett's personal laptop, the technician had gone through the search history and it confirmed Blake's statement: Follett had consulted various forums and sites dealing with IP tracking. Apart from that there was nothing out of the ordinary: emails from and to relatives and friends, no hidden files, not even an illegal upload. "I've rarely seen contents so boring," was the conclusion of the disappointed technician, which earned him a black look from Lynley and a bitter remark about this being real life and not an episode from CSI.
On his way back to his office he stopped by Nkata's desk to let him know there was nothing in the victim's computers.
- Any news from the phone company?
- No, sir. Barbara's sent them the warrant but we haven't received anything yet.
- Chase them up.
- Right away, said Winston picking up his phone.
Lynley went back to his office to organize his thoughts. He started to write down the interview of Carrie's schoolmates. Havers would complete the report later with her own notes. As he recollected the interview he grew more and more convinced that Michael and Ethan held some of the answers. Ethan had spontaneously designated Michael as part of the Insider staff but that didn't mean much: Ethan was surely aware than Lynley would get his hand on a list of the contributors to the magazine. By voluntarily giving Michael away, Ethan gave the impression of collaborating with the police without actually helping much. And he had cut in on Michael before he could say anything incriminating and had diverted the conversation onto Follett. Yes, Lynley thought, this Ethan is indeed of the utmost interest. However at this stage of the investigation, the inspector couldn't link Ethan to Carrie's rape or to the video and Ethan surely had no intention to make life easier for the police. So in the Action section Lynley wrote as priority #1 to apply more pressure on Michael Kurosawa in order to make the boy talk.
When he was done Lynley gave himself a break to go to the cafeteria on the fourth floor where he decided on a club sandwich and a bottle of water. He was waiting at the till when someone put an apple on his tray. He turned round and found himself face to face with Superintendent Isabelle Ardery.
- You don't eat enough, Thomas. You have to take care of yourself. I need my officers to be fully operational.
- Mens sane in corpore sano.
- If you say so. I'm afraid my Latin is pretty rusty. Or should I say totally nonexistent.
- It means a sound mind in a healthy body.
- That's what I thought. Anyway, tell me you'll eat that apple.
- Sounds like Eve tempting Adam.
- It does, yes, she replied laughing, or like the witch in Snow White but I swear this fruit is totally harmless: no poisoning, no fall from grace.
- A bit late for the latter, isn't it?
- Absolutely not, Thomas. I still hold you in the highest esteem. What's that look on your face? Why are you looking so sad suddenly?
- I just wish you felt as well-disposed towards Havers.
- Where is she by the way?
- Questioning someone in Acton.
- A suspect?
- Not exactly but the man behaved strangely enough to put Havers on his trail.
- And you think her interest is justified?
- She got the scent of something suspicious and I trust her instinct.
- All right. Come and see me this afternoon. I'd like to know what you have found so far. I've a meeting now so let's say 3:00 pm.
- 3:00 pm it is then.
He paid and went back to his office where he chewed at his sandwich absent-mindedly. He set aside the apple. Maybe later…He spent all the afternoon thinking about the case, going once again through the reports, only stopping to go to Ardery's office. He looked for any inconsistency in the witnesses' statements, anything he might have overlooked. At one point he got up to switch the light on and realized it was almost 5:20 pm. Havers should have returned from her interview with Whickam by now. Surprised she hadn't come to report to him he went to her desk. She was nowhere in sight and nobody had seen her. He returned to his office and called Barbara on her mobile. After four tones, she answered her phone. There was some noise in the background and Barbara's speech was slurred.
- Yeah?
- Havers, where are you?
- In hospital.
- Sorry?
- I'm in hospital. Three guys laid into me after I saw Josh.
- My God, Barbara! Are you hurt?
- Some cracked ribs, some bruises, and a cut lip. Been here before, I'll be all right. And the good news is that those bloody bastards spared my Hollywood-star smile. No broken tooth this time.
- Why didn't you call me?
- I was a bit groggy. I called 999. I don't know if it's because I said I was a police officer but they arrived with a police car in tow and some scene of crime guys. There was no point in calling you. There was nothing more you could have done.
- You should have called me anyway.
- So you'd have worried for nothing? I thought it was best to call you when all the exams were finished. Talking about that, I'm waiting for a quack to hand me a prescription for some painkillers and I'm free to go. Honestly I wouldn't be offended if you wanted to come and fetch me.
- Of course. In which hospital are you?
Lynley rushed to the hospital Barbara had indicated. She was in the waiting room, seated on a chair along a wall. She was staring blankly at the other end of the room and didn't see him squat in front of her.
- You called a taxi, ma'am?
She jumped with surprise and met two brown eyes full of anxiety fixed on her. Lynley's smile disappeared when he saw the bruised face of his partner.
- Christ. They didn't pull their punches.
He lifted his hand as if to caress her cheek but thought better of it and merely brushed one stray lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled proudly.
- I didn't pull mine either. I'm sure I punched one of them on the nose and he bled; the crime scene guys will collect the blood and identify this bastard and there's one whose chances to conceive I seriously jeopardized.
- Well done, Barbara. Come on, I'll drive you home.
- No way! We must go to Josh's. He didn't want to talk to me at the workshop on the pretext that Robbie Jones could see us together. He told me to come to his house this evening. I won't turn down such a nice invitation.
- Do you think Josh has something to do with your assault?
- Maybe, I don't know anymore, Barbara said wearily. That's why I want to talk to him as soon as possible. And didn't you say you wanted to see Michael Kurosawa this evening too?
- Kurosawa can wait till tomorrow.
- Sir, don't delay any questioning for me. We both know time is important when working on a murder case.
- This has nothing to do with you, Havers. I just think we will have more impact if we summon him to the Yard. This boy seemed rather nervous this morning; an official setting may convince him to talk.
Barbara looked at him sceptically but he returned her gaze, unruffled. His reasoning was logical and made perfect sense. To tell the truth, he reckoned it was a very good idea. And there was no need to tell Barbara this brilliant idea had come to him on his way to the hospital. No one chooses when a flash of inspiration strikes, right? He just hadn't imagined his stubborn partner would want to question Josh Whickam without delay.
Barbara got up with difficulty, grimacing with pain and Lynley took her arm to help her.
- Are you sure you're fine?
- Yeah, absolutely. They gave me quite a dose of painkillers: I'm as high as a kite!
- Shall I call the Narcotics Squad?
- Don't be such a wet blanket. Besides, I'm in full possession of my faculties. How about we set off?
Lynley reluctantly complied. Barbara guided him through Acton and soon they pulled into the kerb in front of Whickam's house. The inspector stopped the engine and turned to his partner, suddenly serious.
- Barbara, are you all right? he asked with a voice full of concern.
- As much as I can be.
He put his hand on her arm and asked again:
- Are you sure?
She was surprised by the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of his tone.
- Barbara, I'm not speaking as your superior officer but as your friend. I don't know the extent of what you've been through, and if you don't want to talk to me about it, it's fine, I can understand, but I want you to know I'm here.
Barbara realized all at once what Lynley was talking about. She stared wide-eyed at him struck by the sudden revelation.
- No, no, no…Sir, I'm all right. Really. I mean, I'm black and blue and my ribs hurt but that's all. They…er…weren't after my virtue.
He considered her and saw she was telling the truth. Feeling an immense sense of relief, he replied:
- Speaking posh now?
- Bloody painkillers!, she grumbled as she opened her door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Josh's house was a small semi-detached house in a working-class neighbourhood. The area wasn't rich but the houses and gardens were well looked after. There was no gate to Josh's house so they walked up the cemented alley to the door of the house. Lynley noticed the windows frames needed to be replaced but they were painted fresh and spotlessly white curtains preserved the privacy of the inhabitants. Barbara rang the bell. A petite brunette in a striped apron opened the door.
- Yes?
- Mrs Whickam? DI Lynley and DS Havers, New Scotland Yard, we'd like to talk to your husband.
- Josh? But…
She looked scared and Lynley, who had nothing against her, put on his most pleasant smile and added lightly:
- Actually your husband told us to come and see him tonight. He wanted to talk to us about a case we're working on.
- Is that about his teacher's murder?
- That's right. May we come in?
- Well, yes, of course.
She stepped aside and they entered the house. The woman guided them to the main room where Josh was seated on a sofa, watching TV. At his feet, on a carpet, a toddler was playing. The room was clean and tidy.
- Josh? The police is here. They want to talk to you.
Josh turned his head towards them and jumped on his feet when he saw Barbara's face.
- Barb! What the fuck…
- Joshua Whickam! his wife cried out. Don't swear in front of your son! He'll learn this language soon enough.
- Sorry love, but…he pointed Barbara out, this is Barbara Havers. We grew up in the same street; she's an old pal of mine. She was fine this morning. What happened, Barb?
- I hoped you could tell me. I've been assaulted on my way back by three muscle men, not far from where you work. Any idea who it was?
Josh remained silent. His wife came closer to Barbara and gestured toward the table and chairs near the window.
- Why don't you sit down, Sergeant? Do you want something to drink? Tea, maybe?
Barbara hesitated for a second or two but she had not drunk nor eaten anything since the morning and she was incredibly thirsty.
- Thank you. A cup of tea would be most welcome.
- What about you Inspector?
- Yes, please. Thank you Mrs Whickam.
Lynley drew out a chair for Barbara. He then drew out another one and turned to Josh.
- Come and join us, Mr. Whickam.
Lynley's smile was gone and the look in his eyes spoke volumes about his feelings. His tone of voice was calm and polite but it was clear to Josh that he had no choice but to obey. He clearly remembered the scene at the pub and Lynley's attitude. This man was as cold as ice on the outside but a fire burnt inside him. He was like those Icelandic volcanoes, which fiery heart was covered by thick layers of ice and Josh had the feeling Lynley's eruption could be as devastating as theirs.
They waited in silence for Mrs. Whickam to come back with the tea. Josh was keeping an eye on his son but he could feel Lynley's gaze fixed on him. He felt like a hare watched by a bird of prey. Luckily for him, his son relieved some of the tension in the room when he decided to have a closer look at the newcomers. He waddled across the room to Barbara to whom he offered a fire engine.
- For me? Thank you. Can I have an ambulance instead? Or a patrol car? No?
She took the toy and the little boy stretched out his arms to her.
- Oh, I see. You're bribing me so I'll take you on my lap. That's a criminal offence, you know? It can cost us dear. All right, you're too cute, come here.
She leaned forward to lift the child off the ground but stopped abruptly, eyes closed, her mouth open on a silent cry of pain. Her cracked ribs were protesting vehemently. Lynley saw the pain on her face and his heart ached. He lifted the child and put him gently on Barbara's knees.
- Here you are. And be nice to Barbara. She's hurt, she must be treated gently.
But the child was already busy playing with his toy and didn't pay much attention to the detective.
- What's his name, asked Barbara.
Josh looked embarrassed.
- Tony.
- Tony?, Barbara repeated, surprised.
- Well, Anthony but everybody call him Tony.
- That's a beautiful name. She put a light kiss on the toddler's hair and whispered: May life be nicer to you than it's been to my Tony.
Josh's wife came back holding a tray with cups, a steaming teapot, sugar, milk and a plate of home-made ginger cookies. Then, pretexting she had to give her son a bath, she left the room with the child.
- Well now, Barbara said, tell us what you couldn't tell me this morning, Josh. What are you mixed up in?
Josh was taking his time to answer, sipping his tea slowly.
- Enough now, Mr Whickam, Lynley thundered. Barbara stared at him, mystified. Lynley rarely lost his temper but he was visibly cross now. We're doing you a favor by coming to your home but if you don't speak we can go to the Yard. Maybe you'll be more loquacious in an interview room.
- You've no right to do that. I did nothing wrong.
- I've every right to do that. First you're perverting the course of justice by withholding information related to a major crime investigation, and second I've every reason to believe you're involved in the assault on DS Havers.
- No! I've nothing to do with that!
- But you know who did it.
Josh again retreated into silence.
- All right. Get up, we're going to the Yard where I swear I'll coop you up until you tell us the truth, Mr. Whickam.
- Leave me alone! I've nothing to tell you.
- Then why did you ask DS Havers to come here tonight? Maybe you thought she wouldn't come after what your accomplices would have done to her?
- No, absolutely no! Barb, I'd never hurt you! Tell him.
- Tell him what, Josh? Since yesterday your conduct is suspicious to say the least. I gave you the benefit of the doubt but I can't anymore.
- You know me. We're friends.
- That was a long time ago, Josh. Now, I'm a copper and you're a suspect, so stop beating around the bush and tell me what monkey business you're in. It's something to do with Robbie, hasn't it?
Josh bowed his head but kept mum. Suddenly Lynley grabbed the man by his chin, and forced him to look at Barbara, at her eyelid so swollen it closed completely her eye, at her bruised cheeks, at the dressing on her lip.
- Look at her, Whickam! See what the men you're covering up did to her! And I don't mention what you can't see. How dare you say you're her friend? If you were her friend, you'd be furious, you'd want to catch the bastards who hurt her and beat the living daylights out of them till they cry for mercy. But all you're doing is submit to them. You're not Barbara's friend, Whickam. Maybe you used to be, but you're not anymore. I tell you, Whickam, you're a coward, that's what you are, a bloody coward.
- I've a family!, Josh yelped, rubbing his chin Lynley had let go. Maybe you're right, maybe I'm coward but I'm a husband and a father too. If they can do this to a police officer, they won't hesitate to attack my family. I'm sorry, Barb. I'm so sorry.
- Why did you tell me you'd explain everything to me tonight then?
- …
- Josh?
- I've nothing to do with Mr. Follett's murder, I swear.
- So what did you want to talk to me about? This morning you were afraid of Robbie. I suppose you're even more afraid of him now that you see the state I'm in. 'Cos, it's Robbie who attacked me, right?
- I've no proof of that but, yes, I think he did it.
- But why? We never got on well, Robbie and I, but that's not a reason for beating me to a pulp. Unless he doesn't want me to talk to you. Which leads us back to our starting point: what are you hiding, Josh?
Josh looked at her, so strong, so determined to find the truth whatever the cost. Then he turned his gaze to Lynley. He was intrigued by the man and a bit afraid of him. Visibly the assault on his partner had infuriated him, and Josh didn't want to be at the wrong end of his rage. It dawned on him that if anyone could stand up to Robbie Jones and Co., it was these two people in front of him.
- Robbie attacked Mr. Follett about a week before his death.
- At last, sighted Lynley.
- Yesterday evening, someone spoke about a gang of fraudsters that's active in the area, remember Barb? They employ a bunch of muscle men to coerce their victims into giving them their money when they are reluctant to do so. Robbie leads the pack. And as Follett was becoming more and more involved in the raise-awareness campaign, Robbie and two other lads attacked him.
- How do you know it was Jones?, asked Lynley.
- 'Cos he told me. He prided himself upon it. He knew I was one of Follett's adult students. I think he didn't like the idea I was getting more educated.
- Just a question, Josh, Barbara cut in. How do you do at work? You have to read what's on the drawings, and on the digital control of the lathe.
- I'm not completely illiterate, Barb. I can read the drawings and operate the lathe, I know all the controls by heart, but reading a long text or an article in the newspaper, writing a letter, it's difficult for me.
- Why didn't you tell us about Jones earlier, Mr. Whickam?
- I wanted to protect my family. Are you a father, Inspector?
- We're not talking about me, Lynley replied icily.
-When my son was born I realized I'd do anything to protect him. It was a no-brainer; he was so small, so fragile. It really changes a man, Inspector. Before, I cared mainly for muggins but now my whole world revolves around him. I want the best for him, you understand?
Barbara was fuming. She wanted to shout to Josh to shut up but that would be misplaced. She peeked at Lynley out of the corner of her eye: he was impassive. If he could stay calm while the other man detailed him the joy of fatherhood, she had no right to intervene. Out of frustration she reached for the plate of cookies and took it out on them. She had no idea how Lynley could seemed so detached when he was undoubtedly bleeding inside.
- What sort of man wouldn't want the best for his child, Mr. Whickam?, the inspector replied in a neutral tone.
- I decided he would be proud of me. That's why I started attending the adult classes; so that he won't be ashamed of me when he's at school.
- How could he be proud of you when you protected a criminal?
- Robbie didn't kill Follett. That's why I didn't tell you in the first place.
- How can you be so sure?
- He was really pissed off when he learnt about the murder. He said it was bad for business. I think he was afraid the police might find out about his attack on Follett.
- Why didn't you tell me all this when we met at the Community Center?
- I needed some time to think about it, Barb. It's a difficult situation I'm in: I'm afraid of what Robbie can do to my family but at the same time I'm tired of keeping my mouth shut. This bugger needs to be put behind bars. When you came to the Community Center and I realized you were working on Follett's murder, I thought that maybe the time was ripe for speaking. I was rather impressed by the way you dealt with Robbie in the pub, Inspector; I wish I had the guts to stand up to him the way you did. I talked to Mary, my wife, last night about telling you everything I know and she said the decision was mine but she'd support it anyway. I made up my mind this morning when Barb came to the workshop.
- You said you weren't sure Robbie attacked me. He didn't boast about it this time?
- We're not on the same shift. I work all day this week while Robbie leaves by midday. I didn't see him after you left. Maybe he'll tell me tomorrow.
Lynley and Havers exchanged a glance and knew they had the same idea.
- Mr. Whickam should that arise, we'd want you to wear a bug.
- What? Me, spying on Robbie?
- We've got nothing against Jones at the moment. It's your word against his. But if we can have a record of Jones saying he assaulted Sergeant Havers, we'll nail him.
- I'm not sure, Josh replied hesitantly. Robbie will know I put the finger on him. And then what'll happen to me and my family. Will the police protect us?
- If we can secure a conviction for the assault on a police officer, Jones will spend many years in jail. And I'm not yet mentioning the aggression of Follett, and his involvement in the fraud. You did the right thing by telling us about Jones but your statement will be useless if we can't find any proof of wrongdoing. You can't stop here, Mr. Whickam, you have to see it through and make sure Robbie Jones pays for what he did. That's the only way you'll get rid of the presence of Jones in your life. He won't be a threat to your family any longer.
Josh got up and went to the other side of the room where he started picking up the toys scattered on the rug, absent-mindedly. Lynley and Barbara watched him without saying a word, hoping that he would come to the right decision. If Josh persisted in his refusal to wear a bug, they would have to rely on whatever the crime of scene specialists had found where Barbara had been assaulted. But Josh was coming back to the table, his decision made.
- OK, I'll do it. For my son.
[1] SIO: Senior Investigative Officer