DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (27 page)

Prisons would often have their own interview rooms similar to a police station’s but Shaun Hogan wasn’t a suspect for any crime and they were talking to him to hopefully gain some
background on his mother. Because of that, speaking to him in a more informal environment such as the visiting room, as opposed to an interview room, could perhaps get him to open up a little
more.

The prisoner was wearing a grey sweatshirt and slightly darker tracksuit bottoms. He had short almost shaven dark hair but no other particularly distinguishing features. Jessica knew from
experience you could look at some people and know they had spent time inside. They would have things like tattoos or scars and sometimes even the way they walked made them stand out from the rest
of society. Jessica saw none of those giveaway signs in Shaun Hogan as he was ushered to sit in front of the two detectives, the four prison guards standing by the door again.

‘Are you Shaun Hogan?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘My name is Detective Sergeant Daniel and this is Detective Inspector Cole.’

‘Are you here about my mum?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m not sorry she’s gone . . .’ The prisoner looked at Jessica, not in a threatening way but fixed enough to let her know he meant it.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Do you know she never once came to visit me here?’

‘Is that why you’re not upset?’

Shaun ignored the question again, glancing away towards the bank of windows high up the walls. ‘Have you spoken to Em?’

‘Your sister? Yes we have.’

‘She’s been a few times. She even talked about helping me when I get out.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Yeah, it is. She’s done well since she got away. I guess she told you all about Mum’s
job
.’

‘Yes.’

Jessica didn’t know what she expected to get from the conversation with Shaun that she hadn’t already heard from Emily and Kim, especially as he hadn’t seen his mother for over
two years, but she felt she had to keep prodding him. With a lack of other leads, he was at least someone who might have an insight.

‘Why did you move out here?’ she asked.

Shaun shook his head and then rubbed his forehead with his hand. ‘I just wanted to get away. A few years ago Mum had moved out of our house ’cos she had no money and set up in that
flat. She was always drinking and there was no room anyway. Em was a bit older and moved out straight away. There wasn’t much there for me, so I went too. Some kid I knew from school that I
still knocked about with reckoned there was some building work out here. It’s not like I had anything better to do.’

‘How old were you?’

‘Sixteen. I ended up bunking in this disused pub for a few months. We had a great time; the work was easy and we got paid cash. No one really said anything.’

‘Was that the last time you saw your mother?’

‘Nah, I went back a few times but she was still in that flat with Kim and she had moved on from the drink . . .’

Jessica let his answer hang for a moment. ‘How did you end up in here?’

‘It was my own fault. I’d been to visit Mum earlier in the day and we ended up arguing. I was doing okay then – earning a bit of money and I had my own place out here. It was
nothing special but it was good enough for me. I’d said something about her having to sort herself out for Kim’s sake. I know Emily had been saying it too.’

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know really. When I got back here, I’d gone out for a few drinks and things just . . . happened.’

‘I mean what happened with the argument?’

Shaun looked at Jessica, then away from her again. ‘She blamed me.’

‘For what?’

‘Everything.’

Jessica was clearly confused. She looked at Cole, who also seemed slightly bemused. It was the inspector who spoke next. ‘Why did she blame you?’

Shaun closed his eyes and breathed out deeply. Jessica didn’t know if he was going to say anything but then came a quiet: ‘Because it’s my fault.’

There were now tears in Shaun’s eyes but Jessica felt there was something important still left to be said. ‘Why is it your fault?’

Shaun spoke slowly and didn’t look up from a spot on the table he seemed fixated on. ‘When Dad left, we all held it together pretty well really. It was hard but Mum managed to keep
us all in the house. Then . . . everything fell apart because of me.’

Jessica shifted onto the edge of her seat and leant in towards the table. ‘What did you do?’

Shaun wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked towards her. ‘I can’t tell you.’

‘You can.’

‘I can’t. I’m about to get out. I want to sort things out with Em and have a normal life.’

‘Shaun . . .’ The prisoner looked up at Jessica, meeting her eyes. ‘Someone killed your mother last week and whatever you have to say could be the key thing in finding out who
that was.’

Shaun closed his eyes and breathed out deeply before opening them and staring at Jessica. His eyes narrowed slightly and he said two words softly but clearly. ‘Nigel Collins.’

FIVE YEARS, TEN MONTHS AGO

Shaun may have been one of the oldest but he struggled to keep up with the other three boys. They laughed and whooped as they raced across the patch of wasteland, cluttered with
rocks, scrap metal and open patches of grass. Before he left, Shaun’s dad had told him that this area used to be home to a few factories but they were now long gone. Scott led the way. He was
the youngest but also the fastest, hurdling a displaced paving slab and willing the rest of them on.

Jon was next in line, the oldest of the four but also the quietest. He was the only one not cheering as they raced. He carefully watched his own footing, not wanting to fall and be laughed at by
the others. Jamo followed, energetic and excited, aping Scott’s calls and over-exaggerating the jumps. Shaun was at the back, out-of-breath but desperate not to show it. He copied the shouts
too, not wanting to be left out.

He had struggled to make friends, especially after his dad left. The other kids took the mickey at school and, even though Scott did the same, he didn’t mind Shaun hanging around with
them. Shaun did his best to fit in, doing their dares and stealing chocolate bars from the local shop plus knocking on those old people’s front doors before legging it. There was even a trick
they pulled where Scott lay flat on top of some guy’s porch and knocked on the door from above. The chap kept storming out the front but couldn’t see anyone and was fuming. Shaun felt a
little bad watching from the trees nearby but at least his friends weren’t laughing at him.

The four of them were bonded not by age but by boredom. It didn’t matter what year you were in at school when it came to booting a football around.

In every way imaginable, Scott should have been the kid who followed the others. Outwardly he was quieter, while he was certainly smaller. Most people who saw their group probably thought that
but Jon, Jamo and Shaun knew different; Scott was the cool kid. He was the one with the sharp comebacks and the one who bunked off when it was sunny. He fought their battles for them as he was the
one older kids thought they could pick on first but would end up paying a price for doing so. He was vicious and scary but reassuring at the same time, the type of kid you would rather be friends
with than an enemy of.

The group tore across the concrete land, watching as the older kid they were chasing ran into an abandoned building which Shaun guessed was once part of the factory. Scott had stopped running
and the other three had now caught him. The building was made of huge grey bricks, while a lot of the plaster that would have once covered it lay in dusty piles around the floor. Moss had begun to
cover the lower part of it, the sun bouncing from the white concrete floor, making them squint as they stared ahead. The space the other kid had run through had no actual door, the rotting wooden
frame having splintered at the top.

‘We’ve got him now,’ Scott said. ‘The door at the back is blocked off.’

Shaun looked nervously at Jon next to him, neither of them wanting to say anything.

‘Niiiiiiiiigelllllllll,’ Jamo called loudly. Scott laughed as Shaun and Jon joined in half-heartedly.

Scott walked towards the entrance with the three of them behind him. Jamo was still calling Nigel’s name loudly. Inside the building, the light levels dropped significantly and Shaun found
himself blinking to readjust. Outside it was bright and sunny but the only light inside came through the partially destroyed roof. Patches of the floor were illuminated, piles of rubble flanking
the walls. At first Shaun couldn’t see anyone else in the room. He wondered if there was a second way out, or if they had somehow been mistaken when they thought they saw the older kid run
into this building?

He hoped there was another exit but then saw a silhouette of a figure towards the back of the room crouching behind some of the rubble. He thought he heard a faint whimpering but no one else
reacted. Jamo was still taunting. ‘Niiiiiiiiigelllllllll.’

Shaun wondered if he was the only person who had seen the shadow at the end. He said nothing as the four of them scanned their surroundings. Scott’s screwed-up face snarled as he looked
from corner to corner, his features only half-visible because of the light from the doorway.

‘Anyone see him?’

Shaun said nothing and Scott signalled for he and Jon to head towards the far end, the darker part where Shaun had seen the shape. ‘You two look down there, me and Jamo will check around
here and make sure he doesn’t get back out the door,’ Scott said.

The room was large but seemed so much smaller because of the rubble and wreckage. You could just about make out twisted pieces of metal and plastic that would have been tables at some point.
Where there were holes in the roof, there were also patches of damp visible on the floor below. Shaun could hear the two boys behind them overturning pieces of junk and looking under things. He
heard Scott cursing and making threats. Jamo was still calling but the word was getting longer and longer.

‘Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigellllllllllllllllllllllllllll.’

Shaun found it intimidating and it wasn’t even his name being called. He felt his heart pounding and looked at the shape of Jon next to him. He couldn’t make out his friend’s
features but could almost feel the fear there too.

‘You go that way,’ Shaun said, pointing towards the back left of the building. ‘I’ll go over there.’

He was sending Jon away from the silhouette towards the other corner. Shaun continued to walk towards where he had seen the shadow. He kicked a few random pieces of concrete to keep up the
illusion he was looking and saw another small flash of movement. Nigel was less than ten feet from him. His eyes flicked towards the older boy and he could see the faint outline of a figure behind
a mangled table. He thought he saw the person shiver but said nothing. They either hadn’t seen or hadn’t acknowledged him.

‘See anything, Jon?’ he called.

‘No.’

Shaun could still hear the calls echoing around the room.

‘Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigellllllllllllllllllllllllllll.’

He could definitely hear a slight sobbing coming from the person hiding by the table. Shaun realised he had been holding his breath and stopped to risk another look. This time the faint stream
of light coming through the roof caught the two of them. Shaun looked at Nigel and the panic-stricken elder boy stared directly back.

Shaun tried to motion him to stay calm, to stay hidden where he was because he wasn’t going to say anything but Nigel’s eyes darted from side to side and he leapt up from his
position. The thin boy’s frame charged into Shaun, the pair of them stumbling backwards into a smashed-up cabinet. Shaun stayed still as Nigel clambered to his feet. The noise had alerted the
others but, as Shaun peered across, he could see Jon rooted to the spot.

‘Get him then,’ Scott yelled from the other end but Jon didn’t move and Shaun was on the floor. Nigel ran towards the door. Jamo had been taken by surprise and was still
engulfed in darkness. Shaun could hear him struggling with something in the distance but couldn’t see him. Scott was clambering over some old wreckage but Nigel was sprinting, head down in a
straight line. Through the flashes of light that partially illuminated the room, Shaun saw Nigel’s frame bolting. He was going to make it outside surely?

Suddenly Shaun heard the crunch, everyone must have done. Scott had cut across from his position and rugby-tackled Nigel to the ground feet from the door. The sickening sound of a bone snapping
was instantly drowned out by Nigel’s scream of pain. Shaun pulled himself to his feet and made his way towards the front of the building. He felt Jon close by as Jamo’s laughing drowned
out Nigel’s agony.

Shaun felt sick. As he reached Nigel, he could see the older boy prone on the floor. His once-green T-shirt was covered in dust and ripped by the arm, his jeans bent out at an unnatural angle
covering a leg which must surely have made the sickening crunching noise. The boy looked dazed and was crying. ‘Please . . .’

Scott crouched down next to the boy and punched him hard across the face. ‘Shut. Up,’ he ordered. ‘Stop crying.’

Nigel had his eyes shut, head to one side reeling from the blow. He was trying to catch his breath, trying to stop the tears. ‘Do you know why we chased you, Nigel?’

The boy shook his head and whimpered. ‘No.’

‘You shouldn’t have looked at my girlfriend like that, should you?’

Nigel was shaking his head, desperately holding back the tears. ‘I . . . I . . . wasn’t.’

Scott punched him in the face a second time, the sound echoing. Jamo gave a ‘yeah’. Shaun continued staring at the angle of Nigel’s leg.

‘Don’t lie to me,
freak
.’

Jon spoke. ‘Scott . . .’

Scott turned around sharply, standing rigidly to his full height. He was shorter than Jon but stepped up to within an inch or two of him. ‘What?’

The light from the doorway left them each half in shadow, the only noise a faint whimper coming from Nigel. This was the moment for Shaun to say something too. If he and Jon stuck together, they
could stop this now. He just had to open his mouth and say something . . .