It's Now or Never (24 page)

‘Here he is, Inspector,' said Chris's father.

‘I'm … I'm just … just going to the … the bathroom,' stammered Nick.

‘Then you go, lad,' said the inspector. ‘We'll wait for you. We just want a few words. Nothing for you to worry about.'

Nick managed to drag himself upstairs and into the bathroom. He lingered as long as he could, not wanting to face the plain-clothes policemen downstairs. No doubt he would have to answer questions again about finding his father's body but guessed he wouldn't be able to get out of it. When he came out of the bathroom, he would have liked to have crept into Chris's bedroom but it was almost midnight and he didn't want to disturb him if he'd fallen asleep.

‘Nick, are you all right?' called Chris's mother in a low voice.

‘I'm coming!'

He went downstairs, holding on to the banister all the way.

Chris's mother placed her arm around his shoulders and ushered him into the lounge where the younger of the two men sat on a straight-backed chair, whilst the older one was occupying an armchair.

Nick sat on the sofa and was handed a mug of cocoa. He felt cold and warmed his hands on the mug and took a mouthful of the sweet chocolatey drink.

‘I'm Detective Sergeant Walker,' said the younger man. ‘So, Nick, do you feel up to answering a few questions?'

‘I told the bobby everything earlier,' muttered Nick.

‘We know that but we'd like to hear you tell us for ourselves,' said Sam.

Nick stared at the detective who had removed his trilby, revealing a mop of thick fair hair. He supposed women would think him good looking. He didn't wear glasses and his eyes were brown. Nick felt as if they could see right inside him. ‘I haven't done anything wrong,' he blurted out.

‘We're not accusing you of anything, Nick,' said Sam. ‘Tell us about your day?'

The question surprised him and he did not immediately answer but sipped the cocoa before saying, ‘I helped Dad most of the day in the shop, except for when I went shopping. I called in at the butcher's, the greengrocer's and the bakery after lunch. We were busier in the morning because a lot of men do jobs about the house and in the garden over the Easter weekend, so they were coming in for stuff and Dad was pleased that we were so busy.' He gulped.

‘Take your time, lad,' said the inspector.

Nick nodded and drank some more cocoa before continuing. ‘Then late afternoon Dad told me I could go out for a few hours, have some fresh air and buy myself a treat for working so hard. He gave me a whole pound in loose change because he said I was too old for an Easter egg.' A muscle in his throat convulsed. ‘I–I was supposed to be back at seven o'clock to cook our evening meal but … but I forgot the time. I went to Newsham Park with Chris. We hired a rowing boat, then–then we were hungry, so we bought chips. After that we went into town to the Tatler to watch the cartoons. I know I should have come home earlier but Dad … Dad had told me to enjoy myself.'

‘So what time did you get home?' asked Sam.

Nick turned his head to look at him. ‘Not until after eight o'clock and that was when …' His voice trailed off and the colour ebbed from his cheeks.

There was a silence.

‘Would you rather we left the rest until morning, Nick?' asked Sam, watching the boy struggle to regain his composure. He remembered how close to tears he had been after his mother died.

‘It'll be Easter Sunday tomorrow,' said Nick. ‘Dad and I were … were going to put flowers on Mum's grave.' He swallowed.

‘You must miss your mother,' said the inspector.

Of course he bloody does
, thought Sam.
Poor kid!

‘Nothing's been the same since she died,' said Nick, putting down the mug and bending one of his fingers back and forward in an odd fashion. ‘Now Dad's gone it's going to be different again.'

‘Life changes all the time, son,' said Sam gently. ‘It's the way things are.'

‘It shouldn't be! I wanted it to be the same – the three of us forever!' cried Nick wildly.

‘Don't we all wish we could make time stand still,' said Chris's mother, who had stayed at the inspector's suggestion. She patted Nick's shoulder and he calmed down.

‘Are you OK to carry on?' asked Sam.

Nick nodded. ‘I came the back way because the shop door was locked and the blinds down. The yard door was open. I thought that was odd and then … then when I went up the yard I realized the back door had been forced. The door jamb was splintered and there were bits of wood on the step and paving outside.' He frowned. ‘That's odd!'

Sam stared at him intently. ‘What was odd?'

‘If it had been chiselled from outside it would have been damaged differently.' He stared at Sam. ‘It could be that Dad let someone into the shop earlier and they tried to make it look like …' His voice trailed off.

‘That is a possibility,' said Sam. ‘Carry on, Nick.'

‘I didn't immediately go into the shop because I thought the burglars might still be around, so I listened for a bit and when I couldn't hear any movement, I went to investigate …' Nick's voice cracked and he blinked back tears.

‘Take it easy, lad,' said the inspector.

Nick breathed deeply and then told them how he had found his father's body. ‘I … I … could make out that the shop was in a mess and then I saw Dad, lying across the counter. There was a … a chisel sticking out of his back. I wanted to tidy up. Dad hated mess. Then I thought I should dial 999 and not touch anything.'

‘So you didn't touch the till?' asked Sam.

‘You mean did I check if there was any money in the drawer?' He frowned. ‘I didn't have to because the drawer was open and I could see there was no money in it.' Nick fiddled with his finger again, bending it backwards and forwards.

Sam watched him, fascinated. ‘You're double-jointed, aren't you, Nick?'

The youth didn't appear to hear him, saying only, ‘I knew there wouldn't be any money there. I'd already worked out that a rotten murdering swine had broken in and robbed us and killed Dad!' His eyes were suddenly wet and he wiped them with the back of his hand.

‘I think the boy's had enough,' said Chris's mother hesitantly. ‘He must be exhausted.'

The inspector nodded. ‘Can he stay here until we sort matters out for him?'

She nodded.

Sam stood up and he and the inspector thanked her and Nick and left. Sam felt wide-awake despite the hour. What a day it had been! A wonderful one for his sister and her new husband but a lousy one for the victim and his orphaned son. A bright lad who noticed things. Not everyone would have spotted that the door had been made to look as if it had been forced. Whoever had done this had gained free access to the shop. Posing as a last-minute customer perhaps? Sam hoped they'd catch the bugger who'd done this soon.

As he sat in the police car his mind went back over his day. It had been a peculiar day what with the wedding and then a murder. Interesting and fun meeting up with Lynne Donegan and Lenny Colman. Who'd have ever thought he'd have ended up owning a coffee bar? He had exchanged a few words with Dorothy and Lenny on his way out, explaining that there had been a murder. Lenny had said it had come as no surprise to him that Sam had joined the police force or that Dorothy had become an actress as she had always been good at pretending to be someone else – a comment which had surprised Sam, causing him to wonder just how well the two had known each other when they were kids.

‘So, have you caught your murderer yet?' asked Dorothy, hoping to persuade Sam that she was really interested in his work.

It was one o'clock on Wednesday afternoon and they had little time to spend together. Dorothy had phoned the Walker household earlier that day to inform Sam that she had to leave Liverpool that evening after receiving a phone call from the film company. She had been fortunate to be able to speak to him. After the wedding, he had worked most of Easter Sunday and the bank holiday and ever since. Apparently there had been another break-in yesterday.

‘We've arrested a couple of youths,' said Sam, opening the vestibule door of the hotel for her to go out. ‘One of the neighbours noticed something suspicious when he was adjusting his television aerial and so had his wife phone the police straightaway.'

‘So have they confessed?' asked Dorothy.

Sam shook his head. ‘They completely deny having anything to do with the break-in and murder on Saturday and I believe them.'

‘Why?' she asked, as they stood on the pavement.

‘They don't seem the sort. I think they're new to the game. One was full of bluster but it was obvious that underneath he was terrified at being caught and about what his parents would say. The other admitted straightaway that it was his first time when I mentioned the other break-ins.'

‘The son of the murdered man, what's happened to him?' asked Dorothy.

‘His uncle came and took him back to his house in Flintshire,' murmured Sam, frowning.

‘What's the frown for? Thinking it's a bit of a way to go if you have to question either of them again?'

‘Something like that,' said Sam, although he was not thinking that at all but of Nick Rogers' expression when he saw his uncle. Despite Dennis Rogers' show of affection, Sam had sensed there was no love lost between the two. The couple who had been looking after Nick had been willing to have him continue living with them, but the uncle had been adamant that the boy should go with him as he was his legal guardian.

Sam changed the subject. ‘What d'you want to eat? Chinese?'

‘That's fine with me.'

She linked her arm through his and they crossed the cobbled road and took a short cut through into Renshaw Street where there was a Chinese restaurant not far from Sam's favourite bookshop. It was not until they were seated at a table and a waiter had taken their order that Dorothy said, ‘So what was all that about, you dancing with the dressmaker in that peculiar way?'

Sam smiled faintly. ‘I didn't know you saw us.'

Dorothy rested her elbows on the table and laced her hands together. ‘I didn't but someone told me about it.'

‘Who told you?'

‘Hester's friend Wendy. I don't think she likes me.'

‘You're imagining it.'

‘No, I'm not,' she said crossly. ‘Hester's told me that she's always had a soft spot for you. Thinks you're the bee's knees and you do seem to be putting yourself out for Lynne Donegan. What did you talk about?'

Sam's smile vanished. ‘We scarcely spoke. I danced with Lynne in
that peculiar way
as you point out because it saved me from getting my toes trodden on. I think she enjoyed herself. I forgot to ask whether you gave Lenny your autograph?'

‘He asked but I forgot because after he apologized for upsetting me, we got talking about the old street and when we were kids. I asked him about Lynne Donegan but he said he'd only just met her.'

‘Betty Booth introduced them.'

‘I know that now! It was a relief, I must admit,' she murmured absently, taking out her cigarette case and putting a cigarette between her painted lips without offering him one.

‘Why was it a relief?' asked Sam.

His question seemed to fluster her because she dropped her cigarette. ‘Damn!' she exclaimed, bending to pick it up. ‘I'm all fingers and thumbs this afternoon.'

‘Excitement, I suppose,' drawled Sam, lighting her cigarette for her from his pocket lighter. ‘Soon you'll be away from Liverpool and enjoying doing what you like best.'

‘It's my job, Sam.' Her hand trembled slightly as she put away her cigarette case. ‘The money's good and I've got to seize my chances while I can.' She smoked jerkily. ‘Did she mention that I volunteered to go and visit her grandmother to make up for my rudeness?'

‘Who?'

‘Lynne Donegan, of course!'

‘No, I told you we hardly spoke.'

‘I'm surprised. I thought the pair of you might have had lots to talk about. You were so friendly with her in the church.'

Sam tapped his fingers on the tablecloth. ‘I was being polite. She was all on her own. I thought you might have been kind to her.'

Dorothy sighed. ‘So you didn't talk about me?'

‘You mean because you're famous?'

Dorothy flushed. ‘I didn't mean that.'

‘So what did you mean?' asked Sam. ‘You've got me wondering what this is all about.'

She reached for the ashtray on the table and stubbed out her cigarette and sighed heavily, thinking she would have been better keeping quiet about him dancing with Lynne. She should have had more sense because if Lynne had said anything, he would have asked her straight out if it was true. She only knew that the other woman presented her with a threat and she did not enjoy the feeling of dread that came over her just thinking about her.

‘What's the big sigh for?' said Sam with obvious patience. ‘I can't believe you're jealous of her.'

Dorothy sat up straight. ‘I'm not jealous of her and that's the truth. I don't envy the life she leads. I like my life!'

‘As it is, I suppose. You doing what you want and having me on a string,' said Sam grimly.

‘You had your mind set on buying a car before Christmas and that's what you did!' Dorothy flung the words at him.

‘I'd have bought you an engagement ring and set a date for our wedding but you didn't want that. Perhaps we should call it a day,' muttered Sam. ‘You could be free to do whatever you wanted then and so could I.'

His words scared her because although she'd imagined what it would be like to be completely free of him, she didn't want to let him go. ‘I can't believe you said that just because I mentioned you dancing in that peculiar way with our little dressmaker.'