Hold My Hand: The addictive new crime thriller that you won’t be able to put down in 2018. M.J. Ford
Privately schooled, she’d have bet. Face like the member of a boy-band she couldn’t recall the name of – handsome, square-jawed and unblemished. These weren’t your usual townie delinquents. As a girl, Jo would have found them intimidating. Oddly, despite her age, part of her still did.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Art.’
Was he being difficult on purpose? ‘Your full name.’
‘Arthur Price.’
‘Tell me exactly what happened, Arthur.’
‘I’ve already told three of you,’ said the boy. ‘Shouldn’t you be out looking for him?’
‘You haven’t told me.’
The boy looked at her, a look she’d seen a thousand times, and from kids even younger than this one. Contempt.
‘We went over the bridge, me and Ny.’
‘Why?’
‘Why not?’
Jo was looking at him, but she could feel the others were suddenly more alert.
‘Okay, Art. And then what happened?’
The boy shrugged. ‘This guy comes up, dressed in a mask. He asks us for a fag. I say no. He hits me, and then pulls a knife. He tells Niall to come with him.’
‘And you didn’t know him? Never met him before?’
Art shook his head.
‘You seem very sure. Skunk’s terrible for the memory, you know.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well, you all saw him, right? That’s what you told my colleague. Did you all go over the bridge?’
Art blushed. ‘Who said that?’
Jo smiled. ‘Listen, Art. All of you. Your friend’s gone missing, and if you’re telling even half the truth, he could be in danger.’ She sat on the table and focused on the girl who’d finally stopped crying. ‘If there’s more to this, now is the time to let us know. We don’t care what you were doing—’
‘We weren’t doing anything,’ said Art.
‘So how come it took you over an hour to call us?’
They shot furtive glances at one another, but it was Art who spoke up. ‘We weren’t doing anything.’
‘And we don’t care,’ repeated Jo. ‘But it sounds like Niall’s in a lot of trouble at the moment. I think you know more about this clown than you’re letting on.’
The crying girl caught her eye and looked away quickly.
‘If Niall ends up being hurt, and we find that you’ve lied to us now, it could be worse for you. Isn’t that right, guv?’
Stratton, his arms folded, nodded.
The kids were all quiet.
‘Okay, gang,’ said Jo, standing up. ‘We’ll need numbers for all your parents or guardians. They’ll be picking you up from the station and you’ll all be cautioned for possession of a Class C drug—’
‘No!’ said the boy sandwiched between the girls. ‘You can’t!’
‘Doing my job,’ said Jo. She took out a notebook, and pen. ‘You first.’
‘Please, don’t!’ said the tear-streaked English rose. ‘Art, just tell her!’
‘Shut the fuck up, Eve.’
‘Tell her or I will.’
Art was stony-faced.
Jo reached out and touched Eve’s hand. Cold fingers, chipped aquamarine nails.‘Help us,’ she said, ‘so we can help Niall.’
Eve sniffed. ‘He said he had some pills,’ she said quietly.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
‘The man in the mask?’ interrupted Stratton.
Eve nodded. ‘Niall and Art went with him.’
Art was shaking his head, but Jo stood up and walked across the room towards him. He flinched back in the chair.
‘This really is your last chance,’ said Jo. ‘Tell me exactly what happened, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice as well, and it’ll be a lot more than a slap on the wrists.’
Art’s eyes were everywhere but on her. ‘He took us round a boatyard. Said the stuff was in his car.’
‘You saw his car?’
‘No. I was on the ground.’
‘But you saw him take Niall away?’
Art nodded, his breathing a little panicked. ‘He had a knife, a little one, under Niall’s neck. They just walked off.’
Jo let it sink in. It didn’t make a lot of sense to her.
‘Did you try to steal something from him – take his pills without paying?’
Art shook his head.
‘Did he take your money?’
‘Niall had it,’ said Art. ‘In his sock.’
A knock on the door, and Carrick stuck his head in. ‘Parents are on the way to the station,’ he said. ‘Ten minutes out.’
Stratton picked up his coat from the back of the chair and Jo went with him to the door. Outside, they spoke in low voices.
‘Andy, go back to the station. I’ll stay here and co-ordinate. Jo, good work in there. See if you can get anything else out of them. Anything relevant, keep in touch.’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Carrick.
‘Sure thing,’ said Jo.
Carrick stalked off towards the exit, past the snaking queue of cars. The vehicle searches would take hours.
‘First impressions?’ asked Stratton.
‘Drug deal went south,’ said Jo. ‘They know the perp, and they owe money. They didn’t call the police straight away because they were scared. Can you dig around and find out who might be dealing here?’
‘I’ll get Heidi Tan on it,’ said Stratton. ‘That’s her world. Can you stick around? Till this is done, we could do with all hands on deck.’
Jo wondered what she could really do. She had the Thompson gang intelligence to sift through back in Bath. Plus, she wanted to be close to the Dylan Jones investigation, even if not formally involved, and she was sure this wasn’t connected, despite the surface similarity.
‘Not sure what my gaffer will say,’ she said.
‘It’s Rob Bridges, right? Let me talk to him – we got some history.’
‘Yes, sir. I might take a look at the boatyard, if that’s all right? Take the kid with me?’
‘Go ahead.’
Stratton went back towards the main gates and Jo put her head back in the door of the office.
‘Can I borrow Art?’ she asked the paramedic.
‘He’s taken a knock,’ replied the young man, slightly disdainfully. ‘We can’t rule out—’
‘Up you get,’ said Jo, beckoning Art over. ‘I need you to go over exactly what happened.’
Art pushed himself to his feet and followed her.
They crossed the site towards the river and the bridge. Jo flicked on her pocket torch.
‘Have you known Niall long?’ said Jo,