LOST SOULS. Neil White
but there was little warmth in it.
Sam realised then that he had no option. He had to follow his client into the police station. It’s what he did. That had always been his choice.
Harry and Jimmy stood at the office window and watched Sam walk towards the police station with Luke. When they went out of view, the men didn’t speak. Jimmy tugged at his shirt cuffs and turned away. When he sat down, he crossed his legs and waited for Harry to join him. He watched Harry as he went back to his desk. Jimmy’s head was still but his eyes tracked Harry’s movement.
Harry sat down and swallowed.
‘Can we trust Sam?’ asked Jimmy.
Harry nodded slowly. ‘He came from the gutter, so he knows how far the drop is. He won’t want to go back.’
Jimmy scowled. ‘It’s even further for us, Harry, so you’d better be right, for your own sake.’
Harry didn’t respond. He looked down at his desk and clasped his hands together. He didn’t look up again until Jimmy had left the room.
Laura looked through the glass in the waiting-room door. Egan was behind her.
‘Is that him?’ she asked, nodding towards the lanky kid in the bad suit. He had someone with him. A taller man in a suit. Short hair, flashes of grey around the temples. ‘Jimmy King’s boy?’
Egan nodded. ‘That’d be my guess.’ He sounded terse, his plan to covertly observe Luke King thrown away by the unexpected visit. The boy was either playing a dangerous game, or he was innocent. Egan pointed through the glass. ‘And he’s brought his lawyer. Sam Nixon’s not here to carry his sandwiches.’
‘Is Nixon any good?’
Egan smiled. ‘None of them is good. They’re just different shades of shifty.’
Laura looked back through the glass. She knew that most police officers didn’t like lawyers, but she knew something else as well: that when they got into trouble themselves, drink driving or with expenses fiddles, they always went to the trickiest defence lawyers in town.
As Laura looked through the glass, she put Eric Randle to the back of her mind. He had once been arrested for murder, but not convicted. And the scene in the waiting room now made the whole picture look rather different.
‘Maybe it’s not all bad,’ said Laura. ‘After all, not many witnesses come to see the police with a brief. But why come at all? And how did he know?’
Egan’s lips twitched at that. ‘I don’t know, but if there’s a leak, I’ll find it.’
Laura went to press the button to release the security lock, but stopped when she felt Egan’s hand over hers.
‘Let’s make him sweat for a while first,’ he said. He left his hand there.
Laura pulled her hand away, and she saw that Egan was smiling. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Saved by the bell. As she brought it out, she saw it was a message from Jack. ‘Is Luke King there anything to do with you?’
She shook her head and sighed. He didn’t miss a trick.
Sam felt edgy as he waited in the police station. He sat on an old orange seat, hard plastic bolted to a hard tiled floor, and he shifted about as he tried to get comfortable. A bored desk assistant trapped behind glass took details of driving documents as people brought them in. Sam watched her, just to avoid Luke’s conversation. He had been told too much already.
Sam knew he had to get Luke out of the police station, but Luke didn’t seem interested in that. He hadn’t said anything since the confession. Instead, Luke sat silently, the tapping of his foot on the floor the only noise. It sounded nervous, but whenever Sam looked across, the boy looked calm, almost happy.
Sam had told him only one thing: say nothing.
Sam turned around sharply when he heard the door open. It was DI Egan. He looked as he always did, quietly confident. There was an officer behind him he hadn’t met before. A woman, tall, attractive, with shoulder-length dark hair and dimples. Sam hoped that she might discourage Egan from playing games.
Egan strode towards Luke, businesslike, trying to cut Sam out. Sam stepped in front of him.
‘Good morning, Mr Egan.’ Sam drew himself up to his full six feet so that he looked down on Egan. He sensed the other cop standing back.
‘Mr Nixon, it is so good of your client to come down and help us.’ Egan said it with his top lip curled, as if Sam had just pissed on his shoes. ‘We need to eliminate him from an inquiry.’
Sam sensed the unspoken words: Why does he need a lawyer if he’s innocent?
‘Which inquiry?’
‘That doesn’t involve you at this stage. Mr King isn’t under arrest.’
Sam turned round to look at Luke, just to gauge his mood. Luke’s eyes betrayed no emotion. They were cold, precise.
‘If you want to leave, you can,’ Sam said to him. It was a cue, but Sam wasn’t sure that Luke understood it: leave now, while you still have the chance.
‘You do know why your client is here, don’t you?’ said Egan from behind Sam, sounding hostile.
Sam turned back around. ‘You tell me all about it.’
Egan sighed, already tired of the game. ‘We would have come for him anyway. We think young Mr King might have some information in relation to a murder investigation. We were hoping he would help us, so we can eliminate him from our inquiry.’
Sam leaned into Egan, as if to whisper. Egan leaned in too, couldn’t stop himself. Sam spoke quietly, almost a hiss, his eyes wide in mock-excitement. ‘Did you say a murder?’
Sam saw the female officer’s mouth flick upwards in a smile, but she stopped herself when Egan stepped back, his anger flushing its way up his cheeks.
‘Don’t try to be funny, Mr Nixon.’
‘There is nothing funny about being linked with a murder,’ said Sam. ‘Unless you can assure me that my client is not under suspicion, he does not want to speak to you.’
Egan breathed through his nose, his lips twitching, saying nothing. Laura intervened.
‘We’ve received information that your client was nearby,’ she said, and she flashed a quick smile at Luke, disarming, friendly. ‘He might have seen something that could help us. He could be a vital witness.’
Smart answer, thought Sam. Egan looked angry, like he had lost some ground.
‘Hello,’ said Sam to Laura. ‘Have we met?’ He asked because he knew it would annoy Egan.
Laura was trying to look stern as they exchanged details. Sam caught an accent, south of England.
‘I’ve spoken with my client and he has nothing to say.’
‘Except when it comes out of your mouth,’ said Egan, looking at Luke. ‘So why is he here, in his best suit?’
‘Because if he hadn’t come, you would have hauled him out of bed in his pyjamas, probably with a photographer on your tail, just to get your perma-tan on TV.’
Laura looked down, smirking.
‘Look, Inspector,’ Sam continued, trying to sound reasonable, ‘Mr King has nothing he wants to say to you. If you want to make him, you have to depose him at court. But for that you need to charge someone else, so if you want to hear what he has to say, either arrest him or someone else.’
Sam turned around and took hold of Luke’s arm to escort him out of the