CHERUB: Brigands M.C. - Robert Muchamore Page 0,14
stood by the window, peering into darkness at the press gathered in the car park downstairs.
‘They can wait there all night,’ she sighed. ‘They’ve had the only statement they’re getting.’
Ross furrowed his brow as he followed the senior officer’s gaze. Most of the journalists sat on the low wall around the car park or in the open doorways of their cars. A vaguely familiar face from the BBC wore a high-necked black coat. She was going out live on twenty-fourhour news, while the correspondent from Sky stood behind her camera trying to put her off by making dickhead gestures.
‘So,’ Chief Inspector Lindsay asked, as she looked back at Ross. ‘How’s our star witness holding up?’
‘Dante’s in shock,’ Ross said. ‘He’s having what we call a manic response: one minute he’s full of beans, the next he’s crying and asking for his mum. But he held it together for long enough to record a decent witness statement.’
‘Do you think he’ll make a good witness in court?’ Lindsay asked.
‘He’s only eight, but I’d say so,’ Ross nodded. ‘I had a brief conversation with his teacher. She said Dante’s one of the two or three brightest kids in his year. Good all-rounder, confident and popular. Only trouble is he can be a bit rough in the playground, but she says they’ve got a few bikers’ sons at the school and they’re all the same. They idolise their dads and the macho posturing rubs off on them.’
‘We might need a strong witness,’ Lindsay said. ‘The Führer had half an hour to clean up the house before Dante reached the payphone and forensics reckon he did a pretty thorough job. All the bodies are badly burned and what wasn’t burned got a soaking when the fire brigade doused the flames.’
‘What about away from the scene?’ Ross asked. ‘Tyre tracks, petrol cans, eyewitnesses?’
‘Not yet, but we’re hoping,’ Lindsay said. ‘I’ve dealt with Brigands cases before. The Führer will have torched his clothes and shoes. The weapons will have been taken away and melted down.’
‘Has the Führer been pulled for questioning yet?’ Ross asked.
Lindsay shook her head. ‘We thought he might choose to disappear for a few days, but he seems confident. We knocked on his door, asked him a few questions and explained that we wanted to impound his bike in conjunction with a murder investigation. He told the officers to go ahead, but they found the bike on the floor of his workshop in a hundred and sixteen pieces, fitted with a brand new set of tyres that’ll make it impossible to trace tyre tracks.’
‘Shit,’ Ross said, shaking his head. ‘What about the other Brigands, someone must know something?’
‘They’ll never speak to cops,’ Lindsay said.
Ross raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘But in this instance. I mean, two of their own people dead. A woman, two kids …’
‘Someone in the gang might have a problem,’ Lindsay acknowledged. ‘But if they do, they’ll deal with it within the club and the first we’ll know is when another body turns up. So, unless forensics find something spectacular, or an eye witness comes forward, I’d say that this case is going to hinge on the quality of Dante’s eye witness testimony. I just hope he’s not telling any fibs.’
‘I think he’s solid,’ Ross said. ‘Except for the bloody T-shirt.’
‘What T-shirt?’
‘Forensics found one of Dante’s T-shirts in a bush alongside the house,’ Ross explained. ‘It was covered in blood. I asked the boy and he said his friend Joe had a nosebleed while they were playing.’
‘So are they following the story up?’ Lindsay asked.
Ross sighed. ‘Joe is the Führer’s youngest son. Same age as Dante, same class at school. The thing is, the way the blood is spattered across the shirt it doesn’t look like any nosebleed that I ever saw. And when I mentioned it to Kate, she said that Dante had dried blood on his arm and under his fingernails when he got here. The doctor who examined him took swabs and photographs.’
‘Dammit,’ Lindsay cursed.
Ross shrugged. ‘I’m guessing he caught this Joe with his elbow or something and doesn’t want to tell me because he’s scared he’ll get into trouble for fighting.’
‘Most likely,’ Lindsay nodded. ‘But the fact that Dante lied undermines his credibility as a witness.’
‘Still,’ Ross said, ‘Dante’s given us an hour’s worth of testimony. I don’t think anybody will believe that an eight-year-old is capable of making up a story in that kind of detail.’