the bodies in the house.’
‘I know,’ Vanessa nodded. ‘Nobody will deny that he saw what happened. But there will be other witnesses including the Führer’s own sons and other Brigands who’ll swear him an alibi. They’ll drag up some expert witness who’ll explain how an eight-year-old who sees his whole family getting their brains blown out can be so traumatised that he’ll leap to conclusions and see things that he really didn’t.’
‘So you’re not planning to arrest the Führer and press charges?’ Ross asked.
Vanessa shook her head wearily. ‘I would if I had one strong piece of evidence besides Dante’s testimony. A gun that matched the bullets in the house. One of the Führer’s boots. A trace of firearms residue. But the Brigands had half an hour to clear up the murder scene and they did a bloody good job.’
Ross sighed. ‘So the Führer stays a free man?’
‘For now,’ Vanessa said. ‘It’s not like the police are going to stop investigating a quintuple murder after less than three months. But we’re going to need a significant breakthrough and the longer the investigation goes on the less likely that becomes.’
‘Are there any more forensic angles to be worked?’
‘Nope. The only thing that’s going to break this case open is another witness. Maybe if we arrest one of the Brigands further down the line on another charge and offer a deal in return for information about the murder. Or maybe a member of the public will walk into the police station with a gun or some clothing that didn’t burn properly. You never know.’
‘Poor bloody Dante,’ Ross sighed. ‘He’s such a great kid and he needs the Führer put behind bars so that he can get on with his life.’
*
Vanessa asked Dante and Ross to stick around for a few more hours in case she needed to ask more questions after a joint meeting with her CPS bosses and senior officers in charge of the police investigation.
In the end, nobody had any more questions for Dante, but by the time he’d recorded a new witness statement and waited around for the meeting to finish it was nearly 6 p.m. and Ross didn’t fancy the long drive back to London.
Ross, Dante, Steve and Jennifer booked into a bland hotel on a motorway junction. Dante shared his room with Ross. Because they were back in Devon he smuggled Dante into the hotel through a side door and made him hide in the bathroom when room service delivered their dinner.
The room had two double beds, but Dante lay on a bed beside Ross, eating spicy chicken with rice, drinking Pepsi from a glass bottle and sharing chips out of a basket lying between them. Steve the bodyguard was taking a nap in his room, but Jennifer had joined them and sat across the room with her lasagne perched on a narrow writing desk.
‘So Dante,’ Jennifer asked. ‘How are you feeling?’
Dante enjoyed Ross’ company. He not only resented Jennifer’s intrusion, but couldn’t understand why she’d suddenly appeared.
‘I don’t want to discuss my feelings with you,’ Dante said bitterly. ‘I don’t need any more people sticking their noses in.’
Ross gave Dante a don’t be rude stare, but Jennifer only laughed.
‘It doesn’t seem fair, does it?’ Jennifer asked.
Dante tutted. ‘Can’t I eat my dinner in peace?’
‘Jennifer is here to help you, Dante,’ Ross said. ‘She’s just trying to get to know you better.’
‘Fine,’ Dante huffed. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned lately it’s that life isn’t fair. The Führer kills my mum, dad, brother and sister. Then he tries to blow me up with a bomb. And he gets away with it, because apparently nobody on the jury will believe me because I told one stupid lie about a bloody T-shirt.’
‘They’re not saying they’ll never prosecute the Führer,’ Ross noted. ‘They just need more evidence.’
‘Blah, blah, blah,’ Dante said, as he dumped his dinner plate on the bedside table. ‘I never should have spoken to the cops. At least the Brigands do stuff, instead of having meetings, and waiting for evidence and all this other crap.’
‘You have every right to be upset,’ Jennifer said.
‘You’re all useless,’ Dante yelled. ‘When I’m old enough I’m going to get a sawn-off and a motorbike. I’m gonna drive up to the Führer’s house and I’m gonna shoot him in the legs. Then I’ll hook him up, and watch him bleed slowly to death.’
Dante felt tears welling in his eyes and he was annoyed because half a minute earlier he’d been eating his