Jackson rose to her feet. ‘Daisy couldn’t organize a piss-up in brewery. It was me who told the police you were coming . . . and before your hackles go up again, we were only asked about the fight in the pub and whether we knew how to contact you. I had no idea you had a connection with Walter Tutting until they took you in for questioning . . . and neither did Daisy.’
‘She made the arrest possible. She pointed me out to the police as soon as I came through the door.’
‘She had no choice. You assaulted one of her customers and she has a licence to protect.’ Jackson shook her head at Acland’s sullen expression. ‘What did you expect her to do? Jeopardize everything she’s worked for to avoid you feeling hard done by? If so, you’ve some strange ideas about other people’s priorities.’
‘I sure as hell don’t understand yours,’ he retorted angrily.
‘Why come looking for me? I’d be long gone if you’d kept your nose out of my business. The kid’s no concern of mine. Once I’d called the ambulance, I’d have left.’
‘The phone would still have existed and it would still have belonged to Kevin Atkins,’ she pointed out, ‘and you’d have looked a lot guiltier if you’d vanished at that point. Do you think Chalky wouldn’t have said that a lieutenant with an eyepatch was the third person in the alleyway?’
‘The police wouldn’t have been involved. It’s only because you’re a control freak that we’re in this mess. If you’d left well alone, the mobile would have remained untouched in the rucksack and the server wouldn’t have been able to track it.’
‘And you’d prefer it that way?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right,’ she said abruptly. ‘Then you and Chalky had better disappear. I can’t imagine he’ll be any keener than you to assist in a murder inquiry.’ She tucked her own mobile into her pocket, opened her medical case, put the stolen mobile and the spent Cellboost into an envelope, then closed the lid. ‘You’ll have the time it takes me to drive from here to Southwark East police station to put distance between yourselves and this hospital. I won’t mention either of you unless I’m asked directly if you were here.’
Acland squared up to her. ‘What good’s that if the paramedics saw us?’
Jackson shouldered past him to pick up the rucksack. ‘The police won’t bother with paramedics when they have Kevin Atkins’s phone,’ she said bitingly. ‘The only person they’ll be interested in is the sick boy upstairs. Or is that too complicated for you to understand?’
Fifteen
BY THE SIMPLE EXPEDIENT of making another series of calls, Jackson stymied all Acland’s attempts to speak to her as they returned to the car, but he couldn’t tell whether she was blanking him deliberately or whether the calls were necessary. One was a request for an update on Ben’s condition with a warning that the police would almost certainly want to interview him, another the information that she had taken responsibility for the rucksack herself, and the last an apology to her agency that she would be out of commission for another hour at Southwark East police station.
She was ahead of Acland as they entered the car park and took the full brunt of Chalky’s alcoholic ill-humour. ‘About bloody time,’ he growled. ‘Did you think I’d give up and go away if you held out long enough? Fancy my stuff, do you?’
Jackson ignored him to flick the locks on the BMW. She put her case and Ben’s rucksack on the back seat. ‘I’m sorry if we’ve inconvenienced you,’ she said pleasantly enough. ‘The boot’s open, Lieutenant. Do you want to give Chalky his bags and take your own?’
The corporal moved quickly to prevent Acland removing anything. ‘I’ll do my own, thanks.’ He tossed out the kitbag, then looped his fingers into the remaining assortment of carriers and tatty holdalls. ‘What’s up?’ he asked Jackson suspiciously, stepping away from the car.
‘I’ll leave the lieutenant to explain it to you.’
‘Where are you taking the lad’s rucksack?’
‘Southwark East nick.’
‘Like hell you are. Anything he has in there he came by fair and square.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about,’ said Jackson, watching Acland close the boot after emptying it. ‘You can come with me if you like . . . kill two birds with one stone. Sign for the rucksack’s contents, so that nothing goes astray if everything’s kosher, and vouch for the kid’s honesty in front of the cops. Interested?’
‘Depends what you’ve found.’
‘A mobile that doesn’t belong to him.’
Chalky gave a grunt of disgust. ‘You can’t shop him for that. There’s dodgy phones all over London. Easiest bloody things to pinch. That’s no reason to give the lad grief.’
‘It’s not just any stolen mobile, Chalky. The man who owned it was murdered.’
He stared at her out of bloodshot eyes. ‘How do you know?’
‘I got it working,’ she said. ‘It’s still connected to the server. I think the police kept it alive in case anyone tried to use it.’
‘The lad won’t know anything about a murder . . . probably doesn’t even know who he stole it from. No need to say where you found it.’
Jackson shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to.’ She opened the door. ‘The lieutenant’s making his own way from here. Do you want to do the same . . . or come with me? You’ll lessen the grief for Ben if there’s anything you know that might help him.’
Chalky shook his head. ‘There’s nothing ’cept what I’ve already told you. Him and me hardly know each other. Showed him a safe place to sleep and that’s about it. He came maybe five or six times.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘Me . . . nothing. Him . . . music and some girl he was keen on. Never really listened . . . just let him rabbit on till he nodded off.’
‘You said you met him a month ago. Have you any idea how long he’d been in London before that?’
‘No. ’
‘You also said gays were interested in him. Do you know if he ever went with any of them? Would he have sold himself if he needed money?’
Disgustedly, Chalky spat on the ground, as if to demonstrate his feelings about anal sex. ‘Didn’t ask. Can’t stand the buggers. Just showed him a safe place to kip.’
‘What would your guess be?’
‘Depends what he’s on. Cider comes cheap . . . heroin comes expensive. Most of ’em do it if they’re on the drugs.’ He made to move away, but a strong emotion suddenly burst out of him. ‘It ain’t right!’ he said loudly. ‘It’s not just the lads these bastards are after, it’s the lasses as well. If you’re going to tell the cops anything, tell ’em that.’
‘Sure,’ said Jackson easily, ‘but which bastards are we talking about? Punters or dealers?’
‘All of ’em! They treat runaways like garbage. When they’re not emptying themselves into the poor little sods, they’re getting ’em hooked on heroin. It shouldn’t be allowed.’ He launched another globule of spit on to the tarmac. ‘You can’t blame the kid for turning vicious. It’s the only way any of ’em know how to survive.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll see you around some time.’
Jackson watched him walk away. ‘Are you coming?’ she asked Acland.
He stared after Chalky for a moment, then opened the back door and put his kitbag inside. ‘Yes.’
*
If either had expected a sense of urgency to greet their arrival at the police station, they were disappointed. The team who’d interviewed Acland earlier had clocked off shortly after his release and the detective constable who was assigned to deal with them appeared to know less about Walter Tutting and Kevin Atkins than they did. Stressed about her work schedule, Jackson quickly
became irritated when he cut short her attempt at an explanation to pull out a form and ask for their names and addresses.