‘And you ran away. Is that why they’re after you, Martin?’
He swung his head from side to side as though he couldn’t fathom it out.
‘What happened with Derek?’ Leanne spoke softly. What the hell did she mean? I waited.
‘Tell us about Derek,’ Leanne insisted.
‘No,’ he protested, ‘no, no.’ The shaking became more pronounced. He was remembering something he’d rather forget.
‘They think Derek killed Janice Brookes,’ I said, ‘the woman they found on the motorway.’
‘He didn’t, did he?’ said Leanne. ‘It was someone else, wasn’t it? Someone else at that house. Was it Smiley?’
Why the hell hadn’t she told me that Derek knew Martin, knew about the house?
‘I can’t tell you.’ He broke down, making squeaky little noises. ‘They’ll kill me, they’ll kill me.’
‘You’ve got to tell us,’ said Leanne, anger sharpening her tone. ‘Derek was my mate, I want to know. He didn’t do, it did he? Martin?’
‘Oh, fuck.’ A spasm shook his body and he pressed himself back against the stone slab. I followed his eyes. Leanne had a gun. She was pointing it at Martin.
My mouth went dry. ‘Leanne.’
‘Shut up, I’m talking to Martin.’
‘Don’t, don’t,’ Martin whimpered.
‘Tell us.’
‘We had to help. Derek, he was running for Smiley. He was round now and again, errands.’ The phrases came out staccato, little bursts of information punctuated by his shivering. ‘It was in the hall. There was an old curtain. We had to roll it up. The body, this woman’s body. Mr Johnson was there, giving orders.’
‘Who’s he?’ I asked.
‘Smiley’s boss,’ said Martin.
‘Go on.’ Leanne waved the gun. I glanced over to Max. He looked wary, tensed like a frightened animal. I knew the sensation.
‘Derek was freaking out, he didn’t want to do it. Smiley was stringing him out, saying he wouldn’t get his stuff and that. Crack. He gives him a bit to keep him going. We put it in the car. It’s her car. Derek has to drive it. Mr Johnson says it’s fine. Leave her, the body, on the motorway. Bring the car to Smiley. Don’t forget the curtain. Mr Mackinlay asks about the curtain but Smiley says he’ll arrange a little fire. Put it in an empty flat in Hulme. Get it torched.’ He stopped abruptly.
‘So, Derek drove off and you didn’t see him again?’ I said. ‘Leanne, put that bloody thing down, will you?’ She ignored me. ‘Derek didn’t kill her, did he?’
‘No.’ A whisper. ‘Who killed her, Martin?’ I kept my voice gentle. He rocked back and forth. ‘Who killed her?’
‘They’ll do me in,’ he said.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We’re going to make sure you’re alright.’
Max put his hand on Martin’s shoulder.
‘It was one of the parties. They were filming. All the little kids were up in the bedrooms. I was in the lounge with Mr Mackinlay and this visitor. He’s telling me what I’ve got to do – with the little girls, when it’s my turn. I never wanted to do it.’ He looked up at me, grief on his face. ‘I was just working the clubs a bit. Mr Mackinlay, he says it’ll be like that but safer. A nice place. He didn’t say about kids – some of them were that small. One guy, he brought his own kids there…’ Into my mind flashed the picture I’d seen from Nina’s window; the white minibus, the clutch of cars, another party.
‘What happened?’ said Leanne.
‘Everyone was pissed, really pissed. Mr Sharrocks comes down for another bottle and the bell goes. There’s two blokes from London not arrived yet, so he goes to see if it’s them. I couldn’t see anything. There was screaming, a woman. Mackinlay goes out and comes back and says to stay out of the hall. Tells me to wait with the visitor. This bloke, he just goes, he could tell there was something wrong. Mr Mackinlay rings Mr Johnson.’ Martin swallowed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Mr Sharrocks comes in then. He’s all covered with blood. He says, ‘She was hysterical, I can’t bear hysterical women.’ Mr Mackinlay tells him to shut up and Mr Sharrocks says, ‘She was onto us, she’d come for her boy. I did it for all of us.’ He’s going on and on. Mr Mackinlay slaps him and he’s quiet.’ Martin looked up at me. ‘But I know now, I know. They’re never going to let me go. They’ll find me.’
Leanne’s face was blank. All expression wiped out. She lowered the gun and put it in her pocket. That’s why she’d called in at the squat. For a gun, not a tampon.
‘How did you get away?’ Max asked in a hoarse voice.
‘Bathroom window. I’ve been planning it, waiting for a chance.’
I turned aside and gulped fresh air. Pushed away the pictures conjured up by Martin’s story.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘We’ve a car over at the gates.’ Then I heard footsteps. So did Martin.
‘Someone’s coming,’ he said. And my guts dissolved.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
‘Wait here.’ I stepped out from the foot of the colonnade and walked over to the path. Squinting into the gloom, I made out a figure. As he drew nearer, I recognised the combination of spectacles, moustache and long stylish raincoat. I began to breathe again. Detective Inspector Miller. Relief. The cavalry had arrived.
‘It’s alright,’ I called back to the others. ‘I know who it is.’
I walked over to Miller.
‘You got my message. Martin’s here, and he knows who killed Janice Brookes. It wasn’t Derek Carlton – he was set up. There’s more besides. But I think we need to get him to safety, he’s petrified. Convinced that the people involved will kill him to keep him quiet.’
Miller nodded. The cynical look hadn’t left his eyes. He’d still got me labelled as an interfering neurotic but at least he’d come when I needed him.
‘I’ll just explain who you are,’ I said. ‘He might bolt if he doesn’t understand.’
I crossed the wet grass back to the others. Martin was still shaking, his eyes darting to and fro. I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked him full in the face.
‘Martin, the police are here.’ He jerked. ‘It’s okay, I’ve told them roughly what’s happened. The rest can wait. They’ll find a safe place for you. They’ll be able to protect you and make sure the right people are sent down for this. Understand?’ He gave a small nod. Max, at his side, remained still and quiet.
Leanne leant back against the wall opposite, narrowing her eyes.
‘Okay, Inspector,’ I shouted.
Miller walked forward into view, a few yards in front of us.
‘No,’ Martin said softly, ‘no.’ He screamed in desperation. ‘That’s him, that’s Mr Johnson.’
Oh, shit. My heart kicked at my breasts. I saw movement from Leanne, as she darted forward, then I reeled as the sharp, cracking sound pierced my ear-drums. Miller hit the ground and Leanne ran off between the columns and behind the monument. I struggled to make sense of what was happening. I could smell the bitter scent of gunpowder. My ears were singing.
‘Oh, shit,’ said Martin. ‘She’s killed him.’
I moved, then froze at the sound of footsteps running on the path. Another man appeared. He wore a dark suit, a light shirt. He looked as though he was laughing. He stopped beside Miller and dropped onto one knee.
‘Smiley,’ Martin said. I felt him swoon beside me and slither down the wall, till he was crouching at our feet. I looked at Max. Saw my own fear staring back at me.
Miller murmured something and I heard Smiley answer no. Then Smiley handed Miller his glasses and helped him up. Miller brushed down his coat. He was unhurt. Leanne had missed; he’d just been playing safe. The two men quickly covered the ground to where we were. Stood framed in the entrance. No-one spoke. My right knee was jerking. I hoped they wouldn’t notice.