Death Message

It was chaotic in the custody suite: officers queued up, ready to grab a vacant interview room; lunchtime trays were still being ferried to and from the cells; at the platform, two young women screamed at the custody skipper, while the uniformed constable booking them in did his best to calm things down.

The phone was still ringing and Thorne did not want to miss the call. He hit ANSWER while he was negotiating his way through the scrum. Said his name and stepped into the cage – the reinforced entry through which prisoners were brought from the backyard. He’d wanted to take the call outside, but it was tipping down, so he pressed himself into a corner of the cage.

‘Thorne…?’

The word was stretched and hoarse; the tiredness in the voice even more evident than it had been the last time. Thorne covered his free ear with his right hand. ‘I’m here. I got your message.’ He turned in a little towards the metal wall. ‘I saw “Squire”.’

‘Looks like he hasn’t got a care in the world, doesn’t he?’

He’s got plenty to think about now, Thorne thought.

‘Walking his fucking dog…’

‘Listen… I know him,’ Thorne said. He waited for a reaction. Watched the rain bouncing off the cars and vans in the backyard.

‘Probably not as well as you thought, though, right? He’s very good at pretending to be something he’s not.’

A WPC jogged around the corner and stepped into the cage. She stood next to Thorne, swearing and shaking off the rain. Thorne grunted a yes into the phone while he waited for her to move inside.

‘So, what did you do?’ Brooks asked. The simplest question sounded dragged out; desperate. ‘Did you tell him?’

‘I gave him a choice.’

‘That all?’

‘So far.’

‘You hoping he’s going to turn himself in?’

It told him that the man in the video clip was still alive, but Thorne had no easy answer to the question. He knew he wanted to see ‘Squire’ pay for what he’d done, but that was as far as it went. How he paid was a different matter. ‘I don’t know what he’s going to do.’

Brooks released a fractured breath, a short groan. ‘I wish I knew what your game was,’ he said.

‘That makes two of us.’

‘You could always just arrest him.’

‘I’ve got no evidence.’

‘It’s there. You know it is.’

‘You going to give me time to find it?’

The pause before Brooks spoke again made it clear that he was eager to get on with the job. That ‘Squire’ didn’t have too long to make his decision. ‘So, what’s the plan then?’

‘There really isn’t one,’ Thorne said.

‘You’re watching him, I suppose. Waiting for me to come bowling along like an idiot, so you can nick the two of us at the same time.’

Thorne’s ambivalence turned to irritation in a second, and he seized on it hungrily. Staring out at the shitty weather and listening to a murderer telling him what he could be doing. What he knew very well he should be doing. ‘Why the fuck did you send me this stuff? Any of it? You’re not stupid, you know it’s going to get you caught sooner or later. Sending the messages wasn’t just about doing Stuart Nicklin a favour, was it?’

Thorne had to strain to hear the answer. The rain was getting heavier, and Brooks sounded as though he was drifting away. ‘I wouldn’t piss Nicklin out,’ he said. ‘The simple fact is, once this is done, I don’t care what happens. I get caught, I don’t get caught, it’s all the same. Prison isn’t going to make the future any worse for me, so it’s all just a fucking gamble.’ There was another long pause before he spoke again; low and expressionless, like interference from another line. A voice coming through the wall. ‘I’m happy just to wait and see what happens.’

Thorne heard the click and three sharp tones; listened to dead air for a few seconds. He wasn’t exactly happy to wait and see, but he knew he didn’t really have a lot of choice.

Kemal was still talking, but he wasn’t saying very much.

He may have taken advice from his solicitor, of course, or perhaps it was just the fact that the interview had been interrupted. Either way, five minutes back into it, Thorne could see that the impetus had gone, and he knew it was down to him to get it back.

‘You know how we found you, don’t you, Hakan?’

‘The parking ticket.’

‘No, I mean, how we knew that you were the man we should be looking for in the first place?’

Kemal waited.

‘Harika told us.’ He nodded, smiled. ‘Your sister told us that you had killed Deniz Sedat.’

Next to him, Thorne was aware of Kitson stiffening. He knew that she was not wholly comfortable with this approach, that she’d given Harika Kemal certain assurances. But Thorne felt they had to do whatever was necessary.

They’d spoken briefly before Kemal had been led back into the interview room. When Kitson had urged him to tread carefully, Thorne had reminded her that she’d asked for his help. He told her that Kemal was bound to find out that they’d talked to Harika sooner or later and that getting the truth out of him was surely the most important thing.

Kitson hadn’t argued. She had seen that Thorne was fired up. She’d looked at him, said, ‘Who the fuck was that on the phone?’

It was warm in the interview room. In the silences, Thorne could hear the sound of water rushing through the hot-water pipes; a counterpoint to the rain clattering on to the flat roof above them. He wondered if the other three were sweating as much as he was.

He stared at Hakan Kemal. ‘Does that upset you? Your sister coming to us, telling us that you were the man responsible?’

Kemal crossed his arms. He leaned back in his chair and glanced at Gina Bridges as though he’d only just noticed she was there.

‘Come on, that must really hurt. That must really piss you off. Christ, I know how I’d feel if it was my sister. Especially as you were the one who was keeping an eye on her. It seems to me that you were the only one looking out for her. That’s about right, isn’t it? You were the one member of the family who genuinely had her best interests at heart.’

A small nod. Thorne could see that Kemal’s fists were clenched beneath his arms; pressed against his ribs.

‘Do you think Harika betrayed you?’ Thorne saw the reaction; glimpsed a tender spot to dig away at. ‘Do you think she’s taken Sedat’s side against you, against your family?’

Kemal began to rock slightly. He opened and closed his mouth.

‘Do you think she’s disloyal?’

‘Yes…’

‘Do you think she’s let you down?’

‘She is ungrateful.’

The word had been all but growled out. Thorne took a beat. ‘Why do you-?’

‘I did it for her.’ Kemal was shouting; his fists out in front of him on the table. ‘It was because of what he did to her.’

‘You killed Deniz Sedat? That’s what you’re telling us?’ Kemal nodded. ‘For the tape…’

‘I killed him.’ Quieter again.

Kitson exchanged a glance with Gina Bridges. The solicitor gave a small shrug, as if to say, ‘Well done.’ Kitson leaned forward. ‘Was Sedat abusive towards your sister, Hakan? Are you saying he raped her?’

Kemal looked awkward, kept his eyes on Thorne. ‘He did things to her… sexually. U

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Thorne said.

‘Sodomy.’ Kemal grimaced, lowered his voice. ‘He sodomised my sister. Sedat was an animal.’

Thorne looked at Kitson. So this was why Hakan Kemal was uncomfortable talking to a woman. He turned back to Kemal. ‘I can understand that you were upset, but what Sedat and your sister did is not illegal…’

‘What he did to her.’

‘Whatever. It’s not a reason to kill someone.’

‘He was gri