Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil(83)

Of course. David Maynard, principal extraordinaire, would have had to put his two bloody pence in.

Katherine nudged Sadia surreptitiously and she reddened. “Sorry, Bish. I forgot—”

“Send me the link,” he said politely. He heard laughter amid the chatter from inside the room. Manoshi and Lola were like those two guys in the Muppets, Fionn had said.

“Have you thought of the girls sharing a room?” he asked. “It’ll do them the world of good.”

He left them for Fionn’s room, tapped lightly on the door and nudged it open. He caught a whiff of pot, and on entering found Charlie Crombie lazily curled up in an armchair. When he saw Bish he got to his feet and held out a hand to the other boy.

“Later, Sykes,” he said as they shook. He walked past Bish, sniffing exaggeratedly.

“Give my regards to your parents, Charlie,” he said.

“Will do, Inspector Bish,” Charlie said with feigned reverence.

When Crombie was gone, Fionn waved away the remnants of smoke. Bish was incredulous at the audacity of bringing pot into a hospital ward.

“I thought Mr. Crombie considered you a minion,” Bish said.

“If anyone can argue me under the table in theology, he can.”

It sounded lame. Bish was certain Crombie wanted something from this lonely, awkward boy.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Fionn,” he said, and caught the hurt in the kid’s eyes.

“Don’t tell me I’m selling myself short, Mr. Ortley. I go to school with plenty of decent people and hardly any of them have come to see me. A few came once. Did their duty. They acted like nothing had happened and I was just lying back and resting my constitution. And try getting any of my friends from up north to come visit.”

Bish knew the same thing had happened to Lola. Katherine couldn’t convince any of the parents of Lola’s so-called friends to visit. It’s too distressing, they said, too much for their children to bear. It’s too far for them to travel. Maybe when Lola’s better…

Fionn looked pained. “But Crombie’s been here four times now. It takes him just under three hours for the round trip, but he’s here. Like he’s got nothing better to do with his summer holidays.”

Other than get arrested, Bish thought.

“At first I thought he was here out of guilt,” Fionn said. “He didn’t speak to me for most of the trip. Not until the last couple of days. But now he lets me talk and talk. And not once has he pretended that my leg hasn’t been blown off. Because he was there, he was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes afterwards, and he kept saying over and over, ‘It’s okay, Sykes. I’m here. I’m here.’ I was so scared I pissed my pants.” Fionn seemed heartbroken. “Did you know it was me who killed them? I was trying to make room for Lola’s bag and I moved the backpack that had the bomb in it. Put it in Astrid and Michael’s overhead locker. That’s what the French are saying. I read it on a blog.”

Bish put a hand on the boy’s arm. “No one knows what happened, Fionn. Not yet. And even if what you say is true, what would that mean? If the bag had stayed where it was, you and Lola and Manoshi would be dead.”

Fionn was now sobbing. “I just want to get out of here. Sometimes I wake up and I can’t breathe. Can you find a way to get me out of here? Please.”





38



Iqbal Bagchi had volunteered to drop Saffron home on his way back to London. It meant that Bish could take her car, with the hope of making it across to Calais by 7 p.m. with Bee by his side. He suspected that the conversation with Rachel about the proposed interrogation with French intelligence would be tricky and bound to end in either labor or another fainting spell.

“No. And no!” Rachel said. “Just in case you didn’t hear it the first time.”

“We don’t have much of a choice, Rachel.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know the law. Of course we have a choice.”

She was chopping up onions in a way that had Bish fearing for her fingers. He removed the knife from her hands and found himself making the wife stealer’s dinner.

“They’ve promised me Bee isn’t under suspicion. When Attal’s daughter was interviewed by intelligence, she recalled Violette mentioning an argument with the driver of the French bus. That was reinforced by footage caught on a video of Michael and Astrid.”

“So why involve Bee?”

“Because Marianne Attal claims Bee was there when Violette spoke about the argument. French intelligence believes Bee can shed light on what took place. Not to mention the fact that she shared a room with Violette for a week.”

“I thought Violette wasn’t a suspect.”

“She’s not. She was possibly the target. Could still be if we don’t get her off the streets.”

Rachel was unconvinced. “Why did they interview Attal’s daughter in the first place? They’ve got something on these kids, Bish. There must be more on those campsite security cameras.”

“Worst-case scenario is that Bee and the others were drinking or smoking dope. Better that I take her there with a barrister from Home Office than French intelligence cross the Channel to interview her and it becomes a headline.”

“Do you know what I think?” Rachel said. “That Marianne Attal, or whatever the hell her name is, has something to hide and is trying to drag the British kids down with her.”