Close to Home (DI Adam Fawley #1)(57)

I reach for one of the hard-back chairs and swing it alongside him. Then I sit down and open my cardboard folder and show him one of the CCTV images. The one of him and Daisy on 19 April.

‘Do you know who this is?’

He takes a deep drag and blows the smoke in my face. ‘What if I do?’

‘This girl is Daisy Mason. Her face has been all over the press and the web for the best part of a week. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.’

He narrows his eyes, but says nothing.

‘She’s missing. She may even be dead. And a few weeks before she disappeared she was seen talking with you.’

‘I talk to lots of people. Sociable bloke, me.’

‘I’m sure you’re quite the life and soul. Only that wasn’t the first time you’d spoken to her, was it?’

I get out more pictures. ‘April twelfth, April fourteenth, April nineteenth. And here, on May ninth, is Daisy Mason in the back of a car registered to Azeem Rahija. With you presumably in the front seat.’

More silence. More smoke. I can see his brain working in his eyes. He doesn’t know how much I know.

‘Why were you stalking her?’

‘Stalking? Fuck off. That’s not stalking.’

‘So what’s a boy your age doing hitting on an eight-year-old girl if it’s not stalking? We have you with her on camera, four separate times. On the last occasion she’s seen in a car with you and the brother of a convicted child rapist, and a few weeks later she disappears. You think a jury won’t draw the obvious conclusion?’

‘I wasn’t hitting on her – ’

‘So what was it then? Why else would you bother with a kid like that? Getting in touch with your feminine side, were you? Or did you develop a sudden overwhelming interest in My Little Pony? Or perhaps Barbie is your doll of choice? I mean, it’s 2016 – boys can play with girls’ toys, right?’

He swings his legs down and plants his feet on the floor. He won’t look at me, but the hand that holds the fag is shaking.

‘You were grooming her, weren’t you – getting her to trust you so you could abuse her – ’

‘I did not abuse her – ’

‘Did you give her to those sickos the Rahijas used to deal with? I bet they’d pay a fortune to rape a girl like that. Or did you want her for yourself? Is that what happened that day? You go round to the house, all smiles, all Prince Charming. And her mother’s not there so she goes out to play with you and for a while it’s nicey nicey. Only by the time you have your fist in her knickers – ’

‘Inspector,’ pleads Ross, ‘is that really necessary?’

‘ – she realizes what you really want and she’s screaming and you have to shut her up but she’s struggling and you have your hand over her mouth – ’

‘You’re disgusting,’ yells the boy, lurching to his feet. ‘I didn’t lay a fuckin’ finger on her. You’re fuckin’ sick, that’s what you are – only some sort of weirdo pervert would do that to their own sister – ’

I take a deep breath, count to five. ‘Your sister.’

He swallows. ‘Yeah. Barry Mason is my dad.’

He sits back down, heavily. ‘The sodding bastard.’

*

Back in my office, I call Alex.

‘Where the hell are you, Adam? I thought we were supposed to be going to your parents’ for lunch.’

Shit. I’d forgotten all about it.

‘I’m sorry. Things have rather – ’

‘Got away from you. I know. This is me, remember?’

I sigh. ‘Am I really that predictable?’

‘During a big case? That would be a yes.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ll call my mother. I promise. Look, I wanted to ask you a favour. I know your firm isn’t big on Legal Aid, but we’ve got this kid in here who was seen talking to Daisy outside the school. Turns out he’s Barry Mason’s son by a first marriage.’

‘Shit. Sounds like someone slipped up.’

‘I know, but to be fair we had no reason to go looking. Not till now anyway. The problem is we can’t find either his mother or his stepfather. Neither’s answering their phone and the next-door neighbour thinks they could be away for the weekend. The duty solicitor is stuck on another case and we haven’t yet found anyone who can get here much before this evening. So I was wondering – ’

‘ – if I’d find someone for you?’

I bite my lip. ‘I’m sorry. It always seems to be me asking the favours these days.’

‘And me doing them.’ There’s a long intake of breath, then, ‘OK, leave it with me. I may be able to lean on a junior who’s got more ambition than social life. What’s your kid’s name?’

‘Jamie Northam.’

I can hear the surprise. ‘Not Northam as in Marcus Northam?’

‘I’ve no idea. Why – should I have heard of him?’

‘Put it this way, we’ll be charging him the full rate. Plus expenses. I’ll make a couple of calls and ring you back.’

‘Thanks, Alex, I really – ’

But the line has gone dead.

*

Continuation of interview with Barry Mason, conducted at St Aldate’s Police Station, Oxford