‘You mock, but this arthritis malarkey’s gonna catch up with you one day, son. So don’t get too cocky. Besides, I’ve already made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, hoovered the downstairs, fixed the tap in the bathroom, and put a load of washing in the machine. And now your mother’s got me in the garage because the lamp on her bedside table’s broken and it needs immediate fixing otherwise she won’t be able to read her books in bed tonight.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Don’t get married. It’s never-ending.’
Tomek chuckled as he focused on turning at a junction.
‘How’s everyone?’ Perry continued. ‘Kasia? Work?’
Tomek gave him the SparkNotes version of the night before, keeping the details about the letter from Nathan, and the discussion with his brother, away from his dad.
‘Ouch,’ Perry replied.
‘Yeah.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘No. It’s okay.’
‘Okay. All right, well…’
That was all that needed to be said on the matter. They’d handled it like men, without actually saying anything at all, and now it was time to move on. Fortunately, there was something else on Perry’s mind.
‘While I’ve got you,’ he said, lowering his voice so that it was little more than a whisper. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.’
The sound of tools and metal clanging rattled in the background as he spoke, presumably to stop his mum from overhearing.
‘Right…’ Tomek answered.
‘It’s about Nathan.’
Tomek hesitated. Had Dawid spoken to him?
‘Okay…’
‘When you went to see him the other month, you said that he told you he’d acted alone.’
‘Yeah. That’s right.’
As Perry struggled to get the words out, the sound of tools moving gradually increased.
‘And I wondered… I wondered if, you know, if you believed him?’
‘If I believed him?’
‘Yeah. Do you think there’s still this second person out there or do you… do you think he really acted alone?’
Tomek wondered where his dad was going with this, and what had made him bring it up after several weeks. Tomek had told his family about his visit to Nathan Burrows at HMP Wakefield a few weeks before, and his dad hadn’t raised any concerns then. In fact, he’d sided with Tomek’s mother and finally, as a family, they’d agreed to let it go. After thirty years of constantly seeking closure, they’d decided that Nathan Burrows had acted alone, that nobody else had been with him, and that Tomek had imagined it. All that pressure, all the burdens had been lifted from their lives and they’d become closer. But now Perry had finally voiced his concerns, away from his mother’s listening ears.
‘What’s brought all this on, Dad?’ Tomek asked.
‘I was doing some thinking,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Just wondered whether you’ve changed your mind.’
‘I…’ Tomek hesitated. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what Perry was expecting him to say. He inhaled deeply, held it there, then let the air out of his lips slowly. ‘I don’t believe him,’ he said, unsure of himself. ‘I think… I think Charlie’s still out there, yes.’
‘And all that stuff the other week at dinner? That was for your mother’s benefit?’
Tomek mumbled, unable to answer.
‘Good. Keep it that way. She’s been much better since you came out and said what you said. She’s happier, she’s different. I haven’t seen her like this in nearly thirty years. She’s a completely different woman.’
‘She’s still got you cleaning and fixing things for her, though.’
‘She’s still got me cleaning and fixing things for her, yes. But, trust me, it’s the happiest she’s ever been. And I don’t want anything to change that right now. So… so keep it from your mother, okay? Don’t say anything to her, and neither will I. Our little secret.’
There was nothing little about this. Not when it came to Michał. Not when it involved Nathan Burrows.
‘I knew you were hiding something from us that night,’ Perry continued. The sound of movement and metal clanging into metal returned. ‘I could see it in your face that you still believed it. And I just want you to know that I believe you too. I knew it wasn’t in your nature to let this thing go so easily. You’ve been fighting it for the last thirty years, and I know you’ll keep hunting the bastard down for the next thirty, right to the end. I know you’ll do what’s right for our family, son. I know you’ll find him, because he’s out there somewhere. I can feel it. I know it, you know it. And I know you’ve got it in you to find him. Keep fighting, kiddo.’
A lump swelled in Tomek’s throat. A pat on the back, vindication, a nod well done. The first time his father had told him he was proud, that he believed in him. Thirty years too late, but it was there, nonetheless. And as Tomek pondered it for a moment, he realised what that little speech was: his father, begging for help, begging for Tomek to find Michał’s second killer, because he too had carried the same burden all these years, just in a different way, hidden from the rest of the family. And now he was making it abundantly clear to Tomek what needed to be done, and that he would be by his side every step of the way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Finding Shawn Wilkins, the man who’d been convicted of stalking Angelica Whitaker, should have been a quick search, a quick look on the register. But it had been anything but. His registered address had been at his parents’ house, but when Oscar and Rachel had turned up to bring him in for questioning, they’d learnt that he’d moved out. The only problem was his parents were talkers, and had kept them both occupied for two hours before eventually giving them the information they needed.
While he was waiting, Chey had spent the last twenty minutes listing all the evidence they had against Wilkins to him. Several counts of standing outside Angelica Whitaker’s house in the middle of the night, sometimes sitting in his car, watching her through the window with the lights on, following her in the middle of the street at night and in broad daylight, turning up at Whitaker’s, the jewellery store unannounced, pretending to buy something (and even doing so on one occasion, then giving it to her as a gift), messaging her repeatedly on social media and via text message, frequently using fake accounts and new mobile numbers to reach out to her, and constantly commenting on every one of her social media posts with the phrases, ‘My gorgeous angel’ and ‘My angel’s got her wings back’, as though they were boyfriend and girlfriend. The only problem was, Tomek wasn’t listening to any of it. His thoughts were hundreds of miles away in Wakefield, loitering outside the prison, looking up at the iron bars outside the grey and murky windows of the building. Then his thoughts cut to the field of the playground where his brother had died – the playground that was still there, except it looked completely different thirty years on. This time he pictured the bench with Michał’s name on it. He hadn’t sat on that bench, let alone seen it, in years. And now there it was, crystal clear in his mind’s eye.
‘Sarge?’
