“So how the hell did you work out it were me?”
“I saw a picture of Sara Queen at a night club in Cambridge on the evening of the murder, when she was supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Bleeding hookers, never worth the money you spend.”
Joseph wasn’t interested in getting into a discussion about prostitution or anything else with Derek. He asked again, trying to sound more insistent.
“So, Harry Jones. What did he do?”
Derek sat up, swivelling to face Joseph, a malevolence in his eyes. “He did whatever I bloody told him to do. He did it without question.”
“Did he kill Gerald Trainer?”
“Pah,” Derek spat at the idea. “That bleeder couldn’t kill a dockside rat. He’s yellower than you. That’s what makes him useful, what makes him do as he’s told. Young ’uns like you, you’ve all got no sense, so it’s up to us to make sure you do as you’re told. A clip round the ear sometimes works. With Harry it was even easier. You do as you’re told, or you ain’t got nothing. You’re out on your ear, lad.”
“So, you blackmailed him?”
“Blackmailed? No. I told him that if he did me favours, I’d do him favours. He’d have a job for as long as I were there.”
“Well, look how that’s turned out,” Joseph seized the opportunity to remind Derek of his place before he started to get on his soapbox.
“Yeah, look,” he said shaking his head. “I’m in here and he ain’t far behind. Silly bleeder. He wasn’t a bad lad, to be fair. Just turned up at the wrong time. Always trying to go that extra yard. Drove his van back too quick to get another load in. He walked right in on me, trying to move that big lump.”
“Did he help you?”
“What choice did he have?” Derek said contemptuously. “I said jump, he jumped.”
“Did he do anything else?”
“Other than keep that trap of his shut? No.”
“What about the fire?”
“Like I needed his help to do that. You lot nearly did the same thing, to be fair. If you’d have turned up a couple of minutes before you’d have found me at the warehouse, or at the very least walking back. Good job I’d got the fire on, or I reckon your noses would have done the job. Bet you’re both right little basset hounds.”
Joseph quickly reviewed everything he’d just learned. Harry had withheld evidence and assisted an offender. But he believed Derek when he said that the boy had simply done as he was told. Harry was bent around Derek’s finger. A jury might have seen it that way too. But they might not. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.
“I’m going to ask you to do me a favour,” he said.
“Oh yeah, what’s that then?” Derek laughed.
“I want you to keep Harry out of your story. Don’t mention him at all.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Derek cocked his head as if he didn’t quite understand what was meant by that, so Joseph went on. “He kept your loyalty. He said nothing about you at all. Even when we charged him with other crimes, he never once mentioned you. If you don’t bring him up, we won’t either. It’ll give him a chance. Repay him for what he did for you.”
“Repay him?” Derek replied derisively.
“Yes. Like you would have done a private in your platoon.”
Derek shook his head. “You have a very interesting view of my morality, especially given everything.” He turned his palms upwards as if gesturing to his current circumstances.
“It’s been said,” Joseph agreed. He said nothing more, just looked at Derek.
“Fine,” came the ultimate reply. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll do it. It’ll help your cause after all. You want to spin this as a spur of the moment thing. Not that you spent your whole work life terrorising and cajoling people to your will. Do you want that going through the minds of the judge when he’s deciding your sentence?”
“What difference will that make? Ain’t no get-out-of-jail-free card for me. Look at me. I’m spending the rest of my days inside.”
“Then do something worthwhile, for God’s sake,” Joseph finally snapped. He had had enough. All the whining from Derek, all the self-pity. If he was going to make the case for Harry, he couldn’t afford to do it nicely. He had to be blunt. “That lad did all he could for you. He bloody risked it all, and Lord knows we should be going after him for it. But stop him ending up like you. Give him the chance you didn’t have and let him live a good bloody life.”
Derek didn’t argue further. He muttered a weak woe-is-me monologue to no one in particular, but clearly Joseph had said something that had either found its mark or broken the man. Whatever it was, when Joseph shut the cell door behind him, Derek had promised to forget that the conversation ever happened. Joseph even believed him.
The problem was, he had one last person he had to talk to, who would be far harder to convince.
*
“And now I’m blessed to see you again on a Sunday.” Christopher Peters looked and sounded far from impressed as Joseph walked into the room. The feeling was completely mutual. Joseph had very little desire to be there himself.
Peters sat in his usual chair. As before, no chair was provided opposite. Joseph didn’t feel like standing this time, however, so before he began, he walked to another table, picked up a free chair and brought it over. Peters looked at him with something that bordered shock and contempt. It probably put other people into their place, but Joseph didn’t know what his place was, and he couldn’t really work out whether to be scared or apologetic so, in the end, he was neither.
“I need to ask a favour of you,” Joseph said bluntly. Peters eased backward into his chair.
“Go on,” he said, his voice suddenly taking on a softer tone as he slipped into the role of avid listener.
