Chapter 12
DAY THREE
“Istarted with Dai Howell from the Scouts,” Brody said once the first sandwiches had been eaten.
“He took the allegation seriously, and talked me through everything they do to keep the children and young people safe. He said no one was ever left alone with a group, and never with only one of the kids. He got a bit embarrassed and admitted that they had all been very suspicious of Mason at first. He was foreign, and no one knew why he came here, and he wanted to work with kids. Big red flags. So, they watched him like hawks. When they found out he was rich, they watched him even harder. Nothing. They were still watching him until he disappeared, they never stopped, even though Dai said he was certain Mason was exactly as he seemed.”
“Didn’t stop them taking Mason’s money,” Deryn said.
“I think that’s one reason for Dai’s embarrassment,” Murphy said.
“Anyway, I didn’t stop with Dai. I revisited all the curtain-twitchers round here.
Because as a Scout leader, Mason would have been seen as ‘safe’ by the kids.
No children visited the house. No teenagers visited the house.
It was as if Mason knew people were watching. ”
“In a place like this, people are always watching,” Deryn said.
It was why he’d left for the flat outside Cardiff.
Not that it had saved him from Phillip’s attention.
The neighbours would all know he was here tonight, and had stayed last night, and it would have been all round the village by lunchtime.
Outsiders called it friendliness. He knew it was a method of social control.
No one was allowed to be different. They would have made a project of Mason, waiting for him to slip up.
Except apparently he hadn’t. “I’ve left a message for my boss to say Mason probably hasn’t left the country,” he said.
“So, maybe she will take the kidnapping theory more seriously. But honestly, with three fentanyl overdoses on the books, it’s not going to be a high priority.
The word from on high is to get the drugs off the streets before there are more deaths. ”
“I’d probably make the same call,” Murphy said.
The police station was busy again when he got back. Glover beckoned from her office door.
“I’ve had a call from Mrs Branwen Fromow, who I believe is your sister. I’ve never met her, but she insisted on speaking to me, and clearly knows I’m your boss.”
He wasn’t invited to sit.
“I assume you know the nature of the complaint, DC Kent?”
“No, ma’am,” Deryn said, because he would be damned if he was going to make it easy.
Glover raised her eyebrows. “Really? So, you would be surprised to learn that she alleges you broke into her house and assaulted her husband, Phillip?”
“No, ma’am,” he said again. In fairness, he wouldn’t be surprised at anything his sister said.
“Are you being deliberately obtuse, Kent? And do not say no, ma’am.”
Which was the answer to the question. So, feeling like a villain being interviewed under caution he focussed on the unimportant. “I didn’t break in. I know the entry code for the gate, and then I knocked at the front door. Phillip let me in.”
“And once inside, you beat him so severely that he required hospital treatment for a broken arm and multiple contusions. Apparently, he told the doctor that he had slipped on a wet floor.”
Deryn didn’t answer. Because any answer he gave would either be a lie or the end of his career. If he told the truth, it would be that he should have beaten Phillip harder.
“For God’s sake sit down, Deryn, and stop looking so constipated,” Glover said. “Just tell me what happened. I know Phillip Fromow is a nasty piece of work, but if he wants to press charges, which so far his wife says he doesn’t, I won’t have a choice. So, I need to know what’s going on.”
Deryn pulled a chair out from the desk and sat down, although he had no idea what to say.
Glover was a decent boss. She’d spent time mentoring him when he arrived as a newly minted DC, without any experience of being in uniform.
Coppers like him weren’t popular with men and women who had done years on the beat.
The thought of letting her down was one more vial of acid to add to the cauldron already boiling in his guts.
He stared down at his feet. The carpet was dusty and scuffed, and the legs of the desk looked as if they had done time in a skip.
Neither could help him formulate an answer.
The silence grew oppressive. Glover broke it.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to go home, and we are going to meet again this time tomorrow, at which point you are going to either tell me the truth or you’ll be on a disciplinary, and we’ll be talking about the rumours about you and local drug dealing.
And even that depends on Phillip Fromow sticking to his slipping-on-a-wet-floor story.
You’re a good detective with the potential to become a better one, but I can’t defend the indefensible.
Putting someone in hospital without good reason is indefensible. Do we have an agreement?”
Deryn nodded.
“Clear off then.”
Deryn pushed the chair back, smelling the dust as it rose from the carpet.
“Thank you,” he said, though at best, the extra day would give him time to put his affairs in order. So, instead of doing that, he drove up to Station Terrace, Cwmcoed and Brody for the second time that day.