Chapter Twenty Eight
T he problem with police interview rooms is that they’re so small, it’s impossible to walk off anger. Sophie tried to pace, but ended up looking ridiculous, so she slumped on the chair and let her anger ferment instead.
Anger at herself, at Tilly, at her father, her brother, at the world. Anger that bubbled and writhed inside her but that had no real target, because she didn’t know who to blame. She was angry and, she realized, scared. She didn’t know what was happening.
What she did know was that Tilly had been there. Tilly had looked her in the eye as she’d been arrested. No warning, no nothing. Just a bunch of idiot police showing up in riot gear like they were raiding a mob boss’s lair or something.
And then this. Nothing. Sitting in a room for hours on end with nothing to look at, no one to talk to, just her thoughts and nothing else.
When the door finally did open, Sophie whipped around, sure for a moment that it was going to be Tilly, sure that she was going to get a target for that anger and that sadness and that fear. But instead she saw Max’s familiar face.
“Tea?” he asked kindly.
“That’s it? That’s the best you’ve got? An offer of tea?” It wasn’t often that she felt Italian. Her mum hadn’t been around long enough for it to matter. But there were times when she felt very un-English, and this was one of them.
“Coffee?” Max tried.
Sophie glared at him and he nodded before quietly coming into the room and closing the door behind him.
“Why don’t you have a seat?”
For a second she considered not sitting, even thought about spitting at him. She was so angry. Max’s face was so familiar, but the tone of his voice wasn’t. He was firm, not to be argued with, business like. She came to a compromise; she kept glaring, but she took a seat.
“Right,” said Max, taking a seat himself. “First, I’m sorry that you’ve had to wait. There’s only two of us. I was busy interviewing your dad and, well, it didn’t seem appropriate for Constable Ware to be in here.”
Sophie felt her skin flush. She swallowed and said nothing. What would she have done if Tilly had walked into the room, she wondered.
“I needed to get more information from your dad before I came and talked to you,” Max went on. “But I think I’ve got the lay of the land more or less now.”
She wanted to protest, wanted to scream that she knew her dad and Gio hadn’t done anything. But the police had come. The police had seemed so sure, and now she was less sure. They hadn’t done anything, surely they hadn’t?
Her mouth was dry. She wished she’d accepted the tea now. “What happened?” They weren’t the words she wanted to use, but they were the ones that came out.
Max sighed. “Well, your dad and Gio are both protesting innocence, but that’s to be expected.”
Sophie stared at him, and he pressed his lips together and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he seemed to have come to a decision.
“Alright, let’s be honest with each other, shall we?”
“I never considered being anything else,” Sophie said because she really hadn’t. She was worried now, worried that maybe her dad and Gio had done something. She just couldn’t figure out what and how and the logistics of it all.
“Okay,” said Max. “In that case, your dad and Gio are both saying they haven’t done anything, and you’re backing them up. We, however, got solid proof that at least three stolen cars have been driven down that back lane toward the rear door of the garage.”
“Proof?”
“Video,” Max said. “Indisputable. That’s what gave us cause to come in like that.” He paused, collected his thoughts, and went on. “We found nothing in the garage.”
Sophie’s stomach jumped. Max held up a hand.
“But we found plenty in the storage shed behind the garage.”
“We haven’t used that place for years,” Sophie said without thinking. She sat up straighter. “Max, seriously. I don’t remember the last time I set foot in it.”
Max looked at her long and hard, and then grinned in relief. “I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he admitted.
“Like what?”
“That you didn’t know what was inside. It’s exactly what your brother said. And I believe you both. Your dad, on the other hand, was a bit less forthcoming.”
“He hasn’t been in there,” Sophie said, desperately racking her brains to think of answers. “The shed came with the garage, but dad and Gio can only work on so many cars at once. They keep two in the garage and then whatever else there is gets parked out front for convenience. No one goes in there, really.”
“That’s what your dad said,” said Max. “And then he admitted to renting the place out under the table.”
The truth suddenly all came together. Sophie closed her eyes and shook her head. The extra money that was lying around, her dad was collecting illegal rent. Property prices in Whitebridge were horrific. He’d have been raking it in. “Shit.”
“Perhaps,” Max said as Sophie opened her eyes. “Or perhaps not.” He eyed her. “I think the lot of you are telling the truth. You and Gio are innocent. Your dad’s guilty of being a bit stupid. But on the whole, I’ve found my chop shop but I haven’t found the car thieves.”
Sophie’s whole being filled up with relief. “So what happens now?”
Max scratched at his chin. “Your dad and Gio are staying here. At least overnight. We need to check out their stories. I want to make sure that there’s plenty of evidence of other people being in that shed. As soon as I’m comfortable, I’ll let them go. Though I’m expecting your dad to help with inquiries.”
Sophie sniffed at that. Max might be expecting it, but she didn’t think her dad would be thrilled with the idea.
“You can go though,” Max said. “Unless there’s anything you want to tell me?”
Sophie shook her head. “Nothing, except I’ve definitely not been in that shed for yonks. I’m sure the others haven’t either. And Gio and dad have definitely not been spending nights chopping up cars, I can swear to that.”
“Sure you can swear to that? You’ve been spending half your nights in my granny flat,” Max said, a little twinkle in his eye.
“Yeah, well, I won’t be any longer, will I,” Sophie said, standing up. “So I’m free to go then?”
Max looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just got up too. “Jules is here,” he said. “I thought you might want a bit of moral support, and she was bringing sandwiches from the pub for the boys anyway.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Max stopped by the door. “This is the second time you’ve been in the station this month,” he said. “Let’s not make a habit of it.” He opened up and Sophie walked out into the main station.
Jules was standing by the counter. “You free to go?”
“She’s free to go,” Max said. “Keep her out of trouble.”
He and Jules shared a look that Sophie caught but didn’t make immediate sense out of. Then she realized that they must be talking about her and Tilly and she felt a deep spike of pain in her insides. Tilly. She looked around but saw no sign of her.
“Come on then,” Jules said. “Want to stop for a pint on the way home?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Alright then, let’s get you back to yours, shall we?”
Jules looped her arm through Sophie’s and escorted her out into the crisp freshness of the evening. Sophie shivered and Jules held her closer.
“You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?” Jules asked.
“Not really.”
“Your dad and Gio gonna be alright?”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
They started to walk down the road, the fresh air on their faces. “And what about Tilly?” Jules asked, finally.
They kept walking, feet crunching on the pavement, the burning smell of autumn in their noses. “Tilly,” Sophie said eventually, even the name seeming hard to say and strange in her mouth.
“She was just doing her job,” said Jules.
“Yeah.” Sophie breathed the air in. It hurt to breathe. Was it supposed to hurt to breathe? She couldn’t remember. “I know she was.”
“So?”
“So nothing,” said Sophie. “It’s over.”
“But—”
“I really don’t want to talk about this.”
Jules sighed. “Yeah, alright. Sorry.” She pulled Sophie a bit closer so that their shoulders bumped as they walked. “Fancy a sausage sandwich when we get back?”
Sophie sighed. She wasn’t hungry, but Jules was trying to be nice. “Yeah, alright then.”
IT WAS STRANGE being in the house alone. It was quiet, too quiet, and Sophie almost wished that she’d asked Jules to stay. She couldn’t bring herself to go to bed alone, so she was lying on the couch, the TV playing silently as she lay there in the dark.
Everything was a mess in her head. She was angry at her dad for making stupid decisions. Angry at him for not telling her and Gio what he was up to. She was angry at herself for not being more aware of things, for not checking where the money was coming from.
Most of all, she was angry at Tilly.
She knew Tilly was doing her job; she knew that they had an agreement. But it didn’t seem to make any difference. Tilly had seen her be arrested. Tilly had stood there and watched it happen. She might not have wanted to, but she had.
It was just her job, a little voice in the back of Sophie’s head kept saying. But the problem was, the job would always be there. The job would always come first. Sophie didn’t know if she could deal with that.
And her family definitely couldn’t deal with it. She’d lied to them enough. It was over now. She’d taken her eye off them for all of a second and look what had happened. Her dad and Gio were both spending the night at the police station.
No, this all had to come to an end now. It had already come to an end.
It was over.