Stephen Leather - Nightshade

‘In what way?’

‘I need to know if there’s anything known. That’s all.’

‘Of course he’s known. He’s a multi-millionaire lawyer. He works for the CPS from time to time. What specifically are you looking for?’

Nightingale sighed. ‘You’ll think I’m crazy.’

‘That horse bolted a long time ago,’ said Robbie. ‘Spit it out.’

‘He’s a child molester. A paedophile.’

Robbie was drinking his wine when Nightingale spoke and he almost choked. ‘What?’

‘I want to know if he’s ever been implicated in anything like that.’

‘Bloody hell, Jack. If he had, he’d hardly be working with the CPS, would he?’

‘If it was hushed up, maybe.’

‘If it was hushed up, it won’t be in the system.’

‘It might.’

‘What’s going on, Jack? Is Fairchild on the thumb drive? Is he one of the guys in the photographs?’

‘Not that I can see. And I don’t see his name on the email list either. Could be a disguised email address of course, but no, I’ve no evidence that he’s involved in the Berwick abuse. But he did tell me that he worked on a paedophile case a while back.’

‘So this is separate? Something else?’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘And what exactly do you think he’s been doing?

‘Okay, what I’m going to tell you is going to sound crazy. Hell, it is crazy. But it’s the absolute truth and you have to believe me.’

‘You’re starting to worry me now, mate.’

‘Marcus Fairchild has been abusing Jenny since she was a kid. And he still is.’

Robbie stared at him in amazement. ‘By abusing you mean what, exactly?’

‘Sexual abuse.’

‘Jenny told you this?’

Nightingale shook his head. ‘She doesn’t know.’

‘But you do?’

‘Yes. I know it for an absolute fact.’

‘So report him.’

‘I can’t prove it.’

‘You know it’s a fact but you don’t have any proof?’

‘That’s pretty much it, yes.’

‘You’re right.’

‘I’m right?’

‘You’re right. It sounds crazy.’

Nightingale drew smoke into his lungs and held it there.

‘What’s going on, Jack?’ asked Robbie.

‘I’m trying to protect Jenny.’

‘From abuse that she doesn’t know about?’

‘He’s been doing it for years,’ said Nightingale.

‘And she doesn’t know? That’s ridiculous.’

‘He uses hypnotism or suggestion or some drug or other. And he’s part of a group called the Order of Nine Angles that carries out human sacrifice. They kill children.’

‘Now you’re really starting to worry me, Jack. You’re talking about one of the most respected lawyers in the country.’

‘It’s true, Robbie. When Jenny told him that I was working the Berwick case he came rushing to my office to find out what I knew. There was stuff about the Order of Nine Angles in McBride’s barn and Fairchild was desperate to pour scorn on it. Said it was an urban myth.’

‘He didn’t want you looking at it?’

‘That’s what I figured. Look, I know he’s got powerful connections. But there’s a good chance that some of those connections are in it with him.’

‘And you think that a quick look at the Police National Computer is going to blow the whole thing wide open?’

‘Of course not.’

‘So what do you expect me to do?’

‘When you put it like that, I’m not sure.’ He took a final drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt away.

Robbie glared at him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What’s Anna going to say if she finds your old cigarette butts on the lawn? You pick it up, you soft bastard.’

Nightingale laughed and went to retrieve the butt. He slipped it into his pocket.

‘And even if by some miracle I do find something out, what then?’ said Robbie. ‘Who do you go to with something like that? He’s Establishment, through and through. It’ll have to be at Commissioner level to stand any chance of moving forward.’

‘I can’t just leave it, Robbie. I have to do something.’

‘And you can’t tell me why you’re so sure he’s a paedophile and child-killer?’

Nightingale shook his head.

‘It’s something to do with all that spooky stuff you’re always getting involved in?’

‘Pretty much, yes. The only way I can think of to prove it to Jenny is to have her undergo hypnosis, hypnotic regression or something. But if I do that, it’ll destroy her. She loves the guy. Trusts him totally. I don’t think I can do that to her. But I can’t let him continue to do what he’s doing.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I had this crazy idea that you could come up with something that would open the whole thing up.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ said Robbie. ‘I’m sorry. But if you want me to look at the PNC, I can do that. But I’ll have to do it under someone else’s log-in because there’s a good chance it’ll be red-flagged.’

‘No, you’re right. There’s no point. If I’m going to do something, it’ll have to be more decisive.’

Robbie turned to look at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Best you don’t know. Or at least best I don’t say.’

‘Don’t do anything stupid, Jack.’

‘Since when have I ever done anything stupid?’ said Nightingale, straight-faced. He managed to hold it for a few seconds before both men burst into laughter.

Anna appeared at the back door. ‘What are you two laughing at?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Robbie.

‘Well, come and get your coffee.’

Robbie patted Nightingale on the back as they headed into the kitchen. ‘Whatever you decide to do, be careful,’ he said.

‘Careful is my middle name.’

‘I thought danger was your middle name.’

Nightingale grinned. ‘Changed it by deed poll.’

Anna appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Do you two guys want to stay out there all night or are you going to come in for coffee?’

‘Coffee sounds good,’ said Robbie. He patted Nightingale on the back. ‘Seriously, mate, you be careful.’ They walked back to the house together. Nightingale knew that his friend was right. He had to be careful. But he had to do something about Marcus Fairchild. Something drastic.

The telephone rang and Sandra Harper went to answer it. Bella was sitting next to her father on the sofa watching television. Will Harper was eating Kentucky Fried Chicken but Bella’s lay untouched on her plate.

Sandra picked up the phone, listened to whoever called and then said: ‘No, we’re not interested. And please don’t call again.’ She replaced the receiver and scowled at her husband. ‘Bloody journalists. That was the Mirror . They just won’t give up.’

‘I don’t know why you answer the phone,’ said her husband. ‘They’re just about the only people who call on the landline. I told you we should have gone ex-directory.’

‘We did go ex-directory, last week,’ said Sandra. She squeezed onto the sofa next to Bella. ‘Are you not hungry?’

Bella shook her head. ‘I had a big lunch at school.’

‘Yeah? What did you have?’

‘Pizza.’

‘Do you want pizza now? I can order one for you.’

‘Mum, I’m fine.’ Sandra leaned closer to her daughter and sniffed. Bella turned away. ‘Mum, don’t fuss.’

‘Are you cleaning your teeth?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your breath smells bad. Really bad.’

‘I’m cleaning my teeth, Mum.’

‘If your breath isn’t better in a day or two I’m going to take you to the dentist.’

‘Okay, okay.’

Sandra leaned over and took a drumstick off her husband’s plate and bit into it.

‘Mum, why don’t you want me to talk to the journalists?’