Mark Pearson - Hard Evidence

'Tie it tighter, Andy.'

Andy tightened the rope that held the gag in place and pulled Wendy's mouth into a rictus grin. Like Billy Martin and Jackie Malone, Wendy's hands and feet had been tied with coat-hanger wire, wound round and twisted hard so that it bit cruelly into her tender flesh.

Walker patted Andy fondly on the head and smiled like a teacher watching a favourite pupil apply a lesson well learned. Andy tied off the knot on the rope, careless of any discomfort he was causing Wendy.

Walker looked around angrily as the shrill ringing of the phone echoed loudly in the hallway. He looked down at the large Sabatier chef's knife he held in his hand. Twelve inches of broad steel with a solid wooden handle.

'Time to put her away, Andy.'

The smile on Andy's face sent a chill through Wendy as her eyes, stark with fear, watched the steel blade rise. Roger had bought a set of them for her birthday one year. Something she had never forgiven him for. There were lots of things to forgive him for, she realised, lots of things over the years: too many golf trips with the boys, too many late business meetings, too many thoughtless comments, too many times she just wasn't noticed, or appreciated, or loved enough. Too many times she didn't feel special in his eyes. She never made her husband's eyes light up the way Delaney's did when he saw her sister, she knew that, but she loved her husband in her way, and in the terror of her situation she realised that even if she wanted to forgive him all those things, there wasn't any time left.

The phone rang again. Echoing off the quarry-stoned floor of the kitchen like an alarm.

Walker slashed down with the knife. Cold. Clinical.

Delaney clicked the red button on his mobile and selected another number.

'Sally, it's Delaney. Is Walker in the building?'

'He left a while ago.'

'You know where he was going?'

'He left a message for you, sir, if you phoned in.'

'What message?'

'He said that before you do anything rash, you should think of your daughter. I guess he's concerned about you.'

'Guess again. I think he's going to hurt Siobhan, Sally. Walker's been involved in this all along. He killed Eddie Bonner, or had him killed.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'I'm going to my sister-in-law's house. You know where it is?'

'You want me to get a team down there?'

'No,' he said sharply. 'I don't want anything rattling him. Don't do anything till I tell you to, okay?'

'Of course, sir.'

'I thought I told you not to call me sir.' Delaney snapped the phone shut and looked at Kate. 'Drive faster.'

Kate floored the accelerator and charged up the bus lane, bumping cars aside, regardless of the damage to her paintwork and the outrage of the other drivers. Delaney gazed ahead, his eyes fixed, staring into a future he would not countenance.

The young girl waved goodbye to her friend, who returned the wave through the rear window of the departing car. As she stood watching and waiting for the car to disappear from view, she pulled her New York Yankees baseball cap lower on her head and sang 'Clementine' quietly to herself. The cap was a present from her dad and the song was one of his favourites. He was always singing it, at least, so she presumed it was one of his favourites. And if the kids at school thought she was odd because she didn't wear a designer hat or sing the latest teeny pop idol song, she didn't care. All she cared about was making her dad happy again. Happy like he used to be when she was much younger. The memories of those times were blurred now, but she could remember his warm laughter as he hugged her mother. She could remember the smiles and the music, and now and again she saw flashes of it in his eyes when he laughed at one of her jokes or clapped when she sang him one of his favourite songs. She just wished she could put those moments on pause, like on the DVD player, and keep him happy like that for always.

The car turned the corner out of view and the young girl continued singing as she walked up the gravel path to her house, her head down, watching her feet as they scuffed through the raked stones.

The lock rattled, and Siobhan looked up, surprised to see the door open and a man standing in the hallway, smiling down at her, a wild-haired boy beside him.

'Hello?'

'Hello, Siobhan.'

'You're very pretty,' said the dark-haired youth, his smile revealing crooked teeth, a slash of ugly imperfection in the face of a gypsy choirboy.

Kate gunned the engine, spinning round the roundabout, cutting off someone on the inside and nearly losing control, but she was good, she righted her steering, accelerating again as she willed the traffic to part in front of her.

'Why do they do it, Jack?'

'Who?'

'People like my uncle.'

'Human nature.'

'It's evil. It's not human.'

Delaney's eyes glittered darkly. 'We're all capable of evil.'

Kate glanced at him and shook her head. 'You don't believe that.'

'People like your uncle get hold of children like Andy and do what they do to them because people like us let them.'

Kate looked angrily across at him. 'Don't say that!'

'Children are left on the street like garbage and we complain when the wrong people sweep them up. We trust people in authority and we turn a blind eye when that trust is abused in the worst kind of way. Teachers, policemen, social workers, priests…'

He trailed off. Kate flicked a glance across at him. 'You sound like you're talking from experience.'

Delaney didn't answer for a moment. 'I live with it every day, Kate. It's my job. Cleaning up the vermin that comes crawling out of the gutters when we treat people like garbage. Vermin like Billy Martin and your uncle.'

Siobhan stood in the doorway, reluctant to enter. Walker smiled at her, stroking the pad of his thumb along the scar on his cheek. 'It's all right, Siobhan, my name's Superintendent Walker, I'm your daddy's boss.' He pulled out his ID. 'This is my warrant card. You've probably seen your daddy's, haven't you, just like this?'

Siobhan nodded and looked at the card, then back at Walker.

'Is he in trouble, then?'

Walker laughed, a big fruity laugh. 'No, he's not in any trouble. Why don't you come in? This is Andy. He's a special friend of your dad's too.'

Siobhan smiled, reassured. 'Hello, Andy.'

'Hello.'

Siobhan walked into the hallway, slinging her satchel over a coat hook, and looked round, a little puzzled. 'Where's Aunty Wendy?'

Andy grinned. 'She's gone to the shops to get some lemonade.'

Walker smiled again. 'She won't be too long. Why don't you show me your room whilst we wait? I bet you've got some lovely toys.'

Siobhan shrugged. 'They're all right.'

In the cupboard under the stairs, Wendy whimpered, tried to cry out, telling Siobhan to run, but the gag in her mouth and the rope holding it in place meant she could do no more than make a small mewing sound. She kicked her legs in frustration, but it just dug the wire deeper into her flesh and pulled the rope tighter around her neck. There was no air in the cupboard and the heat was unbearable. She struggled to get some oxygen into her lungs and failed. Her eyes widened for a moment as she heard the footsteps on the staircase above her head, and then they lost focus and closed. Soon she didn't feel the pain in her side where the knife had punched and penetrated her tender flesh; she didn't feel the cruel constriction of her tortured throat. She didn't feel anything at all.

Kate pulled the car to a screeching halt outside Wendy's house. Delaney threw his door open and jumped out, followed by Kate, who shouted after him, 'Don't even think about telling me to wait out here.'

Delaney nodded and headed for the door, taking a key out of his pocket as he ran.