didn’t.”
“Where did you go after she slapped you?”
The thick black brows frowned and tightened over the blue eyes. “There was a thunderstorm.” He attempted a sheepish grin. “Got to confess — storms like that scare the fucking shit out of me. Lightning always frightened me as a kid. Does still now.
“I came across an empty barn, ducked into it and woke up there on Maddocks’ farm, early in the morning.” He hesitated, and laughed. “Then I heard noise, vehicles, voices and a lot of activity close by going on the fields close by. I took a look out and saw a police car nearby.” He shuffled his trainers again then looked at Fowler again.
“So what did you do next, Macey? Do a runner?” Peale chipped in smartly.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to get arrested for trespass on top of everything else. I managed to sneak out while Ted Maddock was talking to some of your uniformed officers. Didn’t know what the hell was going on and I made my way back up the hill to the camp in case it had to do with us. Thought you were going to turn us out. And that’s it.”
“And you expect us to believe this load of bollocks?” Peale said leaning over him with a sneer on his thin face.
“Yeah! It’s the truth!”
“You’ve had all this time to think it out. And you’ve got no alibi for the time after Sandra left you, boyo.”
Macey shrugged. “So what! And neither has Martin Robbins.”
It was at that moment when the community policeman Constable Powell came in through the open door with a protesting, tousled haired youngster in tow. He pushed him over towards Fowler.
“He says he found it in a ditch. A knife, sir. This kid took it to the school to show it to his mates. And his teacher found it this morning in his school bag and contacted me as I was passing the school on my bike.”
The red faced boy stood facing his accusers as the object was held up in the plastic bag.
Macey looked interested but said nothing.
“Do you recognize this, Macey? Is it yours?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be. If it has an inscription in Latin on the hilt, it’s mine.”
Fowler and Peale left Macey, as they escorted the boy into a separate interview room.
“Where did you find it, kid?”
The constable pushed the reluctant boy closer towards Fowler.
“Come on now, speak up, lad. This is Detective Chief Inspector Fowler and Detective Sergeant Peale. Tell them where you found it. And why you didn’t hand it in here like you should have done.”
Peale said, “What’s your name? Come on, lad, speak up?”
The boy gulped. “Michael Harper. I saw it lying in a ditch when I overturned my mountain bike. An’ there was another bike in there. Meant to go back for it afterwards. I wanted to see what was going on in the crop circle field when I saw the police cars and such-like,” he added truculently.
“Why didn’t you hand it over to the police there and then, lad? You must have seen the police officers searching around the field,” Fowler said as the boy’s face flushed crimson.
“Couldn’t,” he muttered. “I was late for school see. And it’s the last week before the summer break. We were going to give a party for our teacher, Miss Chorley, who’s leaving. An’ I just forgot it for a bit.”
Forgot it my foot . Fowler sighed and studied the boy’s anxious face as he fidgeted on the spot. Fingerprints would be a lost cause. Much too late now. How many times had it been handled since the blood stains on it were fresh? Too bloody many. He winced at this thought.
“Is there anything else, Michael? Anything else at all you want to tell us?”
The boy’s cheeky face reddened afresh, and he looked sheepish. “There’s something else. I heard it ringing out loud. An’ it startled me. That’s what made me overturn my bike into the ditch,” he said bringing out a cell phone from his pocket. He hastened to add, “I haven’t used it.”
Peale took it from him. “Somebody’s been texting on
“Where did you go after she slapped you?”
The thick black brows frowned and tightened over the blue eyes. “There was a thunderstorm.” He attempted a sheepish grin. “Got to confess — storms like that scare the fucking shit out of me. Lightning always frightened me as a kid. Does still now.
“I came across an empty barn, ducked into it and woke up there on Maddocks’ farm, early in the morning.” He hesitated, and laughed. “Then I heard noise, vehicles, voices and a lot of activity close by going on the fields close by. I took a look out and saw a police car nearby.” He shuffled his trainers again then looked at Fowler again.
“So what did you do next, Macey? Do a runner?” Peale chipped in smartly.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to get arrested for trespass on top of everything else. I managed to sneak out while Ted Maddock was talking to some of your uniformed officers. Didn’t know what the hell was going on and I made my way back up the hill to the camp in case it had to do with us. Thought you were going to turn us out. And that’s it.”
“And you expect us to believe this load of bollocks?” Peale said leaning over him with a sneer on his thin face.
“Yeah! It’s the truth!”
“You’ve had all this time to think it out. And you’ve got no alibi for the time after Sandra left you, boyo.”
Macey shrugged. “So what! And neither has Martin Robbins.”
It was at that moment when the community policeman Constable Powell came in through the open door with a protesting, tousled haired youngster in tow. He pushed him over towards Fowler.
“He says he found it in a ditch. A knife, sir. This kid took it to the school to show it to his mates. And his teacher found it this morning in his school bag and contacted me as I was passing the school on my bike.”
The red faced boy stood facing his accusers as the object was held up in the plastic bag.
Macey looked interested but said nothing.
“Do you recognize this, Macey? Is it yours?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be. If it has an inscription in Latin on the hilt, it’s mine.”
Fowler and Peale left Macey, as they escorted the boy into a separate interview room.
“Where did you find it, kid?”
The constable pushed the reluctant boy closer towards Fowler.
“Come on now, speak up, lad. This is Detective Chief Inspector Fowler and Detective Sergeant Peale. Tell them where you found it. And why you didn’t hand it in here like you should have done.”
Peale said, “What’s your name? Come on, lad, speak up?”
The boy gulped. “Michael Harper. I saw it lying in a ditch when I overturned my mountain bike. An’ there was another bike in there. Meant to go back for it afterwards. I wanted to see what was going on in the crop circle field when I saw the police cars and such-like,” he added truculently.
“Why didn’t you hand it over to the police there and then, lad? You must have seen the police officers searching around the field,” Fowler said as the boy’s face flushed crimson.
“Couldn’t,” he muttered. “I was late for school see. And it’s the last week before the summer break. We were going to give a party for our teacher, Miss Chorley, who’s leaving. An’ I just forgot it for a bit.”
Forgot it my foot . Fowler sighed and studied the boy’s anxious face as he fidgeted on the spot. Fingerprints would be a lost cause. Much too late now. How many times had it been handled since the blood stains on it were fresh? Too bloody many. He winced at this thought.
“Is there anything else, Michael? Anything else at all you want to tell us?”
The boy’s cheeky face reddened afresh, and he looked sheepish. “There’s something else. I heard it ringing out loud. An’ it startled me. That’s what made me overturn my bike into the ditch,” he said bringing out a cell phone from his pocket. He hastened to add, “I haven’t used it.”
Peale took it from him. “Somebody’s been texting on
Similar Books
