The Silent Suspect by Nell Pattison (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud .TXT) 📗

fingers. The business appears to be above board, on the surface at least, but there have been rumours for quite a while about Chapman being dodgy.

Dodgy in what way? I asked.

Drugs, maybe prostitution, but the one I’ve heard the most about is his extortionate loans. He preys on vulnerable people, and lends them money at rates they’ll never be able to pay back.

I shook my head. And Lukas borrowed money from him?

So I believe, but I need him to confirm it.

I could tell Sasha was on edge, because her leg jiggled under the desk the entire time we were discussing it. It got worse the longer we waited to hear back from the police. To try and take her mind off it, I showed her my notebook and the questions I’d written down. She suggested I make a new page about Lukas’s debt to jot down anything we found out today. Before I did, I noticed her frowning at one of the notes I’d made: it was just one word, ‘bruises’, followed by several question marks.

I’m sure there’s an explanation, she told me.

I nodded, but didn’t answer. Unless Lukas actually broke his silence and told the police how he came to be black and blue on the night his wife had been murdered, I didn’t think it looked good for him.

Eventually, the phone rang. I answered and spoke to the officer on the other end; it wasn’t good news.

Lukas won’t see you, I told her.

What? The emotions on her face ranged from annoyed to confused, then she sighed. I had hoped he would have seen sense by now. I don’t think he’s doing himself any favours if he keeps this up.

I didn’t know what to say; I agreed with her, but there was no way to force him to cooperate with the police, and he didn’t have to see her if he didn’t want to. I was trying to think of a response when one of the frazzled-looking reception staff came into the room and trotted over to us.

‘There’s someone here to see Sasha,’ she told me. ‘A kid. I told him she was busy but he said he’d wait.’

‘A kid?’ My mind immediately went to Mariusz, and when I interpreted this for Sasha she agreed with me.

‘Yeah, a teenager. He’s in the family room,’ she told me, nodding in the direction of a little side room before hurrying back into the office, following the sound of a ringing phone.

Sasha and I went straight through; if Mariusz had come to see Sasha about his father, it must be important.

We were right about who the visitor was. When he saw us, Mariusz jumped slightly and sat up straight in his chair. Before then, he’d been lounging with his legs stretched out, feet up on the little table in the middle of the room. Even when he tried to pull himself up to his full height he didn’t look his age, and I wondered how often he had to prove he was sixteen.

Sorry, he signed, looking awkwardly between me and Sasha. I want to talk to you about my dad.

His signing was slow and a little jerky. I knew he must be used to communicating with Lukas this way, but nerves and unfamiliarity were probably affecting his signing with Sasha.

‘Do you want me to sign for Sasha, then you can concentrate on what you want to say?’ I asked him gently. I didn’t want him to think he wasn’t good enough, but it’s always easier to express yourself in your first language.

He nodded. ‘Okay.’ He looked back at Sasha and swallowed hard. ‘I want to help my dad. Mum says I can’t see him, and that I mustn’t talk to you or the police about him. She says I’m too young to understand it, but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’ His voice rose, and I could see a mixture of anger and frustration behind his eyes. ‘Maybe I can find out something, find out what happened to Nadia. It wasn’t Dad, I know it wasn’t.’

Sasha and I exchanged a look before either of us responded. We knew this was going to be a difficult task, giving Mariusz the space he needed to talk without leading him. I felt a bit uncomfortable talking to him in the first place, without a parent here. It was important that we let Mariusz talk, and then if he told us anything useful that we passed it on to the police straight away, so they could interview him formally. Of course, that was if Sasha was willing to talk to the police. I was starting to worry that she would do her best to prevent me sharing what we’d learnt with DS Singh, which was making me all the more inclined to talk to him myself.

Sitting forward in her chair and giving Mariusz a reassuring smile, Sasha tried her best to put him at ease.

Mariusz, you can tell us anything you know that you think is important, okay? But you know we’ll need to tell the police. They’re the only ones who can catch the person who killed Nadia, and get your dad out of prison.

Mariusz looked to me as Sasha was signing, so I interpreted for him. I thought the way Sasha worded it was a smart move – hopefully Mariusz would trust her enough to tell her what was on his mind.

The boy shuffled so he was sitting on his hands, and started rocking slightly, shaking his head.

‘I don’t know anything. My mum told me Nadia died before the fire started. I don’t know who killed her, but it wasn’t my dad. It can’t have been him; he loved her. He’d never hurt her. And he’d never leave me by going to jail.’ His voice was on the edge of breaking, and it cracked at the end of his sentence.

I understand you’re upset, Sasha told him. We want to help him too.

Mariusz’s eyes darted around the room and he started to bite his