Page 117 of Ink's Devil

I sit back and fold my arms, preparing myself. Have they found more evidence they can twist and use to stitch me up?

Barker doesn’t look as full of himself as he had two days ago. He sounds tired, when he states, “Fender Childs. What’s your relationship with him, Mr McNeish?”

“I don’t know the man. Never heard his name before you brought it up last time.” Nope. They’re not going to trip me up and make me contradict myself.

“Do you know this man?” He slides a photo across the desk.

I take it and study it, keeping any emotion from my face as my mind whirls fast wondering how much to admit. I decide to go with the truth. “It’s Connor Foster,” I say at last. “I’m pretty certain, though I only met him briefly once that time I went to Beth’s house.” Staring at the photo I realise how similar the siblings are. Same height and same facial features, though Beth’s are softer and more feminine.

“Was that the man you took the drugs from that night?” Barker asks.

I stare at the photo again. I have a moment of guilt before I speak next. He might not have been there, but it was his drugs in that bag. He deserves to be locked up far more than me or his sister. “It was dark,” I begin. “I couldn’t see his features. But from the build it’s very likely. How tall is he? The man who was there was almost as tall as me. And slender. But I couldn’t swear to it.”

Barker looks down at his notes. “Foster is six foot three.”

“Then quite possibly.”

“There’s a good chance?” he presses.

I shrug. “As I said, I didn’t get a look at his face and might not be able to pick him out in a line-up, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

“But you definitely saw Connor Foster at Ms Foster’s house?”

“I did.”

The detectives exchange glances.

It’s Sykes who makes the suggestion, “If Connor Foster was seen at Ms Foster’s house, then he would have had the opportunity to take Ms Foster’s rucksack.”

They remain impassive, but what he’s said makes sense.

“Fender Childs has been talking,” Hastings suddenly speaks. “He’s told us he was to pick up a package that had been in the possession of Connor Foster.”

Fender’s been spilling everything? That’s music to my ears as he has nothing to implicate me or my brothers.

“I take it you’ve made a plea bargain with him?” Sykes question is also an explanation.

Again, they make no comment.

My lawyer, though, speaks, “Have you spoken to Mr Foster?”

Barker presses his lips together. “Connor Foster is apparently dead. His death certificate, dated last Sunday, came up when we searched for his name.”

“What?” The question’s surprised out of me.Beth will be in pieces. Anyone would be, even if they were estranged. Losing a blood relative isn’t easy. Her mom will be beside herself. Fuck that I can’t be there to support them and help. “How?”

“He was beaten and stabbed. Died of his injuries.”

Briefly I wonder whether the club had had a hand in it but dismiss that fast. If they’d tortured and killed him for a part he played in getting me arrested, no one would ever find his body.

I suppress a smile at how frustrated these detectives must be. They’ve made a bargain with Fender Childs, but the only person he’s presumably fingered, has turned up dead. I’d laugh if I could get away with it. Then my mental amusement fades.Connor dead?Oh, Beth, you’ve lost so much. All I want to do is be there and hold her. But it’s impossible. Fuck.

Sykes taps the table. “I can’t see how you’ve got any case against my client. Any jury or judge would agree that it was more likely Connor Foster took the rucksack from his sister’s house. He was the one who brought the bag to the drop, and Mr McNeish’s story holds water. Mr McNeish scared Connor Foster off and was taking the bag and contents to the cops, having made the reasonable assumption that anything being brought to that location on that night was likely to be something the police would be very interested in, the police who I’ll remind you, Mr McNeish was very aware of being close that night.”

I know they are going to argue.

But they don’t. Barker looks at Sykes rather than me. “We are not intending to proceed with bringing any charges against your client at this point in time.”

What?I shake my head fast in case my ears need clearing.

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