Page 94 of Worth the Wait
“Yeah,” Nathan said, voice rough. “I understand.”
He gave them his full name and date of birth, words coming out like gravel. His throat was dry. He wanted water. He wanted to be anywhere else but here.
DS Bowen took over, her tone gentler but no less direct. “You’re being interviewed under caution. You do not have to say anything—”
He finished the line in his head before she could.But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court.He’d heard it before. Once as a lad. Once again in the army, sitting in on briefings during joint ops. Never like this. Never for something that could land him in that court.
Carrick leant forward. “Mr Carter, could you start by telling us where you were on the night of April twentieth, at approximately nine p.m.?”
Nathan took a steady breath, the words catching in his throat before he forced them out. “I was at Henley Crescent.”
Carrick gave a small nod. “And what took you there?”
“I was following my son.”
Bowen glanced up from her notebook. “Alfie Carter?”
Nathan nodded. “That’s right.”
A brief silence stretched as Bowen and Carrick exchanged a look.
Bowen took over. “What was your son doing at Henley Crescent?”
“I don’t know,” Nathan said plainly. “That’s why I was following him. I didn’t trust where he said he was going.”
“And what had he told you?”
“Said he was nipping out to see a mate from school. Something about homework.”
“And you didn’t believe him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Nathan tilted his head. “Couple reasons. One, he doesn’t reallydohis homework. Two, he hasn’t been at that school long enough to have a mate who gives a shit about doing theirs. Three, kids these days don’t go round each other’s houses to talk maths. They’ve got phones. Group chats. Apps. Whole digital worlds.” He paused, voice tightening. “But mostly? He’s a crap liar. Gets twitchy. Won’t meet my eye. He was cagey as hell. I figured he was sneaking off to smoke, maybe back to the skatepark, when I told him he weren’t to set foot near the place.”
Carrick’s voice cut in, calm but pressing. “So you followed him. And he led you to Henley Crescent.”
“That’s right.”
“Did you recognise number fourteen?”
“I knew of it. Used to live round here. Knew a few lads who ended up in places like that.”
“So you were aware of the property your son was entering?”
“I didn’t know exactly what he was walking into. But I knew what hewasn’tdoing. And that was his bloody homework.”
Carrick pulled out a grainy photo. Passed it over. “Is that you, Mr Carter?”
Nathan glanced down. Grainy black and white. Him and Alfie, caught mid-run, ducked low through the alley, faces blurred but unmistakable. No point lying.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s me.”
“Were you aware the property was under active surveillance at the time?”
“No.”
