but he seems confident. We knocked on his door, asked him a few questions and explained that we wanted to impound his bike in conjunction with a murder investigation. He told the officers to go ahead, but they found the bike on the floor of his workshop in a hundred and sixteen pieces, fitted with a brand new set of tyres that’ll make it impossible to trace tyre tracks.’
‘Shit,’ Ross said, shaking his head. ‘What about the other Brigands, someone must know something?’
‘They’ll never speak to cops,’ Lindsay said.
Ross raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘But in this instance. I mean, two of their own people dead. A woman, two kids …’
‘Someone in the gang might have a problem,’ Lindsay acknowledged. ‘But if they do, they’ll deal with it within the club and the first we’ll know is when another body turns up. So, unless forensics find something spectacular, or an eye witness comes forward, I’d say that this case is going to hinge on the quality of Dante’s eye witness testimony. I just hope he’s not telling any fibs.’
‘I think he’s solid,’ Ross said. ‘Except for the bloody T-shirt.’
‘What T-shirt?’
‘Forensics found one of Dante’s T-shirts in a bush alongside the house,’ Ross explained. ‘It was covered in blood. I asked the boy and he said his friend Joe had a nosebleed while they were playing.’
‘So are they following the story up?’ Lindsay asked.
Ross sighed. ‘Joe is the Führer’s youngest son. Same age as Dante, same class at school. The thing is, the way the blood is spattered across the shirt it doesn’t look like any nosebleed that I ever saw. And when I mentioned it to Kate, she said that Dante had dried blood on his arm and under his fingernails when he got here. The doctor who examined him took swabs and photographs.’
‘Dammit,’ Lindsay cursed.
Ross shrugged. ‘I’m guessing he caught this Joe with his elbow or something and doesn’t want to tell me because he’s scared he’ll get into trouble for fighting.’
‘Most likely,’ Lindsay nodded. ‘But the fact that Dante lied undermines his credibility as a witness.’
‘Still,’ Ross said, ‘Dante’s given us an hour’s worth of testimony. I don’t think anybody will believe that an eight-year-old is capable of making up a story in that kind of detail.’
Lindsay shrugged. ‘Let’s hope, eh?’
‘What are we gonna do with Dante?’ Ross asked. ‘Did you get anywhere trying to track down a relative?’
Lindsay shook her head. ‘Scotty was a product of the care system. No known father, mother deceased. There’s an uncle, but he’s in Wandsworth prison and won’t be available for babysitting duties until 2011. On Dante’s mother’s side there’s one grandparent, but she’s in a psychiatric hospital and there’s no aunts or uncles.’
‘Shit,’ Ross said.
Lindsay shrugged. ‘A healthy boy with a tragic sob-story background and cute baby sister. They’ll get snapped up for adoption. I know it’s sad, but in the long run it’s probably better not being brought up by some biker scumbag.’
Ross nodded. ‘I was actually thinking about tonight. Dante’s the only witness. The Führer’s going to want him dead. We can’t have an eight-year-old living in a police station, but we’ve got to find somewhere safe.’
‘Could you deal with that?’ Lindsay asked. ‘Maybe take him under your wing for a few days, until we find a foster home in a safe location? You’re the only person he’s responded to. We’ll find a couple of nice rooms in a hotel.’
‘Sounds reasonable,’ Ross said. ‘I’m a London boy, so I’ve got to find a hotel anyway. I’d suggest somewhere at least an hour’s drive from Salcombe. I’ll need some shopping money as well. He’s got nothing except the clothes he’s standing up in.’
*
Every time Dante woke up he hoped it was a dream. He wanted to find himself back in his own bed with the floor piled with junk and
Learning to Kill: Stories