True Witness by Jo Bannister Read Free Book Online Page A

that right?”
    â€œYes,” said Deacon.
    â€œThere’s no mistake? You’re quite sure?”
    â€œI’m afraid so.” He steered Ennis into his office as if it hadn’t been his office until eight years ago. “Did you know him, then?”
    â€œOf course I know him!” George Ennis was an inch taller than Deacon and a lot of inches narrower, and if anything he looked younger than the day he retired. But he also looked
desperately troubled, his angular face creased with anxiety, his eyes stunned. “Knew him. I trained him, Jack. From when he was a scrawny little kid about thirteen years old. His mum sent him to me to keep him off the street, and the first time I saw him run I knew I had a champion. And now he’s dead.” He dropped into the chair recently vacated by Mrs Berry. “You’re sure? You are sure?”
    â€œGeorge, the boy’s mother ID’d the body. There’s no doubt.” The pieces were snapping together with a click. “She said something about him going to the gym. Your place?”
    Ennis nodded. Now the last hope was gone he slumped in his chair and sighed. “Yes. One of my star pupils, and as nice a kid as you could hope to meet. It’s an absolute tragedy.” He shook his head, still struggling to believe. “Can you tell me what happened?”
    Deacon told him everything he knew. He stopped short of telling him everything he suspected; but Ennis had no need to be cautious any more.
    â€œYou know who did this, don’t you?”
    Deacon bit his lip. “I have a good idea. But George – that’s not your business any more.”
    â€œI know.” Ennis straightened, pulling himself together by sheer force of will. “And I know it’s in safe hands. But – oh dear God, Jack, if I’d got him ten years ago Chris would be alive now!”
    â€œDamn it, George,” growled Deacon, “you can’t think like that. It isn’t fair on either of us. We did our best. We found the man responsible. It wasn’t our fault that the evidence didn’t satisfy the Crown Prosecution Service.”
    He let out a long, slow breath and leaned back in his chair. “And actually, that isn’t fair either. We couldn’t give them enough. If there’d only been some DNA. But whatever else Cochrane is, he’s not stupid. He was never overtaken by an irresistible urge. He planned carefully, meticulously. Well, maybe this time will be different. This time he didn’t have things all his own way.”

    Ennis was looking at him, the question he was reluctant to voice stinging in his eyes. “Did he … rape … Chris too?”
    Deacon shrugged, not unkindly. “I don’t know. The post mortem’s going on about now. Maybe not – he still had his clothes, maybe he got away before Cochrane could overpower him.”
    â€œIn that case there won’t be any forensic.”
    That was Deacon’s fear too. “George, we simply don’t know yet. He may have been in the Land Rover; he may even have been in the house. If he was there’ll be some evidence somewhere; and however little it is, we’ll find it.”
    But he was talking to someone who knew the pitfalls as well as he did. “We’re going to lose him again, aren’t we, Jack?” whispered Ennis. Behind rubbed lids his eyes were bitter. “We couldn’t get him ten years ago, and we’re not going to get him now. He’s too clever for us.”
    Deacon stumbled to his feet as if someone had kicked the chair from under him. “Don’t give me that! Nobody is that clever. Nobody is fireproof. Ten years ago we were unlucky. We did our damnedest, but we were unlucky. We scared him, though. We put him off trying again for ten years. How many boys have grown up safely in that time because of how close we got to him?
    â€œThis time it’s going to be different. We