Neil White 3 Book Bundle

‘But Billy is dead now.’

Charlie sighed. ‘I’m sorry, but the Law Society won’t see it like that.’

Ted looked down at that, and suddenly Charlie felt shitty. He leant forward.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but what did you expect me to say?’

‘You know things about how my daughter died,’ Ted said quietly, still looking at the floor. ‘When Billy was alive, I didn’t have to think about you, but now he is, well, you are all I have left.’ He looked up. ‘I know things that I’ve been told, but not the full story, and that’s what I need to know. I won’t tell anyone.’ Then he shook his head, answering his own query. ‘This was a stupid idea. I’ll go,’ and he stood as if to leave.

Charlie shook his head. ‘Sit down. Finish your drink.’

Ted looked at him unsure, and so Charlie said, ‘I don’t know anything about Alice’s death. Amelia looked after Billy Privett in relation to Alice’s case. She knew it would get media attention and we decided that she would be better for the interviews.’

Ted looked dejected, and for a moment, despite the boozy fog, Charlie saw his turmoil, that he just wanted answers.

‘I can tell you one thing, if it makes you feel any better,’ Charlie said.

Ted looked at him, expectant.

‘I have never heard anything from Amelia that suggested that Billy killed your daughter. I don’t know what part he did play, but if he murdered your daughter, he didn’t blurt it out to Amelia.’

Ted considered that for a moment, and then said, ‘Do people ever lie to their lawyers?’

Charlie smiled ruefully and took a drink. When he put his glass down, he replied, ‘All the time, Mr Kenyon. All the fucking time.’

Ted sighed and got to his feet. Charlie could tell that he wasn’t going to hang around anymore.

‘Thank you for your time, Mr Barker.’

‘It’s Charlie,’ he said.

Ted nodded at that but didn’t answer, and then turned to go.

Once Charlie was alone again, he looked at the full glass Ted had left behind and then wondered about what thoughts he was taking home with him. He could only guess at the injustice he must feel every time he woke up. Then Charlie thought of how he must have looked to Ted, drunk on a Monday night. Charlie felt the creep of self-pity, knowing that he was just avoiding an empty house.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He thought again about calling Julie, but stopped himself. He put his phone away and tried not to think about her. Instead, he picked up his glass.

He would have just one more and then go home.

Chapter Eighteen

The night crept into early morning as John did what Henry had asked him: be a lookout. He had spent the evening sitting in a plastic chair with one of the old man’s shotguns in his lap. He had watched the night turn dark, the spread of stars take over the valley sky and the hill opposite turn into silhouette, just the occasional bleat of a sheep or the sweeping beam of a car interrupting the solitude.

Henry had left the house again, along with Arni, Gemma and the new woman, Lucy, all out for some fun. The ones who were left behind had been drinking home brew, some mixture Arni made from potato peelings that burned John’s throat, along with whatever the group had managed to steal on outings. People were sprawled on the floor, on cushions, glasses next to them, smoke drifting from ashtrays.

There was the sound of an engine. John got to his feet, his hand gripped around the shotgun. Was this what Henry had talked about, people coming for them? Then he relaxed as the engine noise got closer and he recognised the rattle of the Transit van. As he watched it approach, the headlights were off, and there was laughter coming from an open window.

Dawn appeared behind him and handed John a spliff. He took a long pull, grinned as that leaden feeling crept through his body. As the van rumbled to a halt, everyone jumped out, Henry from the passenger seat, Gemma and Lucy from the back. Lucy was carrying the face masks. Five of them, one for each of them and a spare.

Henry walked quickly, and he looked restless, excitable, wide eyed.

‘How was it?’ John said.

Henry didn’t speak at first. He just walked quickly to the living room, accompanied by the crackle of logs and the smoke that drifted in the light from candles flickering in each corner. John followed, and everyone sat upright when they saw Henry, who paced up and down and rubbed his hands, his gaze filled with concentration.

‘Henry?’ John said, smiling now at Henry’s excitement.

‘It was exhilarating,’ Henry said, grinning. ‘But we need to be careful. We have just brought everything closer. There’s not much left of tonight, and so we need to party.’

Whispers went round the room.

‘So where did you go?’ John asked. ‘Why have you brought everything closer?’

Henry shook his head. ‘When the truth needs to be told, it will be told. Have faith in me, that’s all you need right now.’ He hopped onto a stool at one end of the room and snapped his fingers. John went over to pass him the spliff. As he got close, Henry moved quickly. His hands clasped the back of John’s neck and pulled him in, so John could smell the staleness of his breath. ‘No more questions, John. There are too many.’

John nodded, wincing at the grip. ‘I just want to know things, that’s all. For me, it’s all new. I’m not questioning you, Henry. I feel something here, like a bond, a brotherhood, but I don’t know everything about us. I want to know everything.’

Henry sucked hard on the spliff in his hand, so that John’s eyes stung from the smoke and the tip glowed hot close to his skin. Gemma appeared alongside him, and so Henry passed the spliff to her.

‘What do you think we are about?’ Henry said. Smoke seeped through his grin and his hand relaxed on John’s neck.

John stepped back. Henry’s words seemed slow to him, as if he couldn’t process them quickly enough, and the people in front of him seemed to sway. He looked down for a moment. His head felt heavy. ‘We are what you said – that we are a freedom movement, where there will be new rules, and the rule will be that there are no rules. And I believe that Henry, I really do, but I need more answers.’

John thought he saw Gemma tense, but when Henry grinned, she relaxed.

‘You know why we came for you,’ Henry said. ‘Because you shared our ideals. I remember what you sprayed on the walls. That was a cry for help, and we heard you.’

‘What made you first think like you do?’ John said.

‘Just a developing truth. It is something you feel, but then things happen that makes it clearer, that the little mutters you hear rise above the doubts and you begin to understand the message you’ve always heard. The world was changing, and when I wondered why, I realised that I had the answers all along, had always known them. I first knew it back on the eleventh September.’

‘The Twin Towers?’

Henry nodded. ‘What do you think happened?’

‘Two planes flew into them. I saw it.’

‘You saw what they wanted you to see,’ Henry said, shaking his head. ‘You saw the planes, but that’s just deflection, because you saw just the obvious. Who was flying the planes?’

‘Terrorists. Islamists.’

‘Why? Because they told you? Corporation USA? And you accepted that?’ Henry laughed. ‘It’s bullshit, man. Half the hijackers are still alive, working in other countries. One is a pilot in Saudi Arabia. And what evidence have they produced? A charred passport below the towers? What about the flames it went through, the crash? What did it do, just fall out of his pocket?’ Henry gripped John’s shoulder. ‘It’s crap, all of it. People made money on the stock exchange on those airlines just before the crash, betting that the stocks would go down. People knew, John.’

Henry let go and whirled around, animated now. ‘Look at the Pentagon, just over the river from the centre of the Western world, but there are no cameras anywhere showing a fucking jet flying at ground level. And we’re supposed to believe that someone could hit the Pentagon, which isn’t a high building, after a few lessons in a tiny plane and playing computer games? Come on, John, that’s precision flying. The hole in the Pentagon wasn’t big enough for a plane. They were on long-distance flights and had just set off, but the rooms around the site don’t show fire damage. They were filled with fuel, kerosene, which goes up like a fucking bomb, and what do you get, apart from a hole? Nothing, that’s what. It was a missile, John, and it was the beginning of the end, and I saw that. Everything came together that day for me.’

‘But I saw the planes, on television.’

‘You saw planes, but you didn’t see the passengers. If they can send a probe to a dot on Mars, they can fly planes into high buildings, by remote control. It was like the veil slipping away and I saw everything with such clarity.’ He stroked his beard. ‘Look at everything since. What did we do? We used it to invade other countries, to take over oilfields, and faith turns on faith, West against East. They told lies to spread their power, but people fought back. They thought it would be easy, but it wasn’t, and now it is our turn to fight back, because all they fought for has crumbled. The banks, the money men. All busted.’