Page 13 of Indefensible
“I called Mason’s sister. They were close growing up, so I thought it was worth a try. Apparently he used to email her every few days with bits of news. He told them I was coming, and that’s the last message she got. I honestly think Mason has been kidnapped. Mrs Davies next door was completely clear when she spoke to me — Mason was pushed into the car. And I called the Scout guy again. Pretty much everyone around here knew that Mason paid for the new Scout Hut. He used local contractors, so they know what he paid for it, too. There are rumours that he was going to pay for other stuff, like repairs to the swimming pool and the library. We need to find him.”
Deryn nodded, then yawned. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“Have you eaten?”
Deryn shook his head and immediately felt himself begin to wobble.
“Sit down. I’ll make you a sandwich. I’ve raided Mason’s freezer. Grilled cheese?”
A grilled cheese sandwich sounded heavenly, though by rights neither of them should be in this house. Still, he was probably going to have to resign in the morning, so he nodded. “Sounds great, thanks.”
The sandwich was fried rather than grilled, but it was delicious, and as he ate it, Murphy buttered more bread and made him another one.
“This is wonderful. I could kiss you for making it,” he said, between bites.
“Feel free,” Murphy answered and batted his eyelashes.
Deryn couldn’t help but blush, imagining what Murphy would make of his alter ego.
“Or not,” Murphy said with a shrug.
“I … er …” Deryn stammered.
Murphy came over to the sofa and sat next to Deryn, putting his hand on Deryn’s arm. It felt warm and somehow comforting. He realised with a start that it had been a long time since anyone had touched him. There were gay pubs and clubs in Cardiff and Bristol, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been. He was either working or sleeping, and anyway, Phillip already had enough ammunition without risking giving him more. He wasn’t going to kiss Murphy, but he wanted to kiss someone, to feel close to someone, feel their skin next to his. Or he might want to if he wasn’t so tired. He yawned again, and apologised.
“I should go home,” he said.
“But then you’ll miss the cold beer I found in the fridge.”
“I could drink a cold beer,” Deryn said.
The truth was he didn’t want to go home where his family could find him, and where Dee’s clothes would call from theirhiding place under the bed. And Brody was easy to talk to, comfortable to be around. Mason’s house was cosy in a way his flat was not. The cat was curled up on the back of the sofa, sliding down to slump on Deryn’s shoulder, then pulling himself up until gravity took hold again. At some point, Brody had activated the coffee machine, and there was the faint scent of fresh coffee in the air as well as some kind of cleaning product, which had been used on the floor to remove the blood and coffee stains. Any chance of forensic investigation of the house was now gone forever if it had ever existed. He leaned back, careful not to disturb the cat, and thought that if he, like Mason, had the chance for a new start, he would like to create this kind of interior, this kind of inexpensive comfort. But that almost certainly wouldn’t be happening. He wondered whether his sister had cleaned her expensively tiled floor, and felt a spike of fear at his family’s coming anger.
Brody handed him a cold bottle. Deryn looked at it and laughed. “This isn’t real beer,” he said, indicating the words “low alcohol” on the label.
Brody blushed. “Fucksake. This is not the Mason I know. Knew. That was why I was trying not to laugh at the meeting with the Scouts.” He took a drink from his bottle. “Tastes like real beer,” he said.
Deryn tried it. It did taste like beer, a combination of mellow and sharp. “I shouldn’t get drunk anyway,” he said. “I’m probably getting the sack in the morning. I don’t think a hangover will help my case.”
Brody stared at Deryn, eyes wide with shock. “Care to share?” he asked.
Did he? Brody was American. He’d be going home. More than that, Deryn wanted to talk to someone. It wouldn’t change the outcome of the meeting with DI Glover, or the revenge his family would exact for beating Phillip. But he hadn’t spokenhonestly about any of it, ever, to anyone. The cat felt heavy on his shoulder, and there was a dragging pain in his stomach from anxiety, but Brody felt somehowsafe.
“I know about being the bad boy at work,” Brody said. “I’m keeping out of the way until my bosses have calmed down. So, I understand how that feels.”
“You come from a family of criminals as well?” Deryn was pretty sure he knew the answer to this one, and it wasn’t “yes.”
Brody shook his head. “But you do,” he said and drank some more beer. Deryn couldn’t look at him.
“I do. And they paid for my flat, and my car … and I hate all of them and everything they do to the people in this village and the whole valley.” The anxiety had sparked back into life and was beginning to make him sweat. “I went round to my sister’s house tonight, and I think I broke my brother-in-law’s arm, and probably his nose and a couple of ribs, too, and I don’t regret it.” It was true. Whatever the consequences, hitting Phillip was something Deryn could live with easily. In fact, he would happily do it again. He heard movement and felt Brody’s hand grasp his own. “No, I mean it. He’s the one selling fentanyl, and it killed a boy I was at school with. Mrs Davies, who saw Mason leave, obviously thought my family abducted him, and they’ve got a big grey car. But Phillip denied it. My sister lives in this revolting house with electric gates and a pool, and I just can’t do it any more.”
Not perhaps the clearest statement, but Brody seemed to understand the essence.
“You think your boss is going to blame you for not snitching on your family?”
“Something like that,” Deryn said.
“So snitch. Give your colleagues enough to bring them all down, or even just your brother-in-law. You might lose your flat and have to buy a new car, but you’d keep your job if it gets thefentanyl off the streets and the chief can have a press conference saying how they are winning the war on drugs.”
