Impression (DI Gardener 4)

l. His expression was deadly serious.

“What’s he talking about, Gareth?” said Sally.

“I’ve no idea.”

Gardener could see that he had. The man was shaking, and the detective was worried that he still held the gun.

“Well, well, well,” said Reilly. “Are we finally getting to the truth about you, now?”

“Shut your mouth, Irishman, before I silence you all.”

“I doubt that, son,” said Reilly. “We’re all in different parts of the room, you’ll never get all of us.”

“So long as I get him, that’s all that matters to me,” said Summerby, levelling the gun at Rydell.

“Do that, and you’ll never find her daughter.”

“What the hell’s been going on, Gareth?” demanded Sally. “I want to know. I swear to God if you’ve put my daughter’s life at risk, I’ll kill you.”

They were all at it now, thought Gardener. It was definitely Sally’s daughter.

“I thought as much,” said Reilly. “What have you been up to that you want keeping a secret?”

“You’re a fine one to talk.” Summerby aimed the comment at Sally. “You’re as much to blame for this as I am. Sleeping around with your taxi driver friend.”

“How dare you?” shouted Sally. She took a couple of steps forward, and Summerby stopped her dead as he swung the gun from Rydell to her.

“Take one more step and so help me God, I’ll put you in the ground first.”

“Don’t tell me the big man’s deserted you already,” said Reilly, glancing at Gardener. “What did I tell you?”

“Shut it.” The gun was now pointing at Reilly.

“Come on, Gareth,” said Rydell, “tell us all about the night my sister Samantha went missing.”

“I don’t know anything about your sister!” shouted Summerby, the gun back on Rydell.

Gardener spotted the lie. Summerby’s world was falling apart before his eyes. His God certainly couldn’t help him now – or any of them, if he didn’t manage to diffuse the situation.

“In that case, I’ll finish what I started,” said Rydell. He glanced at Gardener. “You want the truth, I’ll tell you it. When it’s all over, I’ll walk peacefully out of here to your car, and you can do what you like with me.”

“I wouldn’t bank on it,” threatened Summerby.

Gardener glanced at him. “Put the gun down. The story is going to come out regardless. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

Summerby said nothing.

Rydell continued. “When I was eight years old, my father found me a job in a filling station. The garage belonged to a friend of his. I stayed there for three years, eventually working in the shop, checking stock, taking deliveries. They even let me work on the pumps now and again. My world imploded when I was eleven.

“I was left alone for fifteen minutes one night, whilst that garage owner cashed up and put the takings in the safe, ready for the bank the following morning. Samantha, my younger sister, was with me.” Chris smiled as he relived the moment, tears in his eyes.

“She thought she was helping. She was eating chocolate, mostly. All she was interested in was an old camera that my dad’s friend Patrick had given her the previous week. She took it everywhere with her, fascinated by the fact that it could produce pictures that slid out of the bottom.

“There were no customers in the shop, and we hadn’t seen anyone for over an hour. It was close to Christmas. The weather was dismal, foggy, cold. My mum and dad were out Christmas shopping. They were coming to get us before the garage closed.”

Rydell stopped, as if it was too hard to continue, but Gardener sensed it wasn’t that. The man was clearly in pain. He leaned forward and held his stomach, but before anyone could ask him anything, he continued.

“I only went to the toilet. I left Sam alone for five minutes – with her camera. Me and Patrick came back into the shop to find an open front door, an empty cash till, and no Samantha. Oh, and a pump that had delivered what was probably a full tank of fuel for someone.