Hidden in Plain Sight (Detective William Warwick 2)

“Be my guest. He’s in number two,” said the sergeant, filling in an empty box on the custody record. “Refused breakfast this morning. We might get him in front of the magistrate later this afternoon, so he’s not going anywhere fast.”

“That’s good, because I was hoping to have an intel chat with him unconnected with the offense he’s been arrested for.”

“Fine, but keep me briefed, so all the paperwork’s in order.”

“Will do,” said William, as the desk sergeant handed him a large key and said, “He’s all yours.”

William took the key, walked along the corridor and stopped in front of cell number two. He peered through the grille to see Adrian lying down, a glazed expression on his face, and looking as if he hadn’t moved since last night. He turned the key in the lock, pulled open the heavy door, and walked in. Adrian opened his eyes, looked up, and said, “This place isn’t much better than our old prep school.”

William laughed as he sat down next to him on the thin, urine-stained mattress. I’m innocent, had been scratched on the wall above Adrian’s head by a previous prisoner.

“I’d offer you tea and biscuits,” said Adrian, “but I’m afraid room service isn’t that reliable.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” said William.

“Nor you your quest to be Sir Galahad. So, have you come to rescue me, or to lock me up for the rest of my life?”

“Neither. But I might be able to help you if you felt willing to cooperate.”

“What would you expect in return? Because I’ve never believed in the old boys’ network.”

“Me neither,” said William. “But I might have something to offer that could prove mutually beneficial.”

“You’re going to supply me with drugs for the rest of my life?”

“You know that’s not going to happen, Adrian. But I could ask the magistrate to be lenient when your case comes up this afternoon, despite this not being your first appearance in the dock.”

“That’s not much of an offer. I’ll probably only get six months anyway, and there are worse places to be than holed up in your own cell with a TV, central heating, and three meals a day, not to mention a ready supply of drugs.”

“As this is your third offense, you’re more likely to be spending Christmas sharing a cell in Pentonville with a murderer, which might not be quite so much fun.”

“Come on then, Choirboy, surprise me.”

It was William who was surprised. “Choirboy,” he repeated.

“That’s what my old friend Sergeant Roycroft called you last night. A great improvement on Sherlock, I thought.”

William tried to regain the initiative. “As you clearly know what I’ve been up to since we last met, how about you?”

Adrian stared up at the ceiling for a long time, as if his interrogator wasn’t there. An old con’s trick, William knew. He was about to give up and leave when suddenly a torrent of words came flooding out.

“After my expulsion from Somerton, thanks to you, my old man used his influence to get me into one of the minor public schools. They were willing to turn a blind eye whenever I needed a quick drag behind the bicycle shed, but they drew the line when I moved on to cannabis. Can’t say I blame them.” He paused, but still didn’t look at William, who had taken out his pocket book and begun to make notes.

“After that, my father sent me to a crammer, and I somehow got offered a place at a university a long way from home. Heaven knows how much the old man had to stump up for that little favor.” Another long pause. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get beyond my freshman year after one of the postgrads introduced me to heroin. It wasn’t too long before I was hooked, and spent most days in bed, and most nights wondering how I’d get my next fix. After I was rusticated, my tutor told me I could resume my studies if I kicked the habit, so my father sent me off to one of those rehab centers that are full of do-gooders who want to save your soul. Frankly, my soul was no longer worth saving, so I signed myself out at the end of the first week, and I haven’t spoken to the old man since. I stayed in touch with my mother, and she kept me afloat for a couple of years. But even her patience eventually ran out, and probably her money, so I had to find other ways to get hold of the cash I needed to survive. It’s quite difficult to continually try and borrow money from your friends, when they know you have no intention of ever paying them back.”

William continued to take notes.

“But after I met Ma

ria I checked myself back into the clinic, and tried a little harder.”

“Maria?”

“My girlfriend. But she was never convinced I’d really kicked the habit, and one night she caught me snorting a line of coke and became my ex-girlfriend. She told me she’d had enough and would be going back home to Brazil. Can’t say I blame her. Though I’d do anything to get her back. But I don’t think she’d be willing to give me a third chance.”

The first chink in his armor, thought William. “Maybe I could help convince her that this time you’re determined to kick the habit?”

“How?” Adrian sounded interested for the first time.