Read Online Closer Still by Jo Bannister - Free Book Online Page A

he’d gone home alone. Was it beyond the bounds of possibility that the fury at Loomis’s threats had built up in him until he could sit still no longer, had to do something about it?
    With a knife?
    â€˜You need to talk to Jack.’
    Brodie’s eyes flared in alarm. ‘No!’
    â€˜You have to. He needs to know what Loomis said.’
    â€˜He didn’t say anything! He couldn’t. He couldn’t get past the first letter …’
    â€˜Which was a D. Jack may have had a motive of sorts, but if he was at Battle Alley between nine-thirty and ten, someone else killed Joe Loomis. And Jack needs to know that Loomis recognised his killer, and tried to say his name.
    Brodie mumbled something that he didn’t hear. ‘Hm?’
    â€˜I said, Jack wasn’t at Battle Alley. Charlie Voss arrived five minutes before Jack did.’
    â€˜OK, so he was at home. Someone may have seen him leaving.’
    â€˜He wasn’t at home either. Not when I knocked on his door twenty minutes earlier.’
    â€˜Then …’ Daniel couldn’t come up with another alternative. ‘He could have been anywhere. He could have been in The Belted Galloway. He could have been walking on the Promenade. Wherever he was, he can probably prove it if he knows he has to.’
    She made one last attempt at avoidance. ‘No one else was there. No one else heard it. If we’re sure Jack’s not
responsible for this, why bring it up at all?’
    It really didn’t need saying but he said it anyway. ‘Because it’s evidence. Because at some point that one letter Loomis was able to say will mean something to someone. Because Jack needs to play this with a full deck. And because he doesn’t need you to compromise yourself to protect him.’
    Brodie was nodding slowly. She managed a wry smile. ‘You’re right. I’ll call him in the morning.’
    â€˜Call him now.’
    Â 
    When he asked what she wanted, she refused to say over the phone. He asked if it was important enough to drag him away from a murder inquiry and she said it was. Naturally, his first thought flew to his son.
    When Brodie met him on the front steps of the big Victorian house in Chiffney Road, his big craggy face was fish-belly white. ‘There’s some news? What? Is he all right? Brodie, tell me!’
    It was reassuring that his first thought, his immediate fear, was not for himself. ‘Jonathan’s fine, Jack. This is about Loomis. Come inside, we need to talk.’
    Daniel offered to leave them to it. But both for their different reasons wanted him to stay: Brodie because his quiet presence helped her stay focused, restrained her from saying things she didn’t mean and would later regret; and Deacon because this was business and he’d listen to anything anyone had to contribute. And he knew from bitter experience that Brodie would have discussed this with her friend before coming to him. Daniel might remember details she’d forgotten.

    But since he was there, Daniel made a point of watching Deacon’s face as Brodie spoke. So far as he could tell the big man never saw the punch-line coming. Even after she’d repeated Loomis’s abbreviated last words, it took a moment for their import to sink in.
    Then his jaw dropped slowly. His heavy, intelligent eyes saucered. There was a long silence, perhaps half a minute, while he considered the implications of what she’d said. Then:
    â€˜You thought I stabbed him.’
    â€˜No!’ And then, ‘Really, I didn’t. But in all the circumstances I didn’t feel I could keep it to myself. Only I didn’t want to say anything in front of anyone else, just in case …’
    â€˜In case I’d lured Joe Loomis to a dark car park and buried a knife in his armpit?’ finished Deacon tartly. ‘Thanks, Brodie. I appreciate your consideration.’
    â€˜Don’t be like that.’