Read Online Hard Fall: A gripping, noir detective thriller (Thomas Blume series of Hard-Boiled Mysteries, Book 1) by P.T. Reade - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: P.T. Reade
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trying to sound as if he didn’t know what I was getting at. I could tell just by looking at him though, that he did. “What do you mean—”
I pushed past him, ignoring his shouts of protest and charging into the living room we had spoken in earlier that week. He followed close behind, grumbling at me to get out of his house. This time I didn’t bother taking a seat, but went straight for the mantle. Snatching the framed photograph that I had asked about, I shoved it in front of his face.
“You never mentioned that you knew Billy Bennet. And you certainly didn’t mention that you knew him a long time ago. Back when he was William Hudson. Your nephew?”
Atkinson looked as if he had been slapped across the face. He took a step away from me, towards the kitchen as if the photograph repulsed him. The photo is why Bennett had looked so familiar to me when I had met him in the pub the other day. The boy in the picture was perhaps twenty years younger, but looking at it again now the resemblance was undeniable.
“I’ll save you the time in trying to deny or back out of it,” I said. “I have seen the files. I have seen a job application, turned in by Billy Bennett, with your name as a reference. Nothing wrong with that, of course — ”
“That’s right,” Atkinson said quickly. “Nothing at all.”
“But I can’t help but wonder why you failed to tell me about it,” I said. “Why you, in fact, didn’t even bother to tell anyone that you knew Billy Bennett at all.”
“He was a friend. That’s all. I helped him get a job. He was having hard times.”
“And do you know why?”
Here, Atkinson seemed to go a shade of grey. “Do you? ” he asked.
“I’ll ask the questions,” I said, trying to keep the pressure on. “Did you know about the crimes he committed under his real name?”
The look on Atkinson’s face was a clear indication that he was shocked to find that this information had come to light. Still, I had to give him credit. He didn’t even try to deny it. I had a feeling I knew the story here, so I folded my arms and waited for the inevitable train wreck.
“We hadn’t spoken in a long time when I finally heard from him, six or seven years ago. He told me what he had done…the molestation charges. I was shocked. The Billy I knew… he wasn’t capable of such a thing. I knew that wasn’t the real him. So I invested in him. I helped him get professional help.” Atkinson looked like he wanted to say more. I sensed there was something else going on here but he wasn’t going to give it up.
“And did it do any good?” I asked.
“It seemed to. I spoke to his counselor. Things were going great. So when he asked for that job reference, I was happy to do it. I thought I was helping him get his life back together.”
I let out a sick bray of shocked laughter. “I don’t care how good someone’s counseling is going. What the hell were you thinking when you helped a registered sex offender of children get a job driving a fucking school bus?”
“I – You have no right to take that tone with m—,”
“Stop it right there,” I said. “I know your history. I know how much of a big shot you were with the police. So I assume that if this came to light and the case was re-opened with more focus on Billy, you could get into some trouble. Am I right? If the cops start looking into Billy again, it won’t take them long to make the connection to you, will it?”
To my surprise, he stepped forward and gave me a sneer. “Get out of my house.”
“I think you owe it to Jack Ellington to—”
“I’m retired,” he said. “I don’t owe anyone anything. Now get off of my property.”
“Or what?” I asked. “You’ll call the police? Go ahead. I have some things to tell them anyway. You know another kid is missing right?”
He stared a hole through me, and I could feel the hate coming in
I pushed past him, ignoring his shouts of protest and charging into the living room we had spoken in earlier that week. He followed close behind, grumbling at me to get out of his house. This time I didn’t bother taking a seat, but went straight for the mantle. Snatching the framed photograph that I had asked about, I shoved it in front of his face.
“You never mentioned that you knew Billy Bennet. And you certainly didn’t mention that you knew him a long time ago. Back when he was William Hudson. Your nephew?”
Atkinson looked as if he had been slapped across the face. He took a step away from me, towards the kitchen as if the photograph repulsed him. The photo is why Bennett had looked so familiar to me when I had met him in the pub the other day. The boy in the picture was perhaps twenty years younger, but looking at it again now the resemblance was undeniable.
“I’ll save you the time in trying to deny or back out of it,” I said. “I have seen the files. I have seen a job application, turned in by Billy Bennett, with your name as a reference. Nothing wrong with that, of course — ”
“That’s right,” Atkinson said quickly. “Nothing at all.”
“But I can’t help but wonder why you failed to tell me about it,” I said. “Why you, in fact, didn’t even bother to tell anyone that you knew Billy Bennett at all.”
“He was a friend. That’s all. I helped him get a job. He was having hard times.”
“And do you know why?”
Here, Atkinson seemed to go a shade of grey. “Do you? ” he asked.
“I’ll ask the questions,” I said, trying to keep the pressure on. “Did you know about the crimes he committed under his real name?”
The look on Atkinson’s face was a clear indication that he was shocked to find that this information had come to light. Still, I had to give him credit. He didn’t even try to deny it. I had a feeling I knew the story here, so I folded my arms and waited for the inevitable train wreck.
“We hadn’t spoken in a long time when I finally heard from him, six or seven years ago. He told me what he had done…the molestation charges. I was shocked. The Billy I knew… he wasn’t capable of such a thing. I knew that wasn’t the real him. So I invested in him. I helped him get professional help.” Atkinson looked like he wanted to say more. I sensed there was something else going on here but he wasn’t going to give it up.
“And did it do any good?” I asked.
“It seemed to. I spoke to his counselor. Things were going great. So when he asked for that job reference, I was happy to do it. I thought I was helping him get his life back together.”
I let out a sick bray of shocked laughter. “I don’t care how good someone’s counseling is going. What the hell were you thinking when you helped a registered sex offender of children get a job driving a fucking school bus?”
“I – You have no right to take that tone with m—,”
“Stop it right there,” I said. “I know your history. I know how much of a big shot you were with the police. So I assume that if this came to light and the case was re-opened with more focus on Billy, you could get into some trouble. Am I right? If the cops start looking into Billy again, it won’t take them long to make the connection to you, will it?”
To my surprise, he stepped forward and gave me a sneer. “Get out of my house.”
“I think you owe it to Jack Ellington to—”
“I’m retired,” he said. “I don’t owe anyone anything. Now get off of my property.”
“Or what?” I asked. “You’ll call the police? Go ahead. I have some things to tell them anyway. You know another kid is missing right?”
He stared a hole through me, and I could feel the hate coming in
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