the—’
‘I’m not mental.’
They turned to the boy. His voice had been a whisper. His face, like his manner, was downcast.
‘No one’s saying that you are, Daniel. We would simply argue that you were not responsible for your actions, on the grounds that—’
‘What would you call it then?’ interrupted Daniel’s stepfather. ‘Why the hell else would you have done what you did?’
Daniel’s mother gave a whimper.
‘Mr Blake,’ said Leo. ‘Please.’
‘Well?’ the man persisted. He was leaning towards his stepson but not, Leo would have said, as close as he might have. When Daniel raised his eyes – full of misery; fear, too, though checked by his obvious resentment – Blake backed slightly away. He disguised his retreat with a grunt. ‘Not mental, he says. Like that makes everything all right. Like anyone’s gonna think less of him if he ends up in a loony bin instead of in prison.’
‘Mr Blake—’
‘Talk to your son, Steph, for Christ’s sake. Don’t just bloody sit there.’
Daniel’s mother did precisely that.
‘You saw what happened outside the court,’ Blake persisted. ‘They’ll tear him apart if he goes to prison. Ask your ex, Daniel’s father: ask him. He’s inside, he knows what it’s like. Daniel won’t last five minutes. They’ll rip him to pieces, even before they find out what he’s done.’
Stephanie, this time, choked back a sob.
‘Oh Christ. Here we go.’ Blake looked at Leo, as though expecting him to mirror his rolling eyes. ‘Power up the sprinklers: that’ll help. Sit there feeling sorry for yourself when it’s your son – your bloody son – who’s just confessed to murder, who’s gonna spend rest of his worthless life, probably, in some stinking, piss-stained—’
‘Mr Blake! That’s enough!’
At the sound of Leo’s raised voice, the guard outside the door framed his face in the security glass. When Leo raised a hand, he returned a frown – then reluctantly, it seemed, revolved away. Blake, meanwhile, had settled his snarl on Leo. He made a gun shape with his fingers and spoke down the barrel.
‘You listen to me, Curtice. This is my family, my business. You’re just the hired help. Do you get me?’
Twerp. Obnoxious, poisonous, vicious little twerp.
But: ‘I get you, Mr Blake.’ There was a hint of a challenge in Leo’s tone but he let it fade. ‘And I apologise for raising my voice. The purpose of this discussion is to lay down some options. That’s all. We do not need to make any decisions right away.’
With a snort, Daniel’s stepfather made plain what he thought of Leo’s options.
‘Also,’ Leo said, ‘I had hoped to clarify where things stand. From a procedural perspective, I mean.’ He turned to Stephanie. ‘A lot’s happened in the past few days and I thought . . . Well. I thought you would probably have some questions.’
Daniel’s mother, after a pause, gave a nod. She did not look up, however. She did not speak.
‘The remand hearing, for instance. The court visit. Did you understand the implications?’
Still Stephanie said nothing.
‘Daniel? Did you understand what it meant?’
Daniel, too, avoided Leo’s eye.
‘It meant he’s not getting out. Right? It means they’re keeping him locked up.’ Blake, as he spoke, seemed to smirk.
‘You’re to be transferred, Daniel,’ said Leo. ‘ To a . . . facility. A place like this but closer to home. You’ll be able to visit,’ Leo added, turning to the boy’s mother.
Stephanie swallowed. She took a breath, seemed to taste the words that were forming on her tongue. ‘What about . . .’ She cast a glance towards her son that did not quite reach. ‘What about bail? Is it not worth trying? I know you advised not to but . . . later, maybe? Will they . . . will they let Daniel come home?’
The boy made a sound, something between a murmur and a moan.
Leo nodded, in understanding rather than affirmation. ‘It would not, I think, be wise.
‘I’m not mental.’
They turned to the boy. His voice had been a whisper. His face, like his manner, was downcast.
‘No one’s saying that you are, Daniel. We would simply argue that you were not responsible for your actions, on the grounds that—’
‘What would you call it then?’ interrupted Daniel’s stepfather. ‘Why the hell else would you have done what you did?’
Daniel’s mother gave a whimper.
‘Mr Blake,’ said Leo. ‘Please.’
‘Well?’ the man persisted. He was leaning towards his stepson but not, Leo would have said, as close as he might have. When Daniel raised his eyes – full of misery; fear, too, though checked by his obvious resentment – Blake backed slightly away. He disguised his retreat with a grunt. ‘Not mental, he says. Like that makes everything all right. Like anyone’s gonna think less of him if he ends up in a loony bin instead of in prison.’
‘Mr Blake—’
‘Talk to your son, Steph, for Christ’s sake. Don’t just bloody sit there.’
Daniel’s mother did precisely that.
‘You saw what happened outside the court,’ Blake persisted. ‘They’ll tear him apart if he goes to prison. Ask your ex, Daniel’s father: ask him. He’s inside, he knows what it’s like. Daniel won’t last five minutes. They’ll rip him to pieces, even before they find out what he’s done.’
Stephanie, this time, choked back a sob.
‘Oh Christ. Here we go.’ Blake looked at Leo, as though expecting him to mirror his rolling eyes. ‘Power up the sprinklers: that’ll help. Sit there feeling sorry for yourself when it’s your son – your bloody son – who’s just confessed to murder, who’s gonna spend rest of his worthless life, probably, in some stinking, piss-stained—’
‘Mr Blake! That’s enough!’
At the sound of Leo’s raised voice, the guard outside the door framed his face in the security glass. When Leo raised a hand, he returned a frown – then reluctantly, it seemed, revolved away. Blake, meanwhile, had settled his snarl on Leo. He made a gun shape with his fingers and spoke down the barrel.
‘You listen to me, Curtice. This is my family, my business. You’re just the hired help. Do you get me?’
Twerp. Obnoxious, poisonous, vicious little twerp.
But: ‘I get you, Mr Blake.’ There was a hint of a challenge in Leo’s tone but he let it fade. ‘And I apologise for raising my voice. The purpose of this discussion is to lay down some options. That’s all. We do not need to make any decisions right away.’
With a snort, Daniel’s stepfather made plain what he thought of Leo’s options.
‘Also,’ Leo said, ‘I had hoped to clarify where things stand. From a procedural perspective, I mean.’ He turned to Stephanie. ‘A lot’s happened in the past few days and I thought . . . Well. I thought you would probably have some questions.’
Daniel’s mother, after a pause, gave a nod. She did not look up, however. She did not speak.
‘The remand hearing, for instance. The court visit. Did you understand the implications?’
Still Stephanie said nothing.
‘Daniel? Did you understand what it meant?’
Daniel, too, avoided Leo’s eye.
‘It meant he’s not getting out. Right? It means they’re keeping him locked up.’ Blake, as he spoke, seemed to smirk.
‘You’re to be transferred, Daniel,’ said Leo. ‘ To a . . . facility. A place like this but closer to home. You’ll be able to visit,’ Leo added, turning to the boy’s mother.
Stephanie swallowed. She took a breath, seemed to taste the words that were forming on her tongue. ‘What about . . .’ She cast a glance towards her son that did not quite reach. ‘What about bail? Is it not worth trying? I know you advised not to but . . . later, maybe? Will they . . . will they let Daniel come home?’
The boy made a sound, something between a murmur and a moan.
Leo nodded, in understanding rather than affirmation. ‘It would not, I think, be wise.
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