Bad Samaritan Read Free Page A

the way he’s biting at the inside of his cheek, he’s been fighting to keep a hold on his emotions. The redness around his eyes tells me he’s losing.
    â€˜No thanks, Mr Banks.’ I say. ‘Just had one.’ I point at a chair. ‘Do you mind if we…?’
    He nods.
    The air fills with the scream of chair legs being scraped across wooden flooring. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ale cringing against the noise. We sit.
    â€˜Did she suffer?’ Kevin asks. His eyes move back and forward between Ale and I.
    â€˜We haven’t had the result of the post mortem yet…’
    â€˜I need to know. Did she suffer?’ He’s holding the toy bear in one hand and twisting a leg round and round with the other. His bottom lip is quivering, and a single tear is sliding down his cheek. ‘I turned the news off.’ He indicates with a nod of his head where the TV is pinned to the wall. ‘They just mentioned over and over again that a girl was…’ the word escapes on a breath ‘…dead.’
    â€˜We can’t say for sure, Mr Banks,’ I say. He opens his mouth as if to ask the same question again. I keep on speaking. ‘What we can say is that she didn’t give up without a fight. Evidence suggests she had a good go at scratching his face off.’
    Ale looks at me as if to ask if this is something I should be divulging. I ignore her. The man needs something to cling on to help him deal with the nightmare of the next few weeks and months.
    Kevin closes his eyes. ‘Her talons, I call them.’ His mouth trembles into the facsimile of a smile. ‘She spends hours on those bloody nails. Trimming and polish…’ His voice trails off as he realises he spoke about her in the present tense.
    â€˜What can you tell us about where she was heading off to last night?’ Ale asks.
    â€˜She’s a young woman.’ He shrugs. ‘You almost give up asking when all you get is vague answers. “Out”, was all she said.’
    â€˜Do you know who she was meeting?’
    â€˜Friends?’ A guilt-laboured shrug. ‘You try to keep a balance between knowing what they’re up to and giving them space to learn about life on their own.’
    â€˜Do you have contact details for her friends?’ I ask.
    He coughs. ‘My wife has some of their numbers on her mobile.’ He moves as if to stand up.
    â€˜Don’t trouble your wife, Mr Banks,’ I say. ‘We have Aileen’s mobile. I’m sure all the details we need will be on there.’ If he ’d been more aware of what was happening I’m sure he would have then asked me what was the point of the question? I wanted a feel for the family dynamics. They had an attractive living space, but did they communicate? How many answers would the parents be able to provide?
    â€˜Her nails and her laptop and her phone. That’s Aileen’s world right there.’ Kevin Banks’s eyes go vacant, and I see what I think he sees. A young girl on her bed, connected to her phone by an earpiece and dabbing paint on her toenails as she talks.
    â€˜Did she use Facebook and Twitter … all that stuff?’ I ask.
    â€˜I tease her.’ He pushes out his bottom lip. ‘Can’t you just talk to people?’ His eyes return from his thoughts and reach mine. ‘What happened to just talking?’ He exhales. It is a long and tremulous breath.
    â€˜Can you describe her state of mind when she left the house yesterday evening? Does anything strike you as being out of the ordinary?’
    Kevin purses his lips. ‘She … she was fine. Seemed like she was getting back to her usual self. Gave us the “don’t wait up” line.’
    â€˜Back to her usual self?’ asks Ale.
    â€˜Aye. She split up with her boyfriend, Simon, about six months ago. Simon Davis. They ’d been sweethearts all the way through secondary school.