believe in the magic man in the sky bit.’
Murphy looked down at her and smiled thinly at the echo of his own thoughts. ‘Probably best to keep your voice down a bit. You’re standing on hallowed ground here,’ he said, motioning towards the church before walking on.
‘Yeah … I’m about to get struck down by God’s wrath any second now,’ Rossi muttered under her breath, just about loud enough for him to hear. He bit on his lip in order to stifle the laughter.
‘You’re not, are you?’ Rossi said, as she caught up with him. ‘Don’t mean to offend, if you are …’
Murphy shook his head. ‘No. Not really. It’d be nice, I suppose, but I think I’ve been doing this too long to believe.’
Rossi looked away, nodding. ‘Anyway,’ she said finally, ‘what next … the kids?’
‘Yes. Have they been taken to the station?’
Rossi looked around and beckoned someone in uniform over. ‘I’ll just check.’
Murphy left her to it, turning to watch as the tent cover surrounding the body was pulled back and the trolley which would transport it to either a van or ambulance was taken closer to the scene. The victim was now completely covered in black for its first step in the journey of a murder investigation.
Well, almost its first step. What happened to the boy before it had arrived here was the beginning, really.
‘The lads are at the station. Parents are meeting us there,’ Rossi said, appearing at his side. ‘But, more importantly, we’ve got a name for the victim.’
‘That was quick,’ Murphy replied. ‘Thought they didn’t find anything on the body?’
Rossi shook her head, grinning slightly. ‘Didn’t need to. A uniform recognised him. Reckons he’s had a few dealings with him in the past.’ She pointed to an officer who was sitting on the small outer wall on the perimeter of the church. ‘PC Michael Hale.’
‘I’ve seen him before somewhere,’ Murphy said, walking towards PC Hale, Rossi in step next to him.
‘Same here. Can’t place him though. Probably some other scene.’
‘Hmmm. Possibly.’
They reached the PC, who broke off from speaking to another officer to greet them
‘Sorry about that,’ PC Hale said, once the officer had left.
‘It’s no problem,’ Murphy said, looking Hale up and down. ‘I’ve been told you know the victim?’
‘Yeah,’ PC Hale said, stroking a leather-gloved hand over his face. Three-day stubble, intentionally shaped and clipped. ‘Had the pleasure of his company over the years. If you know what I mean …’
Murphy waited, the silence growing between the three of them until Rossi filled it.
‘Well? What are you waiting for?’
‘Oh, sorry. His name is Dean Hughes. Lives over in Norris Green. Part of the crew there. Always in trouble for something or other. Those gangs are the bane of our lives – in uniform, you know. One of the reasons I’m trying to move over to work with you guys.’
‘Right,’ Murphy said, trying to decide on his first impression and finding it wasn’t good. ‘And you can tell, even with what’s happened to his face?’
PC Hale nodded. ‘I’ve seen him at his worst, after fights and that. It’s definitely him.’
‘So, how old is he?’
‘Think he’s eighteen now. Not sure. Haven’t seen him around for a while, so thought he’d either been banged up without me knowing, or got some girl pregnant and was trying to go straight. Never happens though.’
‘What doesn’t?’
‘Going straight. Those types … they’re always up to something. Can’t help themselves. Doing normal stuff just doesn’t come natural. Waking up early, going to work, doing an honest job … they can’t handle it. Rather sit at home on their arses and go on the rob at night. Looks like someone might have done us a favour here, if you ask me.’
Murphy knew the sort PC Hale was referring to – even had some sympathy for the bitterness which had crept into Hale from years of dealing with this type – but he still decided his first impression was right. Hale was a prick. ‘Is that what your dealings with Dean were mainly about … robbing, that sort of thing?’ Murphy said, aware of Rossi bridling beside him.
‘All sorts, really. Street robbery, violence, drink, drugs …’
‘Drugs?’ Rossi interjected, just as Murphy was taking a breath.
‘Yeah, only a bit of weed and that. Nothing major. I’m sure you’ll see his record soon enough, but I imagine it wasn’t just me who was picking him up most weekends. Proper little scrote. Used to take him home to his mum and she’d be just as bad. More pissed off with us than the little shit we’d took home for her. The state of that house as well … Jesus. Five kids, probably five different dads, I reckon. None sticking around for more than the two minutes it took to get her up the duff. You know the type. What do these people expect if that’s how they’re brought up?’
Murphy couldn’t help but glower at Hale a little. ‘Well thanks for the speech, PC Hale. Good to know a bit of background about the victim … you know, the dead teenager?’
Hale focussed past Murphy and Rossi at the church behind them. Murphy followed his gaze. ‘Yeah,’ Hale said eventually, ‘no problem.’
‘Let’s go,’ Rossi said, pulling once on Murphy’s arm before walking away. ‘I can’t hear any more merda right now.’
Murphy said goodbye for both of them and turned towards the church entrance where they’d parked up earlier, and walked quickly to catch up to Rossi. Heard PC Hale ask a fellow uniformed officer what merda might mean, and smiled in spite of himself.
‘You sorted here?’ Murphy said, as he reached his car – Rossi leaning against the passenger door, waiting.
‘Of course.’
‘Let’s get back then. See what these kids have to say and then make plans.’
The car journey back to the station was silent, broken only with long sighs from Rossi who sat beside Murphy. The four miles back to the city centre should have taken fifteen minutes but was taking much longer due to traffic going back into town.
‘Okay. I give in,’ Murphy said, as they stopped at yet another set of traffic lights. ‘What’s up with you today?’
Another sigh. ‘Nothing.’
‘I know that means something. Come on, open up. You’ve been in a frigging foul mood all morning. I haven’t
