The Silent Suspect Read online

  I took a sip of my coffee, which had been growing cold as we talked. Are you suggesting this person might be responsible for Nadia’s death? Would Lukas really get involved with someone who was capable of something like that? I know he had his problems, but getting involved with organised crime seems a bit of a stretch.

  She shrugged. I have no idea, but I do think it’s something we need to look into. I’ll see if I can get the name of the person he borrowed from. He told me the man was a friend, which is possible, but I do wonder if there’s more to it than that.

  Okay, but what about the other possibility? I asked. To me it seems more likely that Lukas is trying to protect someone. If he was scared of the person who’d done it, wouldn’t he tell the police the truth and ask for their help?

  Sasha looked at me like I’d just asked if she was the one who killed Nadia. Do you really think Lukas would trust the police to help him? His upbringing, the area he lives in, the experiences he’s had in life … none of these things have left him in a position to trust many people in authority. And if whoever he borrowed this money from has a bad reputation, Lukas will feel like he’s safer in jail than back on the streets.

  I paused to let this sink in, suitably chastised. I’d let my own situation influence what I thought about Lukas, and hadn’t stopped to look at things from his perspective.

  But there could be something in what you’re saying, Sasha continued. We have to look at the people in his life he might want to protect, and see if they had a motive for murdering Nadia.

  The people at the neighbouring table were watching us curiously. Public conversations using sign language usually garnered attention, but in this situation I was very glad they didn’t understand what we were discussing.

  Other than Nadia herself, I can only think of Mariusz, I replied.

  He’s almost an adult, but I can’t see him murdering someone. He’s sweet, and small for his age, Sasha replied. And Mariusz and Nadia got on really well.

  How’s he taking it? I asked.

  I’ve been trying to get in touch with his mother, Caroline, to find out, Sasha told me, nodding at her phone. But she’s not my client, and neither is Mariusz, so if she doesn’t get back to me I don’t have many other options. I suppose we could go round and see them, just to ask how they’re doing.

  I’m not sure that sounds like a good idea, I replied with a frown. The police might not be happy about it. I had been trying to ignore the number of times she’d signed ‘we’ rather than ‘I’. I wasn’t even being paid to interpret for her today, and I didn’t want her to drag me into something I wasn’t keen on doing.

  Sasha shrugged. She’s not my client. I’m not working today. What’s wrong with knocking on the door just to check they’re okay? The worst Caroline can do is refuse to talk to us.

  You can try it if you like, I told her, emphasising the first ‘you’ with a sharp jab of my finger in her direction, but be prepared for it to backfire.

  She nodded slowly, then looked up and smiled at me, and I knew what was coming.

  I don’t know how good Caroline’s signing is. I mean, she must be able to sign to communicate with Lukas, but I don’t want to have any miscommunication.

  I shook my head before she even asked the question. No, Sasha. I promised Singh I wouldn’t get involved. This is your client, and much as I feel for him, I can’t support you poking around. Until now I’d thought Sasha just wanted to discuss alternative theories for what happened to Nadia, but it was dawning on me that she wanted to go further than that and actively investigate.

  I’ll sign off your overtime, if that’s an issue, she replied. Then it’s no different from you interpreting for me with any of my clients or the other professionals I meet. It’s me who’s getting involved, not you.

  I hesitated. If Sasha found something that pointed to another suspect, I knew she’d rush to take it to the detectives, but would she be so quick to act if she unearthed evidence that incriminated Lukas? I knew I should trust her to be impartial, but it felt like she was taking this case personally.

  Against my better judgement, I agreed, and a few minutes later we were on our way back to Scunthorpe. I was surprised that she knew Caroline’s address, but then wondered if she’d been planning this all along and had only asked me to meet her to enlist my help before going round there. It was too late to change my mind, though.

  Caroline lived in a neat little row of tiny terraced houses near the hospital, and when we rang the bell I heard movement from inside. The house opened right onto the pavement, and from our position next to the door we were very close to the front window. I tried my best not to stare, but Sasha stood and watched as the curtain twitched and a young face looked out at us for a moment.

  Thirty seconds later, Caroline appeared in the doorway. She was clearly dressed for work, in a carer’s uniform, and didn’t look particularly pleased to see us.

  ‘You’re Lukas’s social worker, aren’t you?’ she asked, looking Sasha up and down before turning to me. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Sasha’s interpreter,’ I replied, which got an eye roll from Caroline but no further comment.

  ‘What do you want?’

  We just wanted to see how you’re doing, Sasha told her, putting on her best expression that managed to convey both sympathy and friendship. I interpreted for Caroline, although from her scowl I could tell her BSL was good enough that she had understood.

  ‘I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Caroline replied with a shrug, glancing over her shoulder and back into the house as she did so.

  ‘Have you heard about the fire? At Lukas and Nadia’s house?’ I asked, just in case she hadn’t been told about it.

  ‘Have I heard that my ex is in jail for murdering his wife and burning his house down to cover it up?’ she asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. ‘Yeah, it’s come up a couple of times. But why are you here? I don’t need a fucking social worker.’

  We just wanted to see if there was anything you or Mariusz needed, Sasha explained. There are things we can do to support you in this sort of situation. If Mariusz wants to talk to anyone about it, we can arrange that.

  Caroline took a step forward, shoving her face into Sasha’s. ‘Don’t you come near my boy. It has nothing to do with him. I’m just glad he was here with me that night, and not at his dad’s.’

  Before Sasha had a chance to respond, a figure appeared behind Caroline in the hallway.

  ‘Mum, don’t.’ Mariusz put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder and pulled her back, but she shook her son off. I could see what Sasha meant – for a sixteen-year-old boy, Mariusz wasn’t very tall, and he was skinny. He had a mop of blond hair that fell in his eyes, and I got the feeling that he liked to hide under it. When he looked up at us I could see redness around his eyes, and he looked between us with an anguished frown.

  Sasha smiled at Mariusz and was about to sign something, when Caroline stepped in between them.

  ‘No. You’re not speaking to my boy. I don’t want him having anything to do with his father, not after what he’s done, and you won’t convince me otherwise. I know he’s sent you here. Does he really think I’m going to let him see his son when he’s in prison?’ Her face contorted with a mixture of rage and disgust. ‘It was bad enough that he shacked up with another woman and got married so quickly, but I never thought he’d do something like this.’

  ‘Lukas hasn’t sent us, Caroline,’ I began, but she glared at me.

  ‘I’ve told you. Leave us alone.’ With that, she stepped back into the house and slammed the door. Sasha and I looked at each other, knowing we couldn’t do any more, but as we turned to walk back to the car I saw Mariusz watching us from the front window. He glanced behind him to check Caroline hadn’t noticed, then signed Sorry through the window.

  I miss my dad. And Nadia, he told us, then turned away. Sasha put her hand up to sign something through the window, but the curtain fell back across, and Mariusz was gone.

  Chap
ter 9

  Sasha and I sat in my car after Caroline had told us to leave.

  Do you want to go home? I asked her, but she shook her head.

  No. While we’re here, I want to go back to Lukas’s house.

  My heart sank. Sasha, I told you. I don’t want to get involved.

  Look, this might not be important to you, but I need you to do this for me. I’ve done my best to help you out over the last few months. She gave me a pointed look. I’ve given you plenty of overtime, and I know you needed it.

  I sighed. She was right, but I didn’t like her throwing it back in my face like this. I’d been able to pay off the last of my debts thanks to the overtime hours she’d persuaded her boss to sign off on.

  Why can’t you leave it to the police? I asked.

  I’ve seen clients in trouble with the police plenty of times before, she told me. But that’s always been for something they’ve actually done. I feel like because someone lives in a certain area, especially when they have a social worker for whatever reason, people will automatically assume they’re guilty. If the police aren’t willing to look past that, I’m going to have to do it for them.

  Okay, I’ll come with you, but you’re taking full responsibility for this, I told her. What are you hoping to find out?

  Sasha explained to me that she wanted to see if any of Lukas’s neighbours were in. Singh had told us that someone had reported a disturbance at Lukas and Nadia’s house on the day of the fire, and it hadn’t been the first time. If they were telling the truth, maybe they could tell her what that argument was about.

  It was only when we pulled up in the street of terraced houses and looked at the blackened shell that was once Lukas’s home, that I realised we didn’t know which neighbour had given the statement. I had assumed it was one immediately next to Lukas, but that wasn’t necessarily the case, and even then that left us two to choose from. Each house was a mirror image of the one next to it, so the front doors were arranged in pairs. Looking out of my car window, I realised just how lucky both immediate neighbours had been, that the fire hadn’t spread to either of their houses on Tuesday night.

  After a quick discussion, Sasha made the decision to start with the house whose front door nestled up to Lukas’s. The next issue to surmount was what to say – she could hardly tell the occupier that she didn’t believe Lukas was responsible for the fire. Nobody would appreciate a stranger coming to their door and suggesting they were lying.

  We’ll have to think of another story, something that would make them willing to talk to you, I said.

  Perhaps you could pretend to be a journalist? she suggested.

  Not everyone wants their name printed in the paper, and it could make them more reluctant to talk to us. I wondered why it was suddenly me who had to take on this role.

  Okay, then we need to come up with something that would suggest there’d be some benefit to them speaking to you.

  After a few minutes’ discussion, we had something. The only problem was that Sasha wanted me to go and speak to the neighbours by myself – she didn’t think it’d be convincing if another deaf person happened to be looking into the fire, and there was a possibility someone would recognise her from visiting Lukas at home.

  I promise it will just be this, she told me. This one thing, then I won’t ask you to do anything else.

  Fine, I grumbled, as long as it is the last thing. Now I just had to make our story sound plausible.

  As I was getting out of the car, I spotted a bright yellow notebook in the side pocket. Anna had bought it a couple of weeks ago and had left it there, so I took it with me in case I needed to make a note of anything, assuming she wouldn’t miss it. I crossed the road and knocked on the door of the house next to Lukas’s. I waited for a moment, listening to see if I could hear any sounds from the other side of the door. There were some doors banging in other houses, and I heard a few shouts from further up the street, but nobody came to the door. I was just deciding whether to knock again, when a woman stuck her head out from the next house, two doors down from the burnt-out one.

  ‘He’ll be at work,’ the woman said, looking me up and down and wrinkling her nose. ‘You want to talk to him, you’ll have to come back later.’

  ‘Okay. Thank you,’ I replied, not sure what to do next. I was thinking of trying the house on the other side of Lukas’s, but now this woman was standing in front of me it seemed silly to pass up the opportunity to speak to her. She seemed familiar enough with her neighbour’s movements to possibly be able to tell me something about Lukas and Nadia, so I turned on my brightest smile and approached her.

  ‘I wonder if you could help me instead,’ I began. ‘I’m an insurance investigator. Were you at home on Tuesday night, when the fire took place at number fourteen?’

  The woman sniffed. ‘I mighta been. Why you asking?’

  Keeping my smile fixed, I looked around, as if I was checking to see if anyone was listening. ‘Well, it’s my job to make sure my company understands exactly what happened on that night. We need to be certain we’re paying out to the people who deserve it, and any compensation claims are genuine.’

  ‘Compensation?’ the woman replied, her tongue flicking over her lips. She’d stood up a little straighter as I said my piece, and I knew I had her interest.

  ‘Well, yes. In this sort of situation, we need to be sure the policy holder isn’t the only person affected by this. Neighbouring houses could well have sustained some damage.’

  The woman glanced back at her house, and I wondered what sort of story she was going to concoct. I could tell her house was far enough away from Lukas’s that it hadn’t been damaged by the fire, but I could practically see the cogs whirring in her mind as she tried to think of a way in which she could benefit.

  ‘I got COPD,’ she said eventually. ‘That’s me lungs. The smoke, you know. Made me right poorly, it has.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Mrs …?’ I replied, tailing off.

  ‘Adams,’ she replied. ‘Jill Adams.’

  ‘Well, Mrs Adams, would you mind telling me what you know about what happened on Tuesday?’

  Jill Adams leant back against the wall that separated the front of her property from the house outside of which I was standing, and rubbed her nose.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ she told me. ‘I spoke to the police about it. I always knew there was summat wrong with them in that house.’

  Bingo, I thought. It looked like we’d struck it lucky with the neighbour who had reported a fight between Lukas and Nadia.

  ‘Wrong? In what way?’

  ‘Well, you know.’ She leant forward, as if she was imparting a great secret. ‘They’re foreign. And they’re both deaf and dumb, you know.’

  I cringed at the outdated and offensive phrase, but I bit my tongue. It was a good job Sasha had stayed in the car so she hadn’t been faced with this sort of attitude. In my professional role, I would have corrected Jill Adams immediately, explaining the negative connotations of the word ‘dumb’ and suggesting she use ‘mute’ instead, but right now I needed to keep her onside.

  ‘So neither of the occupants of number fourteen speak?’ I asked, trying to clarify what she meant. If she was claiming that neither Lukas nor Nadia ever used their voices, she couldn’t have heard them shouting at each other.

  ‘Well, not exactly. He doesn’t talk, but she does. I meant more that, you know, they’re a bit simple.’

  Once again, I swallowed what I wanted to say in response. I knew that Lukas had left school with several good qualifications, and he was eloquent when it came to expressing himself in BSL. He had no learning difficulties that Sasha had ever mentioned, and so I assumed this was prejudice on the part of Jill Adams. Unfortunately, some people jumped to conclusions when it came to deaf people, especially sign language users.

  ‘They yelled at each other – I heard that sometimes,’ Jill was saying, nodding to herself as if she’d proven a point. ‘It was both of them, like
. They each gave as good as they got.’

  I knew that this could have been accurate – just because Lukas didn’t use a spoken language didn’t mean he couldn’t make any sound, and in argument I imagined he wouldn’t be silent. Still, I didn’t want to lead her into talking about Tuesday night; I needed her to tell me of her own volition.

  ‘Did they fight a lot?’ I asked, trying my best to sound sympathetic, as if the rows must have disturbed her.

  She shrugged. ‘On and off. More when there was people in the house. Well, afterwards.’

  I frowned. ‘People in the house?’

  ‘Yeah, for a few days last week there’s been loads of people going in and out, at all hours of the day. I reported them to the council for antisocial behaviour,’ she told me, leaning back and folding her arms. ‘There’s plenty of folks that could be doing with a council house like that one, and I don’t think them that’s causing trouble should be allowed to keep theirs.’

  Sasha would definitely want to look into that, I thought, though chances were it was just a group of Mariusz’s friends and Jill Adams was being oversensitive.

  ‘And it was definitely this house, number fourteen?’ I asked, pointing over my shoulder at the house behind me and making a note in the little yellow book.

  ‘Oh yes. I’m not the only one who’s noticed it. But I’m the only one who had the guts to call the council about it. Everyone else just wants to keep their head down. It doesn’t last long, they say. It doesn’t happen often. Well, it was too often for me, and there was obviously something dodgy about it.’ She nodded firmly, as if she’d made her point exceptionally clear, but I was confused.

  ‘I’m sorry, what do you mean, something dodgy?’