A Cast of Vultures by Judith Flanders Page B

maybe he was older.
    He shrugged. Not a question he liked. ‘What I can. Building sites, mostly. Sometimes a friend of mine’s dad, who’s an electrician, gives me a few days’ work. I’ve done the NVQs, but I’m not qualified.’
    ‘That’s what you want to do? Be an electrician?’
    He still wouldn’t look at me, his arms crossed defensively.
    ‘How much longer would it take to get qualified?’
    ‘I’ve got the prelim certificate, but I’ve got to do an apprenticeship, put in the hours, and getting a place is hard.’ He glanced over at me, and then away just as quickly. ‘Why?’
    ‘Just wondering what it took. Look.’ I went back to the main point. ‘Would it help if I talked to Jake – my boyfriend? If the police are bothering you? Or would it make it worse?’
    He shook his head once, sharply. ‘It would make it worse.’
    I’d probably think the same if I were him. ‘OK. I’m not going to wait any longer for Viv. If you see her, will you say I dropped by to talk to her about Dennis? Tell her—’
    ‘How do you know Dennis?’
    ‘You know him too?’ We were both silent, startled. Then I connected the dots. ‘He ran a youth club. Did you know him from there?’
    Sam was back to being mistrustful. ‘Did your bloke tell you about him?’
    ‘No, Viv did.’
    ‘How does she come into this?’ He wasn’t mistrustful now, he was downright belligerent.
    ‘He lived upstairs here. He went missing last week, and she was worried.’
    ‘Last week? Before the fire?’
    ‘Yes.’ I ploughed on. ‘What day did you say the police asked you about last week?’
    ‘Wednesday.’
    ‘That’s it, then. Viv said the neighbours saw him on Wednesday; he was supposed to have dinner with her on Thursday, but he never showed.’ I added, ‘She liked him a lot.’
    Sam swallowed. ‘We –’ he gestured behind him, as though to his absent friends ‘– we went to the youth group he ran.’ He paused. ‘He was a good bloke,’ he said, as if I had argued the point.
    ‘Was he?’ I said neutrally. ‘I never met him.’
    ‘He was, really. The things they’re saying about him …’ He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t Dennis. Just not.’
    I bent to unchain my cycle. ‘I’m sure you’re right. You knew him, and they didn’t.’
    He eyed me warily, unsure whether my assertion was what I truly believed, or a trap. I decided that repeating myself would make me sound less trustworthy. Finally he said, ‘I’m not saying he didn’t have dodgy friends.’
    I tried a joke. ‘Everyone has dodgy friends. Look at me, I live with a cop.’
    He smiled absent-mindedly, to register he knew it was a joke, but he didn’t give it his full attention. It helped him make up his mind, though. ‘He was a good bloke,’ he repeated.
    I just nodded. He was heading somewhere.
    ‘There were a lot of people like me, who used the club as a place to hang out with our friends.’
    ‘Tell me about the club.’
    ‘It started off just as a casual group. They were skateboarders.’
    ‘And Dennis skateboarded with you?’ That sounded implausible.
    He laughed, loud and clear. Harefield was seemingly not the type. ‘No, that wasn’t his thing. He was helping us make some dosh, to pay for our kit.’
    That hadn’t been what I imagined when I heard youth-group worker. ‘How did he do that?’
    ‘A few of the others had been making T-shirts with skateboarding tags, and selling them. Dennis showed us how to do it more professionally. Before, they’d been buying T-shirts from Asda, and with the price of paint, and a market stall, there was barely any profit in it. Dennis explained about buying the materials in bulk, wholesale. That was why we needed the shed, to store everything.’
    ‘Sounds like a great idea.’
    ‘It was. That was what we mostly did.’ Sam sobered.
    More nodding from me. I could get a job as one of those dogs that go on the rear shelf in the back of cars.
    ‘But there were others.’ He hesitated, not sure