Hard Time by Maureen Carter Page B

ormolu clock ticked away long seconds. A blackbird’s song drifted through the open window, thin curtains rustled in a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped at the sudden shattering of the
near silence. Everyone but Jenny Page: the agonised scream of an animal in pain was hers.
    Daniel was trying very hard not to cry. His bottom lip quivered and his green eyes welled with bright shiny tears. Clutching Eeyore in his tiny hands, he pleaded with the lady
he called Aunty. “But why isn’t Daddy coming? You said he’d be here today.”
    The woman tried to put comforting arms round Daniel but he ducked away, shuffled along the settee as far he could. She’d tried to hide it, but he’d seen the look on her face. She was
smiling now, but underneath she was very cross.
    “He’s sure to be here tomorrow, Dan-Dan.”
    “Don’t call me that!” Daniel shouted, leg kicking out. “Only Mummy can call me Dan-Dan.”
    The woman raised an eyebrow. “Mummy isn’t calling you anything at the moment, little boy.”
    Daniel glared. He didn’t quite understand what she meant but knew it wasn’t very kind. He turned his back, snuggled into the arm of the settee. She tried to stroke his shoulder but
again he pulled away sharply. He heard her sigh and felt the cushion move as she stood.
    “Look, Daniel. I didn’t want to tell you this...” He clamped his hands over his ears.
    Only pretend.
    “I don’t know when Daddy’ll get away. He’s with your mummy in the hospital. She’s very sick, Daniel. Much worse than we thought. I’m so sorry.”
    She sounded so kind but Daniel didn’t know if he could trust her any more. His tears were soaking the soft material but he didn’t want her to know he was crying.
    “Thing is, Daniel darling, Mummy might not get better. Ever.”
    His shoulders trembled, then his whole body shook. He was frightened, needed a cuddle. When she stroked his back he flung himself into her arms, sobbing hysterically.
    She hugged him tightly, calmed him, smoothed his brow. “Daddy’ll come when he can, Daniel. You wouldn’t want him to leave Mummy all on her own, would you?”
    Chastened, the little boy shook his head, wiped his nose with a sleeve, gave a shuddering sigh. The nice lady settled him into a nest of cushions, and ruffled his hair. “I’ll get
your milk now. It’s nearly bedtime, Dan-Dan.”
    Bev had spent most of the afternoon chasing some of Wayne Dunston’s known associates. Known to the law, that was; associates as in criminal partners. A few feelers were
out but Wayne had a lot of mates. She stretched the kink in her spine, reached fingertips towards the ceiling and let out a sigh. It was a shit job but someone had to do it. Wouldn’t be so
bad if she was sure of a break but it was all a bit iffy.
    If the kidnappers had handpicked Dunston to do their dirty work, chances were they’d come across him inside. Prison had its old boys’ network too.
    She pushed back the chair, crossed Doc Martens on the desk, sucked a biro. First poser had been a piece of piss. Wayne’s cellmates and prison peers were on record. Winson Green had dished
out the baddies, no prob. She’d thought sheer numbers’d prove a bugger but logic told her asthmatic bigamists from Brazil could probably be crossed off the hit list. No sense pursuing
extremes. Even with the discounts, deadbeats and deceaseds, it still left a bunch.
    A bunch of habitual criminals, most of who would rather poke a rusty needle in their scrotum than stitch up a mate. On the other hand kidnapping, especially a child, was one of those crimes
where even hardened lags had been known to turn a blind eye to the code-of-silence crap.
    Absentmindedly she ripped the pull ring from a Red Bull. It was her third can. She could open a Starbucks with the caffeine in her system. She took a slug, scrolled through data on the screen.
Once she’d whittled down names she’d spread the honours among the squad. The cons still inside were a captive