The Unquiet Grave by Steven Dunne Page A

in the house for a while.’ Noble shrugged. ‘It was an open-and-shut case. He confessed and pleaded diminished responsibility; got off with manslaughter. Case closed.’
    ‘OK,’ said Brook doubtfully. He sensed there was something else, something Noble didn’t want to tell him. ‘That doesn’t explain why the Stapletons are downstairs.’
    ‘There were some issues surrounding the death. Joshua and Scott Wheeler were thick as thieves, inseparable. They were only twelve-year-old kids but the day of the murder, somehow they persuaded their parents to be allowed out on their own to go trick or treating, on the strict understanding that they stick together.’
    ‘But they didn’t,’ said Brook.
    ‘There was an argument about something and nothing and Joshua stormed off and ended up in a filthy squat with his neck broken. After his son’s death, Greg Stapleton turned on the Wheeler boy, said his son would be alive today if Scott hadn’t abandoned him.’ Noble held out his hands. ‘Push came to shove and, just before the trial, Stapleton threatened Scott.’
    ‘He’d just lost his son, John.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Any parent could have an outburst like that.’
    ‘I know,’ repeated Noble. ‘No way Greg Stapleton’s going to abduct a young kid to get even for his son’s death, not after so long. Even Scott’s mum said it was ridiculous.’
    ‘But you have to look into it,’ nodded Brook.
    ‘Especially as a witness at the party, a friend, said something spooked Scott really badly. Said he was scared out of his mind just before he disappeared.’
    ‘So any reported threats have to be followed up,’ said Brook. Noble lifted a confirming eyebrow. ‘Then they’re not under arrest.’
    ‘No,’ said Noble. ‘We just need to straighten it out and tick it off as a dead end. I thought it best to bring them in early so the media wouldn’t get wind of it. At the moment, everyone in the area is looking sideways at their neighbours, not sure if they’re living next door to a child killer or a paedo. Any reports about the Stapletons being brought in and they’ll be. . .’ he cast around for a suitable word.
    As usual Brook came to the rescue. ‘Demonised.’
    Noble jabbed a finger in Brook’s direction. ‘So the sooner I get to speak to them. . .’
    ‘Mind if I give you one more piece of advice, John?’ ventured Brook.
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘If you want to protect them, get them out of here now.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Hendrickson’s on reception.’
    Noble’s brow furrowed. ‘Sir, I know you and Hendrickson don’t see eye to eye—’
    ‘Remember the leaks to the local rag about the Plummer rape a few years ago?’
    ‘You don’t know that was Hendrickson.’
    ‘I couldn’t prove it, no. But Brian Burton splashed sensitive details on the front page of the Telegraph the next day and the prosecution collapsed. And that wasn’t the only time it’s happened in a big case.’
    ‘Sir, why—?’
    ‘Hendrickson’s close to retirement, John. And local coppers of his generation. . . did things differently. Briefing a journalist for a drink was accepted practice in their day.’
    ‘Most of the time it’s harmless.’
    ‘It wasn’t during the Deity inquiry.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘We brought in one of the parents, remember?’
    ‘So?’
    ‘Who turned up out of the blue with a photographer when we picked him up? Brian Burton. The next day, front-page news.’
    ‘Yeah, but the father was cleared.’
    ‘He committed suicide, John.’
    ‘You can’t blame Brian Burton for that. Or Hendrickson.’
    ‘And you can’t prove Burton’s coverage didn’t have an effect on how things ended. The man’s a lowlife.’
    Noble was deep in thought. ‘So you think Burton could be on his way now?’
    ‘Photographer in tow,’ added Brook.
    Noble opened the door to leave. ‘Your first day back, in your shoes, don’t you think you should worry about your meeting with Charlton?’
    ‘Would you want to be in