Joel skidded the Ford to a halt outside the Maddon house, went running up the drive and hammered on the front door. The street was in near silence, just the light patter of the rain on the slick pavements. After a few moments he saw an upstairs light come on behind blue curtains. Seconds later, the downstairs hall lit up and a shape appeared behind the frosted glass of the door.
‘Who is it?’ said a rasping voice.
‘Police,’ Joel replied. ‘Open the door, please.’
The door opened slowly. Behind it stood a man who looked like a heavier, hairier and balder version of Dec. He was wrapped in a tartan dressing gown and didn’t look too happy to be disturbed.
‘Mr Maddon?’
Dec’s father ran his eye up and down Joel. ‘You don’t look much like a policeman to me, so you don’t,’ he said gruffly. ‘Let’s see some ID then.’
‘Mr Maddon, I came to see Dec.’
‘Right. Where’s the ID?’
‘My name’s Joel Solomon.’
‘I don’t care what you call yourself. Show me your warrant card or get the fuck off me doorstep. It’s almost one in the friggin’ morning. People are trying to get some sleep here. We work for a living.’
A middle-aged woman Joel took to be Mrs Maddon appeared in the hallway with her arms folded. She was about two feet shorter than her husband but looked twice as hard.
‘Who is it, Liam?’
‘Some joker says he’s a cop,’ Liam Maddon said, still staring at Joel. Mrs Maddon’s brow creased.
‘Is this about our Dec? Has something happened?’
‘Isn’t he here?’ Joel asked her.
‘We’re telling you nothing, mister, until we see some proper identification. This bastard could be anybody, Beth.’ He turned back to Joel. ‘Understand? Now fuck off.’
And he slammed the door in Joel’s face.
Joel stood on the doorstep for a moment, then sighed and started heading back to the car, wondering what to do next.
As he was about to get into the Mondeo and drive off, he heard footsteps behind him and a voice said, ‘Psst! Officer?’
Joel looked round to see another version of Dec Maddon sneaking down the drive towards him. He looked about five, maybe six years older than his brother, dark and unshaven and was built like he did a lot of weights.
‘I’m Cormac,’ he whispered.
‘Joel.’
‘I know who you are. Dec’s talked about you. I’m sorry me da sent you away. He can be a right wanker sometimes, so he can.’
‘Where is Dec? I need to talk to him.’
‘That’s what I came out here to tell you. Dec’s gone funny.’
Joel glanced up at the house. The upstairs light had gone off again and the house had fallen into darkness, but someone could still be watching from the window.
‘Let’s talk in the car.’ He slung the metal case into the back seat as Cormac climbed into the passenger side.
‘Cameras, is it?’ Cormac asked, pointing at the case.
‘Yeah,’ Joel said, shutting his door. ‘Now, I think you’d better explain. How has Dec gone funny?’
‘Ever since the wee girl next door died.’
Joel stared at him. ‘Kate Hawthorne? Dead? When?’
Cormac shrugged. ‘Couple of days ago. Terrible, isn’t it? She just faded away, like. Family’s in a right state. I never liked them much. Bunch o’ snobs, especially that Gillian. But you have to feel sorry for them.’
‘Where’s Dec now?’
‘Gone to stay at a mate’s. Won’t come back to the house. He’s just acting weird, like.’
‘Have you seen him?’
‘Just talked on the phone a couple of times. He sounded ill. I went round there but he wouldn’t let me in.’ Cormac frowned. ‘He may be a wee shit, but he’s me brother. I’m worried about him.’
‘Tell me where this mate’s place is.’
‘I’ll show you the way as we drive.’
Joel glanced at the case on the seat behind them. ‘I think it’s best if you stay here, Cormac.’