A Chance Encounter Rae Shaw (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

small talk failed; he said nothing. She twirled a pen with agitated fingers and cleared her throat with a fake cough.

The ache behind his eyes strengthened and the fluorescent lights glared. He examined his shaking hands with their chewed fingernails, hating that he couldn’t control his feelings. ‘You’ve got bad news, haven’t you?’

‘Sorry. Let me fill you in.’ She kept her eyes on the documents. ‘The witness is an old friend of your father’s. He was with Bill on the night... well, he was there—’

‘So why didn’t he come forward?’

‘Because he was loyal to your father,’ she said carefully.

‘Loyal? By keeping his mouth shut and letting Dad sit in prison for years!’ Mark folded his arms across his chest.

She picked up a piece of paper and smoothed it flat in front of her. ‘Your father was arrested, tried and convicted of murder. The murdered man was important. His death caused a war between the gangs, retributions, other killings until things settled down. Bill pleaded not guilty to murder and the lesser charge of manslaughter and claimed self-defence. He was found guilty of murder and the judge indicated in his summing up that there was no evidence of pre-meditation: a mitigating circumstance.’

‘I know all this,’ Mark said, impatiently.

‘A life sentence with a minimum of ten years. However, your father has maintained his innocence so no early parole on licence is likely. The courts have it in their power to increase his sentence.’

‘Increase? What are you getting at?’ Mark swallowed a mouthful of bile down. So far, things were heading in a terrible direction.

‘The witness kept his mouth shut because his evidence, if presented in court, would have been seen by the defence as hostile. He would not have made life easier for your father by blabbing about that day. He wanted to protect your father. He’s moved several times, to keep out of trouble, and lives in London now. Luke and I went to meet him in a pub. I’m sorry, Mark, but your father isn’t an angel.’

‘I know. He kept bad company. He worked hard though, there was always money, food, clothes.’ His voice trembled and his heart pounded. Surely she wasn’t implying his father was guilty of murder?

‘Luke is good at cross-examining. The man wouldn’t speak at first. Tight lipped. We talked about knowing the truth. That you, your mum, and Ellen, had a right to know the truth. That if what he had to say was never going to be heard in a court of law, then it should be said for your sake. He remains loyal to Bill, but they haven’t spoken since the court case. He remembers you as a teenager. He saw you at a distance coming and going from your home. He never visited Bill if you or your sister were home.’

‘I went out a lot,’ Mark said quietly. Sophia hadn't mentioned where Deidre was during these visits.

‘They got sucked down, Mark, sucked down into another world. It wasn't simply about petty thieving. Bill Clewer was the right-hand man in a gang that controlled an entire housing estate. He was very aware of what was going on. It might have started out differently, who knows, but he was drawn into something much bigger. Uglier.’

‘Oh, God, no.’

‘They were foolish, he admitted that. Bill considered giving it up; he wanted a fresh start so he could put you through college.’

Mark had heard countless times about his father’s unachieved ambitions in life.

Sophia avoided eye contact. ‘It wasn’t unplanned, the murder. Your father always intended to kill this man.’

His throat narrowed, choking him. He loosened the strangling tie and gasped for breath. ‘I don't understand… There was an argument… and they fought.’

She poured him a glass of water; her hands shook like his. ‘He went to negotiate, on behalf of his boss, some deal involving girls. They needed girls for prostituting. Bill wasn’t in the car. He leaned through the window, and without warning, stabbed the man in the heart. The other knife was planted by your father in the dead man’s hand. This witness, who was the lookout man, hid behind a wall and watched. Afterwards, he panicked and ran for it. He's been on the run ever since, both from the police and the gangs.’

Bill had gone with two knives, not one. If that evidence had been presented in court, it would have sealed his fate. The defence had been adamant that Bill brought one knife and he used it in self-defence.

He pushed the glass away, unable to swallow a thing, and buried his head in his hands. Nothing made sense. ‘I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. He’s lying.’ He refused to shed angry tears.

‘The witness sounded very convincing. We recorded the conversation. He didn’t know that we did. Luke, though, insisted we should. If I played it to you, you'd hear it in his voice, Mark. Don’t though. Don't listen to it. It won’t help you.’

The ticking of the wall clock punctuated the silence, reminding him in all that time, eight years, Bill had never said anything other than to reiterate his innocence. He had maintained a fabrication for whose benefit? Squaring his shoulders, Mark took a deep breath.

‘My father has being lying to me, to Mum for years. Why?’ He raised his hands, then dropped them into his lap.

‘Who knows. Denial is a powerful emotion. As strong as grief and anger. You can believe he’s determined to end his criminal activities. Yet, he killed a man. Hardly the actions of somebody trying to escape the life.’

‘I can’t believe he cold-bloodedly murdered somebody. My dad! I know he's a rogue, a likeable rogue. Bright, in his own way. He blessed me with his intelligence but wasted his time at school – more interested in sports than education. He taught me to be honourable, even while he