Stanford shook his head and laughed. ‘No, it turns out that our … well our, yeah, our son, has a sister. She’s three. She’s been in foster care but with another borough and they only found out about her a couple of days ago.’
‘Oh, wow. Oh shit.’
‘Exactly. It’s … I’m trying to get my head around it. We were getting the house ready for one kid and now … fucking hell, Eastie.’
‘How’s Gene dealing with it?’
‘Oh, he’s not. He got pissed last night and passed out on the sofa. He was still there when I left this morning. We’ve got—’
A loud rapping on the security glass interrupted Stanford.
‘Right, you’ve got a problem,’ the receptionist said loudly as Stanford and Eastwood approached and he roughly pushed their warrant cards and authorisation letter back through the service hatch. ‘Karim Messenger is refusing to come out of his cell. He doesn’t want to see you and unless you’re planning to arrest him for something, I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.’
‘Thank you for the legal advice,’ said Eastwood. ‘What about Humphreys?’
‘He’s still good to go but he’s currently appearing via video link at Manchester Crown Court.’
‘He’s back at court?’ Stanford asked as the receptionist pressed a button under the desk and a staff door opened. ‘What for?’
‘Threw a kettle filled with boiling water and sugar at his cellmate when they were rioting,’ the receptionist replied as he ushered them into the prison.
Gareth Humphreys adjusted the blue, torn bib over his protruding stomach as the prison guard slammed the door shut. ‘The weird thing is that I’ve been sitting in Strangeways for what, six months, and no one has visited me. And today, I’m Mr Popular,’ he said.
Gareth smiled revealing a gap where his left incisor and canine tooth should have been. His face showed all the signs that he’d been in a fight. A bruise covered his left cheek and lower jaw with a row of black stitches across the bridge of his nose. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair revealing another cut on his forehead. ‘Even my own mam and kids haven’t visited me,’ he said.
‘They’ve probably had enough of you,’ Eastwood said. ‘Hurry up and sit down before the guards start getting concerned.’
‘Dutifully noted,’ Gareth replied. The table edge pressed into his stomach as he settled himself into the seat. ‘So, who exactly are you?’ he asked. ‘All they told me was that the police wanted to see me, but you’re from London and according to my socialdiary, the last time I was down in London was to watch City in a Champions League game about six years ago.’
‘I’m DS Eastwood and this is DS Stanford. We’re from the Serial Crimes Unit.’
Gareth paled as his eyes darted from Eastwood to Stanford and then the door. His Adam’s apple bulged as he swallowed, his hand reaching for a cup of water that didn’t exist. ‘Why would … why do you want to talk to me? Don’t you lot deal with serial killers? I wouldn’t know anything about that.’
‘We think you do know something,’ said Eastwood. ‘We want to talk to you about the group you were a part of, Iron Shadow.’
‘Why?’ asked Gareth. ‘I’m not involved in any of that stuff anymore.’
‘That’s only because you’re stuck in here,’ said Stanford.
‘No, no,’ Gareth said, shaking his head. ‘It was all over with them after I did that first stint inside for assaulting that fucking paedo.’
‘You mean Mantell. Your brother-in-law.’
‘Who else would I be talking about? I still can’t believe my sister stood by him. Defended him in court. The sick fuck.’
‘But that’s not true, is it, that you weren’t involved in that stuff anymore?’ said Eastwood. ‘You were released on licence in October 2019 and was suspected of being involved in another assault a month later.’
Gareth’s eyes grew smaller, his stomach rising and falling as he inhaled sharply. ‘Are you planning to arrest me for that again?’
‘No. We just want information. We’re investigating the murder of three people and the attempted murder of two others.’
‘Down in London?’
‘Bloody hell, you’re quick,’ said Stanford, rolling his eyes. ‘Yes, down in London. Look, you and Messenger both did time for harassing and assaulting Mantell and even though you were still serving your sentence when Gong Bo Hyoo was attacked, we suspect you know who was involved and told them how to really painfully punish someone.’
Gareth sniffed as though he’d suddenly developed a cold, his face reddening and developing an oily sheen as sweat pushed through his large pores.
‘Someone attempted to tar and feather Gong Bo Hyoo by using sulphuric acid,’ said Eastwood. ‘Which kind of fits with your MO. Weren’t you in court half an hour ago to enter a plea to a charge of causing grievous bodily harm with intent? Poured boiling sugar over an inmate.’
