No Place Like Home by Jane Renshaw (top 10 non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📕

peeled off at one point and David and Max left the wood to walk round the paddock and the house. That was when Bram saw them and came out onto the verandah to talk to them. Then they continued back into the wood.

‘This is brilliant,’ said Kirsty. ‘It surely shows that Max is innocent.’

And then it all happened at once, the action speeded up almost comically. A third figure came into shot from the left of the screen, there was a blurry tussle, and David grabbed a long object from him and hit out with it, causing the third figure to stumble back.

As Kirsty hit ‘pause’, the figure froze, off balance, David’s compact form leaning towards him, chin jutting aggressively.

‘Oh my God,’ breathed Bram.

Kirsty replayed the sequence at normal speed.

They sat there in silence as the figure appeared – a tall, lean figure whose head, in the infrared glow, was less bright than David and Max’s because, of course, it was insulated by the mask and, presumably, the beanie hat – and David pounced with a wordless shout, and they grappled together, each trying to wrest from the other something long with a triangular-shaped end.

A gun.

It was an airgun or a shotgun.

It was like watching a fight from a science fiction film, the two un-human-like, glowing figures merging and separating as they struggled, grunting and growling. A third figure – Max – darted in, but David said, ‘Stay back, Max!’ and Max backed away. David eventually got the gun from Finn and lashed out with it, lashed out at his head, and Finn staggered back, the top of his head glowing brighter as, Bram assumed, the beanie hat fell off.

‘You fucker!’ David’s tinny, disembodied voice filled the room as he hit him again, and again, holding the gun like a club. Finn stumbled away, disappearing and reappearing as he moved into the trees, and David strode after him.

‘Oh God,’ Kirsty breathed.

‘Oh God,’ a voice repeated. Max, on the video. ‘Grandad!’

‘Stay there, Max!’ came David’s voice.

The two glowing shapes had now disappeared, and Max’s legs came into shot as Bertie turned to him.

‘Okay, Bertie, okay,’ Max whispered, bending over him. Then: ‘Grandad!’ he shouted again, and began to move off, the picture shaking as Bertie followed him.

But now David was back, the alien infrared version of him, his heavy breathing audible on the soundtrack. ‘Bastard got away,’ he puffed, bending over to get his breath. In one hand he still held the gun. Then he straightened, and took hold of Max, and the shot became a close-up as Bertie moved in too, pushing his nose at them, ignored by them both.

‘You need to keep your mouth shut about this, right, lad? I’ve already got a suspended sentence for assault. If the law finds out about this, I’m going to jail.’

‘But he might go to the police. Whoever it was – He might accuse you of assault!’

‘No way. How would he explain how it happened? “That’s right, officer, I was off out terrorising the Hendriksens as usual…?” That bastard knows he’s got to keep his trap shut about this, and so must you. Okay, Max?’

‘Okay.’ Max sounded so young, so scared but so trusting. Bram wanted to reach into the screen and hug him. ‘Who was it? Who do you think it was?’

‘No idea. But that’s quite a whack I gave him. Anyone seen sporting a head wound in the next few days, we’ll have our man.’

‘And then what?’

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.’

Kirsty stopped the footage, and they stared at each other for a long moment. From the landing above, Phoebe called out: ‘Daaad? Where’s my blue and white top?’

‘In the drawer, Phoebe,’ he called back. ‘Second one down, I think.’

He looked at the screen of his laptop, at David’s glowing image. ‘This explains why Finn was weaving around when I first saw him, that night. David had already hit him. Concussed him…’

‘It could have been the injuries Dad inflicted that were the fatal ones,’ Kirsty said numbly. ‘He hit him hard. You can see from the video that he hit him hard. Bram…’ She grabbed his arm. ‘You know what you’re like – you literally wouldn’t hurt a fly, normally. You thought you hit Finn’s head hard against that bracket, but you might not have! You might be exaggerating it, in your head. The real damage…’

‘… Could have been caused by David,’ Bram finished, looking back at the screen where the glowing shape of David was frozen, an arm slung across Max’s shoulders. He tapped ‘play’, and the two figures moved off across the grass, Bertie trotting after them.

Kirsty jumped up from her chair. ‘For all he knows, he killed Finn. He probably did! And he’s letting Max take the rap?’

‘Isn’t that what we’re doing?’ Bram had to say, in fairness.

‘No, of course it isn’t! We know what happened, so we know there can’t be enough evidence against Max to charge him! But Dad doesn’t. For all Dad knows, Max went back out there once he and Fraser had gone, and found Finn’s body, and took it off in his car to dispose of it, leaving forensic evidence all over the car and Finn. For all he knows, Max is in this mess because of him, and he’s sitting on his hands doing nothing!’ She was sobbing hysterically.

Bram put an arm around her. ‘In fairness, he’s getting him a lawyer.’

‘Oh, big deal!’ She turned her tear-stained face up to Bram. ‘He’s a monster! My dad’s a monster!’

24

After Phoebe had had breakfast, they sat her down and told her that Max had gone to the police station to answer some questions, but it was nothing to worry about.

‘What questions?’ she demanded, lower lip trembling.

‘Well, about what happened the night Finn disappeared,’ said Bram.

‘But Max didn’t kill him!’

‘No, no, of course not. They just have to ask people what they were doing that night.’

‘How long will it take?’

God. ‘Not sure, kleintje.’

‘Dad and I are going to the police