Page 32 of The Other Side
The hallway was wide and spotless. Family photographs lined the walls. Tim appeared in plenty of them holding football trophies, school awards, and in one Drum saw a grinning boy holding a trout almost as long as his arm.
“Study,” his father said, leading Drum through the house.
The room overlooked a large garden. Everything about it was orderly. Books arranged by height. Files stacked neatly. A desk so tidy it looked unused.
“Sit down.”
Drum remained standing. The man frowned at that.
“Is Tim home?”
“He’s upstairs.”
“Could you get him, please?”
The man’s jaw tightened.
“I’d rather know why a police officer wants to speak to my seventeen-year-old son before I drag him down here.”
Drum wasn’t legally required to tell him why he wanted to speak to his son, but he suspected the father would make it difficult if he didn’t.
“Tim was out with Liam and James Varley late last night. I came across them on the road past Mr Breakwater’s farm. They had one sheep in a van and were trying to load another.”
“Ah.”
“Ah?” Drum repeated.
The man rubbed a hand across his mouth, then walked to the door and shouted, “Timothy! Downstairs. Now.”
The reply floated down a few seconds later. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Another pause. Then heavy footsteps.
Curly-haired Tim entered the study carrying all the confidence the Varley twins had lacked. Designer jeans, designer T-shirt, designer trainers. He took one look at Drum and sighed.
“Take a seat,” Drum said.
Tim dropped into a chair.
His father remained standing behind him.
Drum noticed the boy didn’t seem nervous. Annoyed, perhaps. Embarrassed. But not worried.
“Liam says the sheep idea was yours.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “Of course he did.”
“Was it?”
“We came up with it together. It was just a joke.”
“A joke involving stolen livestock worth a few hundred pounds.”
“We weren’t actually going to keep them.”
“You had one sheep in the Varleys’ van.”
