Free Pawn by Greg Curtis

find when he did.
     
    “I live alone inspector. No one else has a key, not that these people used one.” He indicated the broken doorframe with his free hand. “And as for my family, I haven’t seen them in years.” And he never wanted to see them again considering the way their last encounter had gone. There was a reason he had lived with nightmares all his life. There was a reason his phone was unlisted and his home was registered as belonging to his own private company.
     
    “Really? Because this looks very much like your older brother’s handiwork.” Maybe it did in a way. Daryl was a dedicated smash and grab thief and he loved making a mess. But he didn’t do houses. Not because of any noble concern for the people who might be at home, but simply because there usually wasn’t a lot of money in them. Stores, especially those with good sales and big glass windows he could break, were more his scene, and if he could find someone to beat up in the process, so much the better. Daryl liked hurting people. He had violence in his soul. But greed too.
     
    “There’s not enough here for Daryl to give a toss about. He’s a violent thug but he doesn’t risk getting caught lightly. He wouldn’t do this. Not without a cause. Not without some serious money he could make. Though he’d be happy enough wrecking the place.” Actually if he knew where Rufus lived, he’d have done it just for fun, and then smashed his face in as well and maybe killed him. The two of them had never really been brothers. Their relationship was always one of bully and victim. But then they didn’t see each other, so that worked out well for both of them.
     
    “And your father, what’s he been up to lately?” Rufus sighed as he realised the inspector had been right through his family history, and he wasn’t going to stop asking annoying questions until he’d asked about each and every one of them.
     
    “I don’t know inspector. I haven’t seen my father in more than a decade. Or for that matter, my mother or my older sister. No doubt they’re all up to no good, robbing, extorting, killing, but none of that has anything to do with me.” That was an understatement and then some. He and his family had parted on less than amicable terms, actually his brother had tried to pummel him to a pulp with an axe. He’d never wanted to see them again after that, and they he assumed held the same opinion about him.
     
    “Not even a little art theft? You weren’t tempted?”
     
    “My old man’s been stealing art again has he?” It wasn’t really a question, just another accusation. But at least he now had some idea of why the people in the speeding truck had started shooting at him. Apparently it was an art theft, though whether his family were involved was another matter. “No he wouldn’t ask me. After all the last time we had that conversation it ended badly for both of us.
     
    “Ahh the incident in the park.”
     
    “If by incident you mean attempted murder as Daryl tried to chop me up into tiny pieces with an axe and the rest of my loving family cheered him on”. If he laid the sarcasm on a little more thick than he should have, it was only because he still remembered that day with terrible clarity. It wasn’t something easily forgotten. But at least he had survived it, as he had somehow survived the rest of his childhood. The inspector didn’t get it though. Maybe he hadn’t read the reports.
     
    “Brothers fight all the time.”
     
    “How many of them use an axe?” He could have shown him the scars, but there was no point. It was a matter of record and he could read about it or not as he chose. But Rufus was getting tired by then. Too many shocks in too few days. He couldn’t take much more.
     
    “Look inspector. My father beat me from when I was a young baby. My older brother helped him, my older sister laughed throughout, and my darling mother told me I was a mistake that should never have been born. I was