Free The Secret Dead (London Bones Book 1) by SW Fairbrother Page B

Adam said, ‘My mother died of cancer when I was fifteen.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
    ‘It’s okay. It was a long time ago.’
    He looked uncomfortable. ‘The only other person close enough to count as family is Jillie’s brother, but I’ve already called him. He said he hasn’t seen them, but I don’t know if he was telling the truth or not. He’s never been a big fan of my side of the family. He might hide Ben but not Malcolm.’
    ‘I know him,’ I said. Samson Comfort ran a day spa and holiday cottages for shifters. He put up the occasional vulnerable client when we couldn’t find an immediate refuge for them. ‘I’ll call him again. We’re on good terms. What about friends?’
    ‘I don’t know. I can’t think of anyone who’d take him in knowing he was dead. I’ve called all the mutual friends I can think of, but the only person Malcolm would even consider going to is Obe.’
    We both looked at Obe. He shook his head.
    ‘What about Ben?’
    ‘He doesn’t have any friends,’ Adam said.
    ‘None at all?’
    ‘He’s only in London for two weeks a year, and he spends most of that reading.’
    Obe frowned. ‘Malcolm sent him on one of the teen outreach programmes last week. He could have met someone there.’
    We all looked at each other. Meet someone on a course, ask them to hide a dead father a week later. It was a bit of a stretch, but I didn’t have any better ideas.
    ‘We should have a list of the participants somewhere,’ I said. ‘I’ll see if Malcolm saved a copy to the main drive. Obe can pull in some favours, put the word out among our clients that if anyone sees anything they need to let us know.’
    Before I had the chance to mention the favour I’d promised Haddad, Obe pulled at his beard and said, ‘Shouldn’t the police be the ones doing this?’
    Adam’s face tightened. ‘You mean the people who just tried to shoot Ben?’
    ‘It wasn’t bullets. They use tranquiliser darts,’ I said.
    ‘So? That’s just as bad. If they’d hit him, a fall from that height could have killed him.’
    I raised my hands, conceding the point.
    Obe coloured. ‘I mean if we find Ben or Malcolm, and the police think we were trying to hide them, we’ll all end up in prison.’
    Adam set his mug down on the desk hard enough that it cracked. I jumped. ‘That lot don’t know their arse from their elbow. They’re the ones who let Ben fly off. And if they’d have been any better at hitting a moving target, Ben would be dead .’
    Obe visibly shrank back.
    Adam sighed, and his shoulders sank. ‘I’m sorry. This whole thing is really freaking me out. What happens when they catch Ben? I know harbouring a zombie is a mandatory sentence, but Ben’s only fourteen. They’ll take that into account, won’t they? He’s too young to go to prison.’
    Obe’s beard shifted as he gave a smile acknowledging the apology. ‘The age of criminal responsibility in England is ten. And the Necroambulism Act was designed to be draconian. There’s not a lot of wriggle room.’
    I grabbed at a straw. ‘But there is some?’
    Obe waggled his hand back and forth. ‘Not if they catch him. It’s a minimum five years. He’s under fifteen, so it would be a Secure Children’s Home first, then they’d move him to a Young Offenders Institution.’
    Adam broke in. ‘So he wouldn’t be in with the adults. That doesn’t sound so bad.’
    ‘Yes, it would be,’ Obe said. ‘Malcolm and I did enough time in institutions. It would kill him to know his son is in one.’ The irony of his statement seemed to pass him by.
    I said, ‘You said if they catch him. What if Ben turns himself in?’
    ‘Then the judge would have a lot more leeway in his sentencing. There’s precedent for avoiding a custodial sentence. There was a case in Birmingham a year ago where the defendant was given only a Youth Rehabilitation Order. Those circumstances were different, but the girl in that case was also harbouring a zombie, and I