The voice came again through the hole in the bandage. Louder. And, alarmingly, it was speaking in English. ‘Not quite all. I have something to offer the lady. Where are you, miss? Not seeing too well … my eyes have been pounded to a pulp.’
The padded head moved slowly from left to right, seeking her out, until she took a step forward and whispered, ‘I’m here.’
Joe’s hands clamped round her upper arms and jerked her backwards out of shot, as, with a spitting hiss, a broken tooth in a gobbet of blood landed at her feet.
Lily was still twitching with shock as Kent locked up the cell behind them. ‘Sorry, miss. Who’d ever have thought it? He must have been saving that up in his cheek. Little offering for the magistrate is probably what he had in mind.’
Joe, embarrassed and uncomfortable, gave her a moment to pull herself together and then asked, confident of her answer: ‘No need to take a look at the other one, I think, Wentworth? Just more of the same.’
‘No, sir, I’d like to see Sean number two if you wouldn’t mind.’
Kent sighed and shrugged and sought out the key for the second cell.
The same sorry spectacle presented itself in here. The same carefully arranged concealing bandages were in place. Sandilands judged they had been applied by the professional hand of a nurse or doctor following the police interrogation.
Kent performed the introductions.
‘Sean — I don’t know if you can see me? No? I’m a woman police officer. I’ve not come to take a statement.’ Her carefully prepared questions ran into the sand as she stared with pity at the small, battered body. ‘I just wondered if there was anything you’d like me to hear. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll go away and leave you in peace.’