He leaned over as far as he could, craning to try and see what had happened, what was on the road.
The ginger policeman was crouched beside a body, looking at it. The other, the large one, was standing above it, shining a light down into its face.
Bod looked at the face of the fallen body—then he began to bang on the window, frantically, desperately.
The large policeman came over to the car.
“What?” he said, irritably.
“You hit my—my dad,” said Bod.
“You’re kidding.”
“It looks like him,” said Bod. “Can I look properly?”
The large policeman’s shoulders slumped. “Oy! Simon, the kid says it’s his dad.”
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.”
“I think he’s serious.” The large policeman opened the door, and Bod got out.
Silas was sprawled on his back, on the ground, where the car had knocked him. He was deathly still.
Bod’s eyes prickled.
He said, “Dad?” Then he said, “You killed him.” He wasn’t lying, he told himself—not really.
“I’ve called an ambulance,” said Simon, the ginger-mustached policeman.
“It was an accident,” said the other.
Bod crouched by Silas, and he squeezed Silas’s cold hand in his. If they had already called an ambulance there was not much time. He said, “So that’s your careers over, then.”
“It was an accident—you saw!”
“He just stepped out—”
“What I saw,” said Bod, “is that you agreed to do a favor for your niece, and frighten a kid she’s been fighting with at school. So you arrested me without a warrant for being out late, and then when my dad runs out into the road to try and stop you or to find out what was going on, you intentionally ran him over.”
“It was an accident!” repeated Simon.
“You’ve been fighting with Mo at school?” said Mo’s uncle Tam, but he didn’t sound convincing.
“We’re both in Eight B at the Old Town School,” said Bod. “And you killed my dad.”
Far off, he could hear the sound of sirens.
“Simon,” said the large man, “we have to talk about this.”
They walked over to the other side of the car, leaving Bod alone in the shadows with the fallen Silas. Bod could hear the two policemen talking heatedly—“Your bloody niece!” was used, and so was “If you’d kept your eyes on the road!” Simon jabbed his finger into Tam’s chest…
Bod whispered, “They aren’t looking. Now.” And he Faded.
There was a swirl of deeper darkness, and the body on the ground was now standing beside him.
Silas said, “I’ll take you home. Put your arms around my neck.”
Bod did, holding tightly to his guardian, and they plunged through the night, heading for the graveyard.