Killing a Stranger (14 page)

But now, Clara felt, the time for secrecy and half truth and even the sparing of feelings was long gone. She phoned Alec Friedman and told him her news, then demanded a meeting with him. Having got agreement on that, she saw to it that Ernst and Jennifer and Rob's friends were also appraised of her demands.

And, she thought, demand or command it had been. A new energy had flooded her mind, brought a restlessness to her body since Jennifer's visit and Clara could not keep still.

Alec arrived first, then Ernst, accompanied by Jennifer. Patrick, Charlie and a reluctant Becky kept the others waiting only for a few minutes before they too settled, perched on chairs or on cushions on the floor. Clara had brought tea and coffee pots on trays with mugs and milk. She set the sugar bowl down upon the low table and seated herself in the vacant chair.

‘Now,' she said, nodding at Alec. ‘No more secrets, no more lies. Everything there is to know, we share now. And we'll begin with you.'

Alec took two files from his briefcase – a present from Naomi he was still getting used to using; his usual style was a plastic carrier from the local supermarket. He glanced uncertainly at Clara. Personally, he thought this was a crazy idea. The two girls were looking daggers at one another, Becky taking in Jennifer's swelling belly and her eyes darting questions at Clara.

‘The post mortem report,' he said. ‘If Rob had been driving, he'd have been three times over the limit. On top of that, there were the drugs …'

Clara shuddered. ‘I don't believe that,' she said. ‘Rob wasn't into …'

‘The tox results don't lie, Clara. I'm sorry.'

‘Rob … did smoke stuff,' Becky said reluctantly, ‘and did other stuff too. I don't know exactly what.'

‘Becky, we said no lies. If you know something more …'

‘I don't, Clara,' Becky told her indignantly. She jerked her chin towards Jennifer. ‘Maybe you should ask
her
.'

‘Why should I know? You were his girlfriend.
Supposedly
.'

‘What do you mean, supposedly?'

‘Girls, please!' Ernst frowned them both into silence. ‘This is not the time or the place. Nor is it necessary.' He turned to Becky. ‘My dear, Jennifer was no threat to you.'

Becky scowled but lapsed into silence.

Alec continued. ‘We know that Rob left Charlie's party just after ten. By eleven fifteen, Adam Hensel was dead. Now, we have no evidence that Rob got a taxi or caught a bus. In fact, there were no direct buses anyway. So, if he walked, which seems most likely, he could not have met up with Adam much before eleven o'clock. The confrontation, whatever presaged it, must have lasted for a very short space. We know that Adam was stabbed with his own knife, which begs the question, how did it come to be in Rob's hand?

‘We know now, that Adam and Rob were not unknown to one another. Did they arrange a meeting? Did Rob contrive his argument with Becky so that he could keep that appointment? If that's so, it might explain why Adam was so far from home. The location does now make sense though, being only a few streets from where Jennifer, Adam's niece, and her family live.'

‘Adam was visiting on that night,' Ernst confirmed. ‘Beth said he called and asked if they'd be in. He didn't say why. She was glad to see him.'

‘She thought it was odd, though,' Jennifer supplied. ‘Uncle Adam wasn't exactly spontaneous.'

‘No, no, he wasn't.'

‘Which fact mitigates in favour of a prearranged meeting,' Alec noted.

‘But, how did he know Adam Hensel?' Becky wanted to know.

‘It wasn't really Adam that was the link,' Clara told her. ‘It was Jennifer.'

‘I knew it,'

‘No, you don't know it,' Clara told her. ‘Rob was looking for his father, you told me that. He thought the man he was looking for was Aiden Ryan. Jennifer is his daughter.'

Slowly, hesitantly, she explained what Rob had been about.

Alec left about a half hour later. There was little he could add. He felt guilty that he could promise no resources to look into these developments. He would tell his bosses, but he knew the case would be left on the back burner unless and until something more dramatic came to light. Nothing had changed as regard the outcome of the investigation. Rob was still guilty; Adam Hensel was still dead. Case solved.

He offered Patrick a lift home, was unsurprised when it was declined. Feeling oddly sorry for himself – after all, he'd joined the police force to solve problems, not be beaten by them – he made his way to Naomi's.

Naomi greeted him with her usual enthusiasm, though, he reminded himself, determined to wallow, she still hadn't allowed him to set a date for the wedding.

Napoleon nuzzled at his pockets, tail beating at Alec's leg. ‘Sorry, old man, I don't have anything for you.'

‘Makes a change,' Naomi observed.

‘I've not eaten since breakfast,' Alec confessed. ‘Been one of those days.'

She laughed. ‘I cooked, yours just needs reheating. I figured you'd be round sometime tonight.'

‘You are an angel.'

‘No, just an ex cop used to missing meals. Well, did you have your meeting?'

‘Yes, oh boy yes.'

‘That good?'

‘That good.'

He filled in the blanks while the microwave did its thing.

‘Anything you didn't tell the family?'

He reached for a tray and carried food and a glass of beer through to the living room, flopped down on the sofa with it on his lap.

‘Can't get anything past you, can I? No.' He cut into the pie. The crust had gone slightly soggy, but he was too hungry to care. ‘Chicken, that's nice. No, it was just a rumour really, not even that, I suppose. Some woman phoned a few days after Adam Hensel was killed, she said he frequented prostitutes in Pinsent.'

‘You follow it up?'

‘Sure. No joy. We showed his picture to all the regular girls, trawled the streets, no joy at all. So, seeing as she'd insisted on being Mrs Anonymous, we listed it as a possible malicious call. Every high profile investigation gets its crank calls, you know that.'

‘Yes and I know you're feeding that dog chicken.'

‘I am not.'

‘Alec. I could hear you blowing on it to cool it down and now I can hear him slobbering. No more.'

Alec shrugged apologetically at the dog. ‘Sorry, old man, she's found us out again.'

‘You corrupt that dog.'

‘Corrupt? Never.'

‘So, no dirt on Adam Hensel then?'

‘Not that we found, but to be truthful, we didn't dig that hard. Open and shut case and the perp killed himself. After which, resources were diverted elsewhere.'

‘Hmm …' Naomi was thoughtful. ‘But what does your instinct tell you?'

‘My instinct tells me that Hensel set up the meeting. I figure he wanted to warn Rob off. Things got nasty. My guess is that Hensel pulled the knife, seeing as it was his that seems a logical assumption. Rob either took it off him or they struggled and we'll probably never know which. Hensel winds up on the wrong end of the blade. End of story.'

‘Not a very satisfactory end.'

‘Is there ever a satisfactory end to something like this? No, Clara and Ernst Hensel will run it ragged for a while but they'll soon realize they can't achieve any more than we already have. There must have been a fight; a man ended up dead.'

‘Was Hensel sober?'

Alec chewed and swallowed before replying. ‘No. He was not. He'd been over at his sister's, left the car there saying he'd take a taxi. He had, according to the sister, had two, three glasses of wine. Her husband, Aiden, he reckons he put away more than that.'

‘Dutch courage?'

‘On both sides, probably. Booze, sharp pointy objects, lethal combination. Happens weekly on a street near you. The ironic thing is, Aiden was probably nothing to do with Rob. My money's on the boyfriend and Clara's still not putting a name to the sperm.'

‘I'm going to have to tell the rest of the family about this meeting,' Ernst said regretfully.

‘Do you have to, Granddad?'

‘You can't keep going behind their back,' Clara said quietly. ‘They'll be hurt even more; it's bound to come out sooner or later.'

‘I suppose.' Jennifer shifted restlessly and stretched her legs out in front of her. She massaged the calf muscle; it was threatening to cramp. Again.

‘When is the baby due?'

Jennifer looked up in surprise. The boy they'd called Patrick had barely spoken all evening and now he did it seemed an odd question for a boy to ask. ‘Um, April. The fourth.'

He nodded. ‘That must seem kind of scary. I'd be terrified.'

Jen blinked, surprised again. ‘I am a bit.' She became aware that they were the focus of attention and blushed, looked away.

‘We should go,' Charlie said. ‘Clara, I'll call you. Let us know what you want us to do, OK?'

‘Thanks, Charlie, but I think it's up to me now.'

He looked about to argue, then nodded sharply. ‘We've got mock exams all week,' he said. ‘I guess I should concentrate for a bit.'

‘You should. Don't worry. I'm fine and I'll let you know if we find out anything more.'

‘Well, goodbye then,' Becky said, just about including Jennifer in her farewell, though it was clear she still wasn't sure that this other girl was not a rival for Rob's affection after all.

Patrick hung back. He had scribbled something on a scrap of paper and he handed it to Jen. ‘Um, my email,' he said. ‘If you need someone to talk to. I mean …' He blushed scarlet and made a big thing of saying goodbye to Clara.

Ernst cast an amused look at Jennifer. ‘Looks like you've made a conquest,' he said.

‘Oh Granddad, don't,' Jennifer told him, but she slipped the scrap of paper in her pocket, oddly gratified.

J
anuary the sixth was bitterly cold. Naomi could taste snow in the air. If it fell, and didn't just bugger off inland as every threat had done so far, it would be the first of the year. Naomi still possessed a childlike love of snow and ice, though these days, not being able to see the surface she walked on made her more wary. She had learned to trust Napoleon in most ways, but his four feet were more secure on any surface than were hers and this was still a major anxiety for her.

Today though, she hoped the snow would hold off for different reasons. She had persuaded Harry to drive her to Pinsent, to meet a contact from her police days. In her bag she had a picture of Adam Hensel, clipped from the local paper and then photocopied and enlarged. Harry reckoned it was still a clear likeness and, without pestering Alec for prints the investigation might have had access to, it was the best she could manage.

She hadn't yet told Alec of her plans and she hadn't yet told Harry that her informant was a prostitute. Harry could, on occasion, shock easily. Much more to the point, he also hated driving in snow, hence her worry about the threatened weather.

‘It's looking a bit murky,' he told her halfway through their journey.

‘We won't be long, I promise. We'll be back before dark and the forecast says it should hold off until then.'

‘Tell that to those clouds. They're full of it. Must weigh a ton.'

‘How's Patrick?' she asked to take his mind off things.

‘Oh, all right, I suppose. Been spending a lot of time on that chat thing these past few days. He's not looking forward to Monday.'

‘Oh, are they back at college then?'

‘Yes, so I expect he'll be reinstating his afternoon visits. You sure you don't mind? You've been very good about it.'

‘I don't mind. He's welcome and he's got a key if I'm not there.'

‘I know. I think that's very decent of you. He's no right to expect that much. Why are we going to Pinsent, anyway?'

‘You could say I'm following a lead.'

‘Oh, something to do with the Hensel thing?'

‘Maybe. I can't be sure. I'm just chasing rumours.'

‘And Alec doesn't know.'

She sensed he was rather glad to have been taken into her confidence when Alec had not. ‘Alec doesn't know. It may be nothing after all.'

‘Hmm. Right. Oh damn and blast.'

‘What?'

‘Snow,' Harry told her disgustedly. ‘The forecast got it wrong again. I could do better with bloody seaweed.'

It was snowing more heavily by the time they reached Pinsent nine miles up the coast. This time of year there were spaces on the promenade and Harry parked, posting enough coins into the meter for a couple of hours. He helped Naomi out of the car and she was glad not to have brought the dog along. She shivered, pulling her coat and scarf more tightly and wishing she had thought to bring a hat.

‘How far is it?'

‘Along the promenade, to the right. It's about a four, five minute walk. A place called the Italian Club.'

‘Sounds posh.'

‘Delusions of … well of anything really. It's a little café, caters for the tourists that don't want chips. The last time I was there …' The last time she was there she had been able to see. ‘Last time I was there it had those gingham curtains that come just halfway up the window.'

‘And the woman we've come to see?'

‘Um, last time I saw her she had a lot of dyed blonde hair. All piled up like a sixties beehive. I've never seen her wear it any other way. In fact, I think it's been like that since it was actually in fashion. I doubt she's changed.'

‘Sounds charming,' Harry mused. ‘You know, you're going to catch your death, no hat.'

‘I forgot. We must be nearly there. Can you see it?'

‘Yes, actually, it's got a board outside. Is the food any good, I'm starving.'

‘It's not bad. Least I can do is buy you lunch.'