Killing a Stranger (26 page)

Did you know they were meeting that night?

No. of course not.

Patrick, getting used to Jennifer's interpretation of fact, rephrased.
Did you know they were planning a meeting anytime?

Rob might have hinted at it. He wanted to get things out in the open.

And if he had done, got things out in the open, then everyone would know you were leading them on and the father was someone else.

And what's that supposed to mean? That I wanted Rob to kill Adam? That I wanted Adam to kill Rob? Your mad you are. Nuts. A freak
.
Emoticons bounced across the screen, crying, shouting, mouthing at him as though she'd run out of words.

He had to think more, sort this out. Abruptly, he logged off and sat back in the chair staring at the screen.

‘Trouble?' Naomi asked.

‘No. Why?'

‘Because you don't type that fast unless you're annoyed about something and don't care about the spelling.'

He scowled. ‘Who says?'

‘I do. Hey, look, if it's none of my business, tell me so.'

Silence.

‘OK, I consider myself told.'

Patrick sighed. He didn't want to argue with Naomi or upset her but … he didn't think he could use the right words to explain either.

‘Look,' he said. ‘I'm sorry. Truth is I can't really tell you what it is because … right now, I don't really know.'

Alec's team had more enthusiasm that experience going for them, but he was happy to accept eager and try and instill a little finesse.

‘These people have all given statements before,' he said. ‘Then there's a list of those who saw nothing and a third list of people who were out when we did the house to house before and we haven't spoken to.'

The previous enquiry had been carried out in daytime and a brief follow up one evening, but Alec figured it would have been very easy to have missed the workers.

‘Remember, we're jogging memories, not feeding people lines. And please people, unless it's very obvious someone does have something new, please stay on the doorstep. Once inside you'll be faced with every grievance from the past five years, from the neighbour parking their car in the wrong place to missing cats, and while I'm all for community policing, I've only borrowed you for a couple of hours. We hit nine o'clock and your line managers'll be screaming at me to give you back.'

His comments were greeted with laughter and knowing looks. Alec assigned tasks. The community liaison officers were given the ‘didn't sees and the no shows'. Alec and the special constable, a long server by the name of Raymond Parks, split the rest, those who had actually made statements after some fashion or another.

Of these there were a scant half dozen, but Alec knew from experience that they were unlikely to get through more than that in the time allotted, especially if anything new should happen to arise. It was a job requiring time, experience and patience and right now, they were short on two out of three of the equation.

‘Remember, maintain radio contact. Anything at all comes up, or anything you're not sure about, give me a shout and I'll be there.'

Nods all round. He was aware that they thought this was a wild goose chase, but it was something new and Alec's reputation meant that their being selected, even for the chasing of wild geese, made it something of an occasion.

Alec, frankly, was having second thoughts about the entire thing. It was raining, that cold stuff that can't quite make up its mind to be snow but which worked itself into every gap in clothing and found every millimetre of bare skin. He was tired, hungry and becoming convinced that his boss was right. It was sheer bloody mindedness that kept him tugging at this. No logic, no reason, no excuse at all.

He hoped, in a way, that they would reach the witching hour of nine and nothing new would have been discovered, no witness come forward to disturb the desert of information with their breath of doubt. Then he could go home, tell everyone concerned that he'd done his best and move on to the next event the job threw at him.

For the first hour it seemed this would be so. No one remembered more than they had done in the days immediately following the murder and when he checked in with the liaison officers, only two had been struck off the list of no shows.

‘OK,' Alec told them. ‘Just carry on.'

He worked down the main road from the T junction at the end, back to the corner where Adam had died, calling just at those houses where the occupant had something to tell. Ray Parks came down to meet him from the other side. The woman three doors down from the murder site had the most to give, but it was old news.

‘I saw a figure,' she told him as she'd told the officers before. ‘Someone running back down the hill towards the junction. It was the shouting that made me look out. That poor man, I suppose and someone else.'

‘You didn't hear what was said?'

‘No, I'm sorry, no. We had the television on you see. It was only when the shouts got very loud we heard anything and then it was more like a scream, I suppose and someone, I swear someone shouting “No”. Just no. But very loud.'

‘A scream.' That was new. The copy of her statement he carried just said shouting. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Well, yes. I thought at first it was the fox. We have foxes round here, they make a good living out of raiding people's bins. Oh, the mess they leave. But they are pretty things, you know. Anyway,' she waved a hand at Alec. ‘You don't want to know about the foxes. But I thought it was a fox at first, you know the way they cry out to one another, high pitched and really rather eerie. Then we heard the shout …'

Alec thanked her. ‘And the figure …'

‘No more than a dark shape running in the road. If he'd been on the path I might have made out more, but the figure just took off, down the middle of the road. Down towards town.' She hesitated. ‘Can you tell me if you've caught him? The man who did this? We've all been so worried, you know. Some of the neighbours said it was a boy who killed himself after, but you know how rumours go.'

Alec found himself telling her nothing, just platitudes about keeping an open mind, but that the killer had been brought to justice and she needn't worry any more. He realized he had contradicted himself, but she seemed satisfied and Alec went on his way before she could ask him anything else.

Then he got a shout on the radio. One of the no shows from before reported seeing someone running from the scene. They'd phoned in and reported it, but heard no more.

‘Probably the same as number twenty-three,' Alec said, but he went along to the address he'd been given. It was further up the hill and past where Adam Hensel died.

That, Alec thought, didn't seem right.

The man standing on the doorstep introduced himself as Marvin Kayne. He worked odd hours, so it had been hard to catch him in.

‘I phoned the police the very next day,' he said. ‘I told them, I saw someone running away.'

‘Can you tell me more?' Alec asked. ‘What they looked like, which way they ran. Any idea of age?'

Marvin nodded. ‘Young, I'd say, they dashed across between the parked cars over there and I think they had long hair. Dark coat.'

‘Over there?' Alec pointed to where Marvin indicated.

‘Yes, between the cars. There's always cars parked that side of the road. Then up the path that way.'

‘You're sure?'

‘Absolutely certain. I heard shouting and I looked out through my bedroom window to see what it was about. I can't see the corner from there, but then I saw this figure. It'd been standing over there, in the shadows so I didn't see it till it moved. Then it took off up the hill.'

Two figures, Alec thought. It had been worth the effort tonight. One person, that must have been Rob, run down the hill towards the town. The other, break out of the shadows and take off the other way.

A
lec, vindicated and pleased with himself and his ad hoc team, was presenting his new piece of information to his boss the following morning when he was told he had a visitor.

‘He says his name's Patrick Jones and he seems very upset about something.'

‘Wheel him in,' Lyndon said. ‘Go on, I've done with you. You've proved your point so far as it goes.'

Alec let that slide. What the hell was Patrick doing here?

He picked the boy up from the front desk and signed him in, took him to find a quiet corner of the canteen.

‘I've bunked off school,' Patrick said.

‘I'd worked that one out.'

‘My dad'll kill me.'

‘Ground you, maybe,' Alec said. ‘I don't think Harry will see this as a capital offence.'

Patrick didn't laugh. Patrick always laughed at his jokes, however bad. That was understood. This was a bad sign. ‘What is it then?'

‘Jennifer. I think she made it happen. I don't mean she meant to, but she made Adam think Rob was the dad and Rob thought the same about Adam and … it sounds stupid now. I've been worrying about it all night and now it sounds stupid. Alec, I think she knew they were meeting that night. I think she wanted them to.'

Slowly, hesitantly, Alec coaxed the story from him. The things he had asked her and what she had said. It was clear from his expression that he felt he was betraying a confidence, if not a friend, but the older, more established care for Rob had won out over this newer more fragile one. Guiltily, he pulled some folded paper from his pocket and gave it to Alec.

‘My computer's set to record the chat sessions,' he said. ‘I did it because sometimes we talk about how to do homework and stuff and you know what I'm like about remembering.'

‘Sure. It's OK, Patrick. This is the right thing to do.' Alec skimmed the pages, ignoring the bad spelling and rather dodgy grammar. It told him a lot, much he already knew or guessed, but from a very different point of view.

‘Last night's one is missing,' Patrick said. ‘I was on Naomi's machine. I couldn't wait until I got home. I had to ask her.'

Alec nodded. ‘Look,' he said, ‘I'll drive you back to school, clear it with your head teacher and then I'll explain to your dad.'

‘Thanks.' He clearly didn't want to go, but Alec thought it was the best place for him right now. Lessons would at least occupy his mind.

Alec was known at the college and Eileen Mather's secretary greeted him with surprise. Then Patrick with some alarm. ‘Is everything all right?'

‘It will be,' Alec said. ‘But if Eileen's free, I'd like a word.'

‘Of course, but I'm sorry, Alec, you'll have to hang on for a few minutes. She's got a student and his parents in there.' She leaned forward confidentially. ‘Another suspension. Third this month. She is not a happy lady.'

They waited in the outer office. After ten minutes or so a boy came out. His parents flanking him like an armed guard. Alec could almost see the shackles.

‘Now that,' he said, ‘looks more like a capital offence.'

Patrick shrugged. ‘He's a w … well you know. Always in trouble. He's been warned but he keeps bringing a knife into school. Miss Mathers said any student doing that will get kicked out, but they never do. Just suspended.'

Alec was interested. He'd always thought Eileen Mathers ran a tight ship.

‘How come?'

Patrick shrugged. ‘Dad says it's to do with funding. The sixth form keeps getting smaller and everyone keeps saying we'll lose it altogether and merge with somewhere or other. Dad reckons if she keeps them on until, I don't know, November or something, she gets to keep the funding for the whole year.'

‘And how does Harry get to know so much?'

Patrick shrugged. ‘Mum was a school governor for a bit.' He grinned suddenly transforming his rather hangdog look. ‘She enjoyed it.'

Alec laughed. ‘I never met your mum,' he said. ‘Patrick, is there much of this going on? The knives, I mean.'

He shook his head. ‘No, not really. Some kids see it as cool, you know, kind of macho. Stupid. I nearly got done once, though,' he confided. ‘You know the little knife I use for putting a point on my pencils? I forgot it was in my coat pocket. I told my tutor, soon as I got in and she locked it up for me, but if I'd been found carrying it …'

‘Any of your friends carry? I'm not asking you to name names. Just curious.'

Patrick shrugged. ‘No, not in school. It's handy to have a pocket knife though. Dad has one on his key ring.'

‘I know. Though I don't think his Swiss army rip-off would have much street-cred, do you?'

Patrick laughed a little more easily this time. ‘No, not really. Though all it'd take is some rapper to have one in a video and they'd all be after them. Charlie's got a genuine one, though I've only ever seen him use it to open bottle caps.'

‘That figures.'

‘Rob's mum said he had a pocket knife but we never found it among his stuff.'

Patrick frowned. ‘He lost it ages ago. Rob was always losing stuff, that was just Rob. Then he got another one. An old thing, said he'd found it somewhere, in a shed or something. Charlie thought that was funny. Clara doesn't have a shed.'

Alec's heart skipped a beat. ‘What was it like?' he asked casually.

Patrick shrugged. ‘Sort of old looking. Wood with a blade that had been sharpened so it was shorter than where it fitted into and kind of thin. It used to get stuck in his pocket and the lining would kind of catch on the blade when he took it out. It dragged the blade open. He cut his fingers on it no end of times.' He squinted, trying to remember. ‘It had letters on it, I think.'

‘The head will see you now,' her secretary told them, calling through from the other room and they went through, Patrick looking hangdog and guilty again.