Killing a Stranger

by Jane A. Adams

  ‘Part of parental duties,’ Naomi told him. ‘Embarrassing your kids.’

  She heard Patrick laugh.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Charlie said. ‘Anyway, I got dragged back into the quiet room and someone told the band to stop playing for a bit. Patrick was with me but I looked round for Rob and I saw him by the exit door, with Becks. He went out and Becky followed him. I wondered what was going on, but Dad and Uncle Tim were well into it by then and by the time they’d done making their speeches and stuff, Becks was back. That was about half ten and we reckon they must have started up not later than about ten past.’

  ‘You’ve talked about this a lot, obviously.’

  ‘Rob stormed off down the street,’ Becky took up the story from her perspective. ‘I shouted after him to come back or at least wait up for me. He just told me to go back inside. I thought about going home, but it was too early and I knew Mum and Him would want to know what was up and they’re down on Rob anyway, don’t like me seeing him.’

  ‘Him,’ Naomi enquired, noting the emphasis.

  ‘My so called step-father. Like he’s got any right to criticize.’

  Naomi decided to let that can of worms remain unopened for the moment. She asked, ‘So, when did you eventually leave the party?’

  ‘It was about eleven fifteen, eleven thirty, something like that. I decided to walk to Rob’s place, have it out with him, tell him if he didn’t stop fu … messing me around, that was it. Finished. I got to his house a bit after twelve and the police were there and the ambulance.’

  ‘No sign of Rob?’

  She sensed the girl shake her head, then remember that Naomi couldn’t see. ‘No, nothing,’ she said. ‘And when I went back this morning, the police were still in the house, at least, one of them was and the SOCO woman in the back room.’

  ‘What do you think might have happened?’ Patrick’s voice shook slightly. He coughed to cover up.

  Naomi thought about it. ‘Have you spoken to anyone? Parents?’

  Of course they hadn’t, she thought, at least not in any detail.

  ‘My mam wanted to know where I’d been. I didn’t get home ‘til half one and I was supposed to come back in a taxi at half twelve. I told her … sort of.’

  ‘You told her you’d gone to the house?’

  ‘And they told me to say nothing if the police asked. Not to get involved. He said it was none of my business, but Rob’s my boyfriend, so of course it is.’

  ‘If the police do ask you anything,’ Naomi cautioned, ‘you’ve got to tell them all you can remember. If you don’t, you could end up in deeper trouble than any your parents can hand out.’

  She left that to sink in while she made more coffee. Patrick wandered into the kitchen behind her and half closed the door. ‘Nomi, it’s bad, isn’t it?’

  ‘It doesn’t sound good. There’s been nothing on the news?’

  ‘No, we listened on the local radio.’

  ‘So, it’s unlikely to have been a fire, car accident, anything like that. Patrick, did you know Rob well, I’ve heard you talk about him, but …’

  ‘Pretty well. We’d only really been friends this year.’

  ‘Could he have got into a fight?’

  He was close enough in the tiny kitchen for her to feel him shrug. ‘Maybe, he has a bit of a temper, he gets frustrated and impatient with stuff, but it’s all over in a flash. He never goes looking for trouble. Naomi, we’ve texted everyone we know, no one’s seen him since last night.’

  Texted, she thought, not phoned or spoken to. It was an interesting generational shift.

  ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Give me the tray and then you can bring the biscuit tin.’

  ‘Have you thought to call the hospitals?’ Naomi asked as they settled down again.

  ‘Hospitals? You think Rob might be hurt?’ They’d all thought of this, Naomi guessed, but Becky sounded horrified at it being spoken aloud.

  ‘I’m thinking,’ Naomi said calmly, ‘that if Rob’s mum was taken to hospital, he might be there with her.’

  ‘How would he know?’

  ‘If he turned up at home, the police would have told him. It sounds as though there’s been an officer there overnight. Clara might have been hurt, maybe, worst case scenario, there was a break-in and she interrupted them. That would explain the SOCO.’

  ‘Right,’ Patrick said. She could feel the relief. Focused so much on their friend, they hadn’t thought that he might be the secondary character in the drama.

  ‘I mean, that would still be terrible,’ Patrick added. ‘But … Naomi, can you call them?’

  ‘Get me the phone book and read out the numbers,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what we can find out.

  They struck lucky on the second call. Mrs Clara Beresford was an in-patient, brought in late last night, but they could release no further details. Was Naomi Blake a relative?

  Naomi considered lying, but she had already guessed there might be an officer on watch in the hospital and they would like as not recognize her name.

  ‘Is her son with her?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘No,’ she was told. There had been no sign of her son.

  Naomi replaced the receiver, aware of the expectant hush. ‘Clara was admitted last night,’ she said. ‘But I’m sorry, there’s no sign of Rob.’

  The disappointment was palpable and she felt bad about having let them down after building their hopes.

  ‘You said he’s seemed worried about something for the past few weeks. Any idea what?’

  ‘No,’ Becky replied so quickly Naomi knew they’d already covered that ground over and over. ‘I kept on at him to tell me, we all did.’

  ‘He let something slip,’ Charlie added slowly and Naomi knew she was now being trusted with information the other adults in their lives wouldn’t be getting. ‘He said he was looking for his dad and he didn’t want his mum finding out in case she got upset. He said he’d found a letter or something.’

  ‘His dad,’ Naomi prompted. She could feel the collective closing of ranks and knew she’d get little more from them until they’d had a chance to talk it through.

  ‘His mum brought him up on her own,’ Becky told her. ‘She’s nice,’ she added unexpectedly. ‘She always made me feel at home when I went round.’

  Not like my parents, Naomi heard the implication. She asked. ‘What did your mother have against Rob? Something specific, or just the fact that he was your boyfriend?’

  She felt the renewed tightening of their small but serried ranks, then Becky sighed and the trio relaxed. ‘She found out I was on the pill,’ she said wearily.

  ‘Sounds sensible enough,’ Naomi commented. But then, she considered, she wasn’t a parent. Would that have made a difference to her attitude? Actually, she didn’t think so.

  Becky laughed harshly ‘Listen to Mum and Him you wouldn’t think so,’ she said.

  Alec arrived about an hour after Patrick and his friends had left. Naomi told him about their visit.

  ‘You know something, don’t you?’ She’d been aware of the tension when she mentioned Rob Beresford’s name.

  Alec didn’t reply straight away, he leaned forward to fondle Napoleon’s ears, the big black dog wriggling with pleasure at his ministrations. ‘Do you think they told you everything?’

  ‘I doubt it. Patrick knows me, but the others don’t. They’re scared, Alec, they know something serious must have happened and they’re thinking all sorts of stuff. I don’t imagine the truth can be anything like as bad as anything they’ve already imagined.’

  Alec said nothing.

  ‘Can it?’ Naomi demanded.

  He sighed, reached out for her hand and pulled her down on to the blue sofa. ‘Rob Beresford came home last night, covered in blood,’ he said.

  ‘Rob’s hurt? Becky was sure the ambulance only took the mother away.’

  ‘It did,’ Alec told her. ‘Clara Beresford was taken to hospital suffering from shock. We’ve managed to talk to her this morning. Rob arr
ived home just before midnight. As I say, he was covered in blood, but it wasn’t his. She hugged him and it got on her clothes. It was also on the floor, on the kitchen chair …’ he paused. And added unnecessarily, ‘There was a lot of blood, Naomi.’

  ‘Do we know whose?’ We. She still included herself in the equation even after nearly four years being off the force since an accident took her sight. She didn’t correct herself though, knowing Alec would understand.

  ‘Rob … claimed he had killed a man.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘According to Clara he was distressed and scared. She got him into the kitchen and he insisted she called the police. He kept telling her that he’d killed someone and … a body was found at three o’clock this morning. According to preliminary reports, the blood is a match. We’re waiting on DNA confirmation, of course, but there seems little doubt.’

  ‘So you’ve arrested Rob?’ How the hell was she going to tell Patrick?

  ‘No, no, we don’t know where he is either. His mother went into the hall to call us and he ran out the back. She tried to follow but he was gone by the time she reached the gate. The paramedics found her there in a state of collapse. At first, seeing the blood on her clothes, they thought she’d been attacked, but she’s not hurt, just …’

  ‘Horrified,’ Naomi finished. ‘She must be horrified. Did Rob have any sort of record?’

  ‘Nothing and he’s doing fine at school, straight A student, expected to take the Oxbridge entrance exam. His head teacher is almost as shocked as his mother, I think.’

  ‘God, Patrick will be … Do you know who the dead man is? What’s the motive, do you know that yet?’

  ‘The man is called Adam Hensel, he lives in Pinsent, so we don’t know what he was doing here.’ Pinsent was a half dozen miles up the coast. ‘He was stabbed, single wound, but the knife had been twisted, as though the assailant tried to get it out. He bled out fast. The assailant, and for the moment Rob is our most likely suspect, must have got in close because there were no obvious defence wounds. Of course, we’re waiting on the post mortem for confirmation of that. The knife was found close by; it was just a folding pocket knife, three-inch blade, nothing spectacular, but it did the job.’

  ‘Was it Rob’s?’

  Alec shook his head. Naomi, leaning close, felt the slight movement. ‘Clara Beresford says he owned a pen knife, but we found it in his bedroom. It’s possible the weapon belonged to the victim, there were initials engraved on a little brass plaque on the handle. E.H. It should make it easier to identify.’

  ‘E, not A?’

  ‘No, but the knife wasn’t new, it could have been owned by another Hensel. We don’t know yet.’

  ‘So, at least he didn’t go equipped.’ That was of fractional comfort. ‘Can I tell Patrick any of this?’

  ‘Not yet, no. We need to find Rob.’

  ‘They claim he left the party around ten and they haven’t seen him since. I see no reason not to believe that.’

  ‘No, knowing Patrick, neither do I, though, obviously, I don’t know his friends. What was your impression?’

  ‘That they told me the truth about last night. That’s not to say they told me everything. They were dancing around the fact that Rob hadn’t been himself for the past few weeks.’

  ‘And? They give any reason?’

  ‘Nothing very specific. They seemed to think that Rob had been looking for his father. Apparently, Clara Beresford is a single parent and Dad was not in evidence at all.’

  ‘But nothing more specific?’

  ‘Um, something about him finding a letter that might have given him a clue, but no, nothing beyond that. Alec, I’d hate them to feel I was breaking confidences. Apart from anything else, it might stop them from coming back to me and I’ve the feeling they’re not going to get much sympathy anywhere else.’

  ‘Harry will understand,’ Alec said, of Patrick’s father.

  ‘Harry will do his best, but after that incident in the summer, Harry’s been having a hard time letting Patrick out of his sight. Something like this will just confirm all his fears.’

  ‘I can understand how he feels,’ Alec told her. That ‘incident’ Naomi referred to had seen them caught up in an armed robbery that had gone wrong. Naomi, Harry and Patrick had found themselves numbered among the hostages in a bank siege. Naomi still had bad dreams in which it was her and not her captor that had taken that final plunge from the roof.

  Harry had been badly affected, feeling, quite rightly, that he had come close to losing his son. Patrick himself had gained a measure of street-cred among his peers, but it had left him scarred. He’d grown up, suddenly and too fast, withdrawn from them all. Naomi had suggested counselling and Harry had reluctantly agreed. Patrick duly spent an hour not talking about it every week while Harry paid for the privilege.

  Now this.

  ‘I’ve asked Clara to make a list of Rob’s friends,’ Alec said. ‘They will be getting a visit, but,’ he promised, ‘I’ll make sure the information about Rob’s father came from somewhere else.’

  Two

  Sunday

  ‘Take your time, Mrs Beresford. I know how difficult this is.’

  ‘Do you? Do you really?’

  Alec forced himself to meet the intense gaze fixed on his own face. Clara Beresford was examining him as though looking for a particular truth; some kind of explanation. Alec couldn’t help her; reasons were something he didn’t have.

  She pulled away, straightened her shoulders to match an already rigid back. ‘I’m ready,’ she told him.

  How, Alec thought, could anyone ever be ready to identify the body of their son?

  She studied the boy’s face for so long that Alec was confused. He had attended so many of these pathetic dramas and usually, they followed a pattern. The relative steeled themselves as Clara had done, then looked at the face of the lost one for the briefest time possible, as though speed made reality less real. Occasionally, they wanted to touch, to be sure, not believing the evidence of their own eyes. Only rarely did they stare with the intensity of Clara Beresford, examine in such detail the lines and contours of the face. She reached out, not touching, but her fingers hovering uncertainly above Rob’s lips.

  Did she think he might still be breathing? Alec didn’t know. Gently, he touched her arm. She flinched, jumped, as though he’d shocked her, her entire body registering his touch.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s all right, Clara, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  ‘All right? How can anything ever be all right?’

  Alec didn’t know. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? There must be things you want to ask me.’

  She nodded, but didn’t move. ‘That’s what I thought that night. Make tea, find biscuits, talk about it.’ She laughed. ‘Pathetic,’ she almost spat the word. ‘So bloody pathetic.’

  She was not, he thought, a woman given to swearing. The mild expletive sounded odd coming from her lips. Who, he wondered, or what, was pathetic? Her wanting to make tea? Alec’s offering it now? Or the body of her son lying in the viewing room.

  ‘Clara.’ He opened the door and this time she moved, following obediently as he left the room and took her back down the corridor to the reception area where he knew they would have the promised refreshment.

  He sat her down on one of the padded chairs, pulled up a plastic one so he could sit opposite. He resisted asking her, again, if she was all right.

  ‘Where exactly did you find him?’

  ‘There’s a bridge that crosses the road at Temple Street, just before you reach the canal basin. We think he must have gone into the water from the bridge. He was caught up in weeds just a few yards further down.’

  ‘Gone in,’ she echoed. ‘Did he jump?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘Did someone push him? How could he have fallen? I know that bridge, it has a railing. How could he have fallen?’

  Hazel eyes, Alec thought. She had hazel eyes
, light brown flecked with an intense green. They bored into him, searching once more for those answers he was unable to give.

  ‘I just want to go home. Can I go home?’

  Alec nodded. SOCO had finished, the officer on watch been returned to regular duty. No one had denied the neighbour’s assumption that their presence had been due to a burglary. He didn’t know what Clara would tell them.

  ‘Your sister …’

  ‘The blood. There was so much blood.’

  ‘I know, Clara. I asked your sister to come here, just in case you needed someone. I hope I did the right thing?’

  She nodded vaguely.

  ‘We thought … we thought it might be better if you go home with her for a few days. She’s packed a bag for you.’

  He saw first resentment and then relief flicker across her face, the eyes harden and then blank, then grow soft as though she thought of something else, something Alec could not share.

  ‘What happened that night,’ she asked finally. ‘Did he kill that man?’

  Alec hesitated. ‘It’s too early to be sure, Clara. You’re certain Rob never mentioned Adam Hensel. There’s nothing you can recall. Nothing at all?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d remember that name,’ she said. ‘It’s not a usual name. Rob … Rob said nothing to me about an Adam Hensel.’ She took a deep breath. ‘When can I have the body?’

  ‘There’ll have to be a post mortem. That has been explained to you?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Will that take long?’ She bit her lip hard to stop herself from crying. ‘I can’t bear to think of him being here, you know?’

  ‘I know. Clara, as soon as I discover anything, I’ll tell you.’

  ‘Find out what happened,’ she demanded with sudden energy. ‘Why would my son kill anyone? Why would he kill someone he didn’t even know? Rob was a good kid, an ordinary kid. My son isn’t a killer. He isn’t …’ She could no longer hold back the tears. They poured out of her, convulsing her. Childlike, she pulled her legs up on to the chair, wrapped herself into a little ball of pain, venting a grief and torment that could no longer find its release in words.