Doug looked at his watch. “Damn, I just missed a lecture.”
He paused and smiled at her. “It was worth it though!”
“I should bloody well hope so!” she replied in mock indignation.
“I do have to be at the computing lab this afternoon though. Are you okay with that toast, or would you like to get some lunch with me in one of the restaurants on campus?”
“Let’s go to the restaurant, this tastes a bit stale.”
“That's probably because it is. Sorry. Chuck it in the bin on the way out.” He stepped over to the computer and saw that windows explorer was minimised. “Did you manage to check your email okay?”
“Yes thanks, you can shut it all down now.”
“Food on 3”, the largest of the campus restaurants, was almost full. “They must have something good on today,” said Doug, “Let's go here.”
He enjoyed the feeling as he watched his fellow students jealously eyeing-up Cindy. The dark glasses still covered the bruising, but she had removed the hoody revealing another tight black top which looked as though it could have been spray-painted onto her naked, bra-less torso. He pulled her closer and kissed her passionately on the mouth.
“Showing off our latest conquest are we?” she asked knowingly.
He turned red. “Sorry - but yes! Walking in here with you is doing wonders for my ego - Hey, I think I'll go for the couscous, how about you?”
“Couscous sounds good,” she said, raising her voice so that everyone within a ten foot radius could hear her. “All that fucking has left me ravenous!”
Half a dozen people turned round, half smiling, half shocked, but mostly in awe. Putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his crotch, she moved her mouth to his ear and whispered “How's the ego now, big boy?”
Doug turned even redder. “Touché!” he whispered back. Come on, let me pay for these and we'll see if we can get a seat.”
“Two would be nice. Unless you want me to sit on your cock again?” she said, her voice crescendoing up to a fortissimo “cock” and once again attracting a host of stares.
“Hey okay! You win, I'm sorry!”
“It's okay, I'm just messing with you. Here, Let me treat you.” She pulled out a thick wad of twenties and gave one to the cashier. For a few minutes, they ate in silence.
“How close were you and Kal?” Cindy finally asked.
“Pretty close,” said Doug with a sigh. “We were taking the exact same courses, so we sat together in most of the lectures and worked together on projects.”
“What, like computing projects?”
“Yeah, we even wrote a paper together.”
“Oh yeah, what on?”
Doug looked at her quizzically. “You know, I don't know the first thing about you! I know you're not a student here, but beyond that, I know absolutely nothing.”
Cindy, leant back in her chair and sighed, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. “Well, let's see. I'm twenty-five years old, graduated from the LSE four years ago and I'm now an accountant. I was born in North London, but now live here in Colchester. I commute into London two or three times a week, and work from home the rest of the time. I was an only child and my parents are both dead. What else do you want to know?”
“No way! So how the fuck did some high-flying accountant end up at Kal's party?”
“Not so high-flying really.”
“That was a pretty thick stack of twenties you pulled out at the counter back there. You're obviously not short of a quid or two.”
“Oh – you noticed that did you?” she said with a smile. “I just collected that this morning from someone who owed me some money. As for the party, I tagged along with an old friend of mine - Tracy, do you know her?”
“Doesn't ring a bell.”
“I think she knew someone who knew Kal. I forget the exact connection though.”
Doug was speechless. He had guessed she was no Asda checkout girl, but he hadn't expected accountant.
“So what was the paper about?” she asked again.
“Sorry?”
“The paper you co-authored with Kal.”
“Oh that! It was to do with fractal patterns. Do you know what they are?”
She nodded. Doug gently shook his head in amazement and went on.
“Well, we discovered a new way of manipulating and evolving the underlying equations, which had the unexpected side-effect of generating these really cool moving images - kind of mesmerising. Anyway, Kal was a lot more excited about it than I ever was. To me it was just a mathematics problem.”
“Sounds cool though, maybe you can show me sometime?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“So how was the paper received?”
“Oh I don't know, I don't think anyone took much notice really. Fractals are a bit passé now I think.”
“Even so, I'd be interested in seeing those images sometime.”
“Now you mention it. Kal texted me on the morning of his death to say he had posted a new file for download.” Doug thought for a moment. “Doesn't that strike you as a bit strange?”
“What?”
“Well...one minute he was excited enough about these damn fractal patterns to want to share something new with me, and then a couple of hours later was depressed enough to hurl himself out of a window. It doesn't make any sense.”
“Does it ever make sense when someone commits suicide?”
“Well... not in a rational way maybe, but you can sort of understand it in the context of severe depression. You know, if someone loses all hope and perceives life as too painful to bear. But Kal wasn't like that. It just seemed to come out of nowhere.”
“Maybe you didn't know him as well as you thought you did.”
Doug looked at her for a moment, feeling saddened. “Maybe.”
“Did you ever download the file?”
“No, I was trying to, but then it bombed. Look, can we change the subject?” He looked at his watch. “Actually, I should be going. Will I see you again or are you going to do another disappearing act?” he said, somewhat unkindly.
“Look I'm sorry about that. I just got kind of freaked. Of course you'll see me again. I'm afraid I'm busy tonight, but tomorrow is good. Perhaps I could come by early evening and we can go out.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
Outside the restaurant she hugged him, kissed him one more time, then turned and left without another word. Doug stared after her, watching the way her tight little hips swayed gently from side to side as she walked. He willed her to turn around and acknowledge the stare, but she continued purposefully in the direction of the North towers car-park. He thought about calling after her, but couldn't think what to say. He almost wanted to shout “I love you!”, but that would be ridiculous, he barely knew her... and yet he'd never wanted anyone so badly.
In the computing lab, he again tried Kal's drop box for the DZ-13 file he'd tried to download the other morning, but the whole folder was now empty. Surely the university wouldn't have started clearing out his stuff so soon. Maybe Kal deleted it before jumping. Could that have been why the download had bombed? But why wipe it?
Doug wandered out to the café to get a coffee. As he opened his wallet, he noticed Bullock's card. Perhaps the police would let him access Kal's PC. But on what grounds? He'd probably need the parents’ consent or something. As he paid for his coffee he decided it was at least worth a try. He pulled out his mobile and dialled the number.
“Inspector Bullock, Essex Police.”
“Hi, err...Inspector, this is Doug Richards from the university.”
“Mr. Richards, yes, what can I do for you?”
“I was just wondering if it might be possible to pull some files off Kal's PC.”
Bullock paused. “What sort of files would they be?
“Oh just some stuff we were working on together. You see, he texted me that morning to download something, but I never got it.”
“You're saying he t
exted you on the morning that he died?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, of course I'm sure. Why?”
“Could the text have been sent the night before, but you only noticed it in the morning?”
“No, because it woke me up. Surely if you just look at his mobile, you'll be able to confirm all this.”
Bullock was silent for a few seconds. “We could if we had it, but we don't know where it is. We know he had one, but it wasn't in his room and it wasn't on his body.”
“That's weird.”
“What time did he text you?”
“Err...about elevenish I think, hang on, let me find it, I think it's still there.”
Doug scrolled through his texts. “Yeah, here it is. I received it at 11:30.”
“And what did the text say exactly?”
“It says Check it out! DZ13 in drop.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means he uploaded a file called DZ13 to a communal server and wanted me to take a look at it. I tried to download it, but I think he must have deleted it shortly after sending the text because the download stopped before I got it all, and now it's not there.”
“Was there anything about that text which struck you as strange, or was that typical of the texts he would send you?”
Doug thought for a moment. “No, it's fairly typical really.”
“So let me get this right. Mr. Gupta sent you a text at 11:30, inviting you to download a file. Between then and 1pm, he deleted the file, lost his phone somewhere, and jumped out of the window.”
Doug pondered this for a few seconds. “I suppose so... unless someone took the phone before you arrived – it was an iPhone.”
“Very good, Mr. Richards! Ever considered a career in the Police?”
Doug laughed nervously.
“We'll contact the onlookers again and ask if anyone saw a phone. I trust you don't remember seeing one yourself?”
Doug thought hard. “No, sorry. I'm afraid I was a bit sick and had to turn away for a while. Besides, we weren't the first ones there.”
“We, Mr Richards? I thought you said you were on your own that morning.”
Doug was about to mention Cindy, but something told him he shouldn't. “No, I mean people were coming from all over and moving in the direction of the noise. I ended up walking alongside this girl who'd arrived from somewhere else, but she disappeared shortly after we got there and I haven't seen her since.” Doug waited to hear if Bullock would buy it and at the same time wondered why on earth he'd lied. He could hear the sound of a keyboard tapping in the background, but Bullock was silent. He pictured that hairy face staring questioningly into his eyes. Eventually the inspector spoke. “Okay, Mr. Richards. You've been very helpful. If you remember anything else then let me know.”
“Wait a minute!” What about Kal's PC? Can I get my file or not?”
“Ah, I'm afraid that won't be possible...”
“I just want to see if that file is there so that I can continue the work we were doing. I can prove to you that we were working on this together. We jointly wrote a paper ...”
“No, you don't understand, Mr. Richards. It's not a question of permission. The hard drive was wiped clean. A low level format according to our technicians.”
“No way! What about his external back up drive? It would have been in his room, a box about...”
“That too. Wiped clean. For a man about to commit suicide, his behaviour was...let's say, atypical.”
“You can say that again!” murmured Doug racking his brain for some logical explanation and failing.
“Can you think of any reason why Mr. Gupta would want to erase the information on his hard drive, Mr. Richards? Were you aware, for example, of any compromising photographs, or other material which might have caused upset to his loved ones?”
“What, like porn you mean? There might have been the odd naked woman, but nothing you wouldn't find pinned to the wall of your local garage mechanic. Certainly nothing sick. He wasn't like that.”
“Okay. Well if that'll be all Mr. Richards, I need to be getting back to work.”
“Yes, me too I suppose. Thanks anyway.”
Doug returned to the computing lab, but found he could no longer concentrate. No matter how hard he tried to apply his mind to the computing assignment, it kept returning to the increasingly baffling circumstances of Kal's suicide. After a few hours of very slow progress he decided to give up. He felt like getting drunk.
In the kitchen, Brian was finishing a plate of pasta. “Was that Cindy I heard up here earlier?” he asked.
“Yeah, she turned up again this morning. We had some lunch and then she left. Hey, would you have guessed she was an accountant?”
Brian raised his eyebrows. “Well I could tell she was smarter than the average Essex girl. Is that what she told you then?”
“You don't believe her?”
“Do you?”
Doug thought for a moment. “I don't really know.” Then he smiled. “I'm not sure I really care though.”
Brian cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. “You did, didn't you?”
Doug nodded, his smile widening. “It was amazing. I can't get her out of my head.”
“Fantastic body!”
Doug frowned. “Yeah, you bastard.”
Brian heaped the last fork-full of pasta into his mouth and licked his lips with a grin.
“Hey, fancy coming into town tonight? Jock and a couple of the lads are meeting for a few pints and a curry.”
“You know what? That's exactly what I fancy tonight!”
“Cool, we're meeting at The White Hart around eight.”
“Let's go early and get a few jars in before they arrive. They have a happy hour from six until seven, don't they?”
“Jesus. You are desperate aren't you? Okay then. Just give me twenty minutes and we'll go.”
As they waited at the bus stop on Boundary road, the sun was already sinking over the fields to the west, turning the sky blood-red.
“It's going to be a good night, I can feel it,” said Doug.
“Too bad we won't remember any of it by tomorrow morning,” Brian said, with a snigger.
“But that's the beauty of hedonism. We revel in the moment, for tomorrow we could die,” said Doug theatrically. They looked at each other for a moment as they both thought of Kal.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah - Everyone dies, but not everyone lives, right?”
“Exactly! Hey - here's our bus. On time for once.”
The White Hart was crowded as usual and it took a good ten minutes before Doug managed to attract the attention of the barmaid. “Four pints of bitter please love!” he shouted across the din.
“Not expecting the others yet are you?” asked Brian from behind.
“No, just thirsty,” replied Doug. “...and tired of waiting to be served!” he said, raising his voice. The barmaid ignored him and started pulling the pints, her eyes scanning the crowd for the next customer on her seemingly arbitrary priority list. A forest of arms desperately started waiving tenners while she skilfully avoided eye contact and continued serving.
“Sorry love, must be hell when it's crowded like this,” said Doug, suddenly feeling sympathetic. A fleeting smile flashed across the barmaid's disgruntled and somewhat chubby features, but did little for her general appeal.
“At least it makes the time pass quicker,” she said flatly. “That'll be five twenty.”
“So that's why you were so keen to get the first round in,” said Brian. “Happy hour prices! If you think that by getting two rounds at once, you can avoid paying full whack later though, well...”
“Ah, stop whining you big wuss. There'll be plenty of time for you to get 'em in before all this happiness runs out.”
Brian looked at the barmaid and then back at Doug. “I think it may already be too late for some,” he said, making Doug sti
fle a laugh as he thanked her, and passed over two of the pints.
They picked their way precariously through the crowd and out to the small terrace at the side where Doug immediately started to roll himself a cigarette. Brian looked on with amused disdain. “And you wonder why I kick your arse in the gym,” he said.
“In your dreams, loser!” said Doug punching Brian hard on the upper arm.
“Ouch! You bitch!” cried Brian in a camp voice.
“Yeah, whatever!” sighed Doug as he lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. It was his first in several hours and he savoured the brief buzz it delivered.
“Oh, that reminds me,” said Brian. “Kal's funeral is set for next Friday, did you hear?”
“No, where is it?”
“Up at his folks in Wolverhampton apparently.”
“Shit, all the way over there. Are you going?”
“Don't know. I suppose we should.”
“Ever been to a Hindu funeral before?”
“No, you?”
“No.”
“You don't think they'll burn him on a funeral pyre do you?
“That's not funny Brian.”
“No, seriously. Didn't you hear about that old dear in the news? They built a big bonfire in the back garden and put her on it.”
“No way!”
“Seriously, they barbecued their granny!”
“You're sick!”
“I'm just telling you what I read.”
“I think you'll find this one will be a crematorium job.”
“Hope so.”
“Is anyone with a car going up there?”
“Not sure! Maybe Susan.”
“Susan? Not that girl from the party!”
“Yeah, that's right, the nurse you were trying to chat up while I was doing Cindy!”
Brian quickly stepped back in anticipation of another punch, but Doug just glared at him.
“Sorry mate, that was below the belt...if you know what I mean.”
“You can be a real cunt sometimes, do you know that? She was a nurse then, you say?”
“I can't believe you didn't find that out. You were chatting to her for at least twenty minutes.”
“I guess I was more drunk than I thought. I remember she was quite fit though.”
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