The Ghost of Robert Brown: A Mystery Novel
Page 17
“Tell me more about this…Tim,” he said, avoiding her question. “Where did you get this photo?”
“The yearbook.”
“The yearbook, huh? Why didn’t I look at that?”
“I found it in the library,” Jane said.
“So, what’s special about this one?”
“I think he might know something about Robert’s death.”
Gary Myers raised an eyebrow.
“I have reason to believe he might know something about Robert’s death.”
Gary’s eyes enlarged. “You think he might know something?”
Jane nodded. “He transferred out of school soon after the incident even though it’s hard to be admitted to a new school at that time of the year. Do you remember Mr. McEwan said something about someone coming into the teachers’ dorm at night?”
“You think it was him?”
“No. I don’t think it was him, but he might’ve had something to do with that.”
“Jane, what are you hiding?” Detective Myers asked. “Who do you think came into the teachers’ dorm that night?”
“Gary…”
“You found something, didn’t you? Those missing pages, perhaps…” Jane was still. “You did. Where?”
“I can’t tell you. I’m an employee of the school,” she said.
“But you’ve already told me about Tim.”
“That’s because he’s not a student anymore.”
“What do you want me to do, Jane?”
“Just find out about Tim. I think he goes to university somewhere in England.”
“How helpful,” Gary remarked sarcastically.
“You’re the detective. Find him,” Jane said.
“I’ll look into it. Thanks,” Gary said. “What do you want me to ask him when I see him?”
“Ask him what he saw that night. Tell him you know he was there. Press him. I’m sure he knows something. That’s why he disappeared. Nobody transfers out of school after the murder’s discovered for no reason.”
“What do you think really happened?”
“We’ll know once we hear from him.”
“Any proof?”
“He dropped out of school, his father appointed a new principal—”
“Wait a second—”
“His father is one of the school trustees.”
“He backed the promotion of Mrs. Wolverhampton,” Detective Myers said. “Does that mean she—”
“Don’t jump to conclusions yet,” Jane said.
“Protective of your colleagues, aren’t you?”
“Why else would I be telling you all this?” she asked. “We were colleagues once.”
“Excuse me, we’re going to close in fifteen minutes,” the waitress reminded them, tapping her legs anxiously on the floor.
“I don’t think we can finish this,” Jane said, staring at the three-tiered afternoon tea platter filled with food.
“Excuse me, can I take this away?” she asked the waitress, who quickly rushed to their table and took the platter of treats away.
Detective Myers stood up and made his way to the cash register. Jane followed him.
“Here you go,” the waitress said, placing a packet that smelled of cake on the counter. Gary opened his wallet.
Jane handed her the card. “I’ll pay,” she said. “You went through the trouble of getting me here. And besides, I did all the eating.”
“I should pay. This was supposed to be a date,” Gary said.
“Well, it wasn’t.”
“I got more information from you than I did running around all day, so I’d say it was a good day for me.”
“Ma’am, should I swipe the card?” the waitress asked, clicking her feet on the floor.
“You know what? Let’s go Dutch,” Detective Myers said, placing a bill on the counter.
“Much better,” Jane said. “Go ahead, swipe the card.”
Jane and Gary walked out of the cafe.
“So it was your idea to invite me here?”
He nodded. “I guessed no harm could come of it. I needed to get some help with this case.”
Carrying the package, Jane walked towards the door.
“So…you thought I was charming yesterday, huh?”
“Go to hell, Gary Myers.”
“If I go to hell, who’s going to drive you back?”
“I think I’d better go back on my own. We need to be careful. If people think I know you, they won’t be confiding their secrets in me anymore.”
Gary nodded.
“So, you’re going to pursue Tim?”
“Yes. It seems like a good lead,” Detective Myers said. “Thanks for all the help.”
“Take care,” Jane said.
They walked out of the cafe. The bell on the door rang. They parted ways.
Chapter 8
If like changing clothes, we could change our lives, how easy it would be.
—Robert Brown
Monday, April 22, 2002
Gary Myers gazed at the distant business building of the University of Greenwich. The journey to Greenwich had been a short one considering he had taken the train. His stomach wasn’t grateful to him for that, though. Train breakfast was not the most appetizing thing in the world. The memory of the insipid coffee lingered in his tongue.
Gary Myers stepped onto the university campus, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. It was not working for him, because all the students were staring at the eccentric detective in the long grey coat. Wearing sunglasses in the English weather already made him appear eccentric.
Gary looked ahead at the ivory building that resembled the White House. It was a resplendent sight. Blue skies with wispy white clouds framed the building. A smooth tarmac path lined with white stone led to the front of the building. A grey downward-sloping roof hung over the building. Detective Myers passed the black Victorian lamps placed in white stone stands. Since it was still morning, they weren’t lit, but they added to the ambience of the building.
Gary’s sneakers made a squeaky sound as they sank into the tarmac. Before him, he saw students walking in and out of the building. Two square patches of dark green grass lay on either side of the tarmac path. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the building. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an image of Tim, and he scanned the crowd for any similar faces. He was at the right building. Gary walked further, staring at the faces of over fifty college students who stared back at him. Finally, he spotted a group of three boys near a tree.
In the middle of the group of boys stood a young man with coffee-brown hair that brushed the nape of his neck. He was around five feet eight inches tall and had a stout body. His jaw was squarish and so was his palm, which curved around two books. As he moved closer, Gary noticed that he had brown eyes. His face was on the chubbier side, with freckles scattered all over his cheeks. Tim Toth.
Detective Myers stepped forward. Tim stopped at the base of his shadow, noticing that somebody blocked the sunlight. He looked up and his eyes met Detective Myers’s. His smile vanished. His expression darkened. His friends turned to him.
“Tim Toth?” he asked. Tim was still.
“Yes?”
“Do you know him?” one of his friends whispered.
“I don’t think I do,” Tim said.
“Detective Myers of the Kent Police,” Detective Myers said in his low, raspy voice. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge. “I’d like to speak to you regarding the events of five years ago.”
“What is he talking about?” one of his friends asked. His eyes shifted to Tim’s friends, who had a clueless look plastered on their faces. Tim, on the other hand, knew exactly where Myers was going with his questions. There was an expression of shock on his face.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Robert Brown’s death,” Detective Myers said. “I have reason to believe you were there when it happened.”
Tim’s friend
s stared at him.
“I—”
“I would like to speak in private,” Detective Myers said, turning to the other two boys. Tim appeared to be relieved when he said that.
“There’s a quiet place nearby,” Tim said.
Tim waved to his friends, who continued to stare at them as they walked away. Gary followed Tim across the grass lawn to a fountain that lay straight in front of the building entrance. From there, Tim turned left and led Myers to the park. They walked for five minutes before he spotted an empty bench. Tim walked towards the bench, which lay under a tree. Detective Myers stopped near the bench, his body covered by the tree’s shadow.
Tim sat down. Detective Myers remained standing.
“Who told you?” Tim asked, turning to Detective Myers.
“I cannot name witnesses.”
“What do you want from me?” Tim asked, biting his nails nervously.
“I want to know what you saw that night.”
“There isn’t much I can tell you.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Detective Myers said, tapping his pen against the surface of his notebook. “I found a diary. Robert’s diary. It said some interesting things about you,” Detective Myers said. Tim was still.
“You know about the diary, don’t you?”
“Why are you asking about it now?”
“Someone died at St. Anne’s.”
“A murder?”
Detective Myers nodded.
“Who?”
“Mr. Greene. He was a maths teacher.”
“He wasn’t there when I was a student.”
“I know,” Detective Myers said. “The strange thing is, he died in exactly the same way Robert did. Drowned in the lake before Easter.”
Tim’s eyes were wide open. His hands skimmed his hair.
“So, I was wondering if you could help me out on this one. Everything you say will be confidential. You might be asked to come testify in court if there is a need.”
Tim looked around blankly.
“Let’s begin with the basics. Your name is Timothy Toth, age twenty-one, major business and law, right?”
Tim nodded.
“Were you present at the lake on the night Robert died?”
Tim swallowed. A moment later, he nodded.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions about what you saw, as I said earlier.”
He looked around nervously and lowered his voice. “Go ahead.”
Detective Myers sat down next to Tim.
“What were you doing at the lake that night?”
A dark expression entered Tim’s eyes as he looked down at the grass. His breathing sped up. He rubbed his fingers on his thighs to calm the goose bumps that broke out as he remembered that day from five years ago. “I…I just happened to be there,” he said. “It was the first day of the Easter break. Most of St. Anne’s had gone home. It was a good time to break rules…”
On noticing Detective Myers’s blank expression, he went on.
“Students aren’t allowed to go out after ten at night. But the rules don’t apply during holidays. That’s why I went out at night. Just for the thrill of it.”
“And you ended up at the lake.”
“I did.”
“What time was this?”
“I don’t know. I’d think it takes fifteen minutes from the boys’ dorm to the lake if you’re strolling.”
“And if you’re running?”
“Seven, maybe five,” Tim guessed.
“Keep going.”
“I wanted to go to the lake because I’d heard the stories about it—”
“Stories?”
“There are all kinds of stories about the lake,” Tim said. “It’s believed to be haunted by the wife of the duke who lived here many decades ago.”
“I’ve never heard that one.”
“That’s one of the rumors. People also say if you confess your love at the lake, it’ll last forever. Now, they must think it’s haunted by Robert’s ghost.”
“I’ve heard that one,” Detective Myers said. “Go on.”
“It was a little foggy that night, so I couldn’t see everything clearly, but I’m sure I saw somebody.”
“Robert Brown?” Myers put in.
“Yes. I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but the silhouette looked like his.” Tim gulped. “I don’t know who the other person was, but there was somebody else.”
“Are you sure about that?” Detective Myers asked in a neutral tone.
“I am. I’m sure there was somebody else. He wore a black coat from what I could see.”
“He?”
“It might’ve been a she,” Tim said. “It was dark and foggy, so I can’t tell. But I was close enough to see there was somebody else.”
“You’re not sure if the person you saw was a man or woman?”
Tim nodded.
“How tall was this person?”
“Ummm…I’d say five-six to five-eight? That’s a wild guess.”
Detective Myers wrote that down.
“Did you hear what they said?”
“No.”
“Was the conversation serious?” Myers asked.
“It seemed to be. Robert was quivering. I saw his hands shaking.”
“Shaking, huh?” Detective Myers said in a low voice, writing it down.
“Go on.”
“They were at the edge of the dock. They’d walked there as the conversation progressed. Then I saw a splash. The other person pushed Robert into the lake as soon as he was done talking,” Tim said. “I was shocked. The sudden noise crashed like thunder. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get a clearer picture. The other person stood frozen in place, at the end of the dock, as Robert cried out for help. It wasn’t very loud because his voice was muffled by the water. Then I heard footsteps. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be out there at night, so I started walking back. Robert’s screams faded.”
“So you’re saying this other person pushed Robert into the lake?”
“That’s what I saw,” Tim said, breathless. He closed his eyes. “As soon as Robert stopped talking, the stranger stiffened. He or she paused for a moment before pushing Robert into the lake.”
“Do you think this person intended to push Robert into the lake?” Detective Myers asked.
“It seemed like an impulsive thing…like a prank or a ‘you can’t be serious’ thing,” Tim hesitated. “From the looks of it, Robert said something shocking. I don’t know what he said. I couldn’t hear.”
“So, it wasn’t premeditated?”
“No. It didn’t appear to be.”
“What happened after that?”
“That person saw me. I wish I could’ve seen his face, but I’m sure he looked in my direction. Then he or she began to run.”
“How fast?”
“How fast? Regular speed, I guess. Maybe a little faster.”
“They were scared when they saw you?”
Tim nodded.
“Did you jump in and try to save Robert?”
Tim looked at him blankly. “No. I didn’t know he would drown. If I had known…” His voice broke. “At the moment, I felt a strange sort of satisfaction knowing Robert was in ice-cold water. If I had known he couldn’t swim, I’d have done something. I’m very sorry. I regret what I did.”
“There’s no legal duty in English law to save drowning people,” Detective Myers said. “So, what did you do after the stranger fled?”
“I rushed back to the dorm. I thought that maybe one one the teachers had seen me sneak out of the dorm or something. I was afraid because students weren’t supposed to be out after ten. I couldn’t sleep that night. But, I didn’t know that Robert had drowned.”
“When did you realize that Robert was dead?”
“There was no way I’d have known. The dining hall is closed during the Easter break. I went home the next day. I took the earliest train. I wanted to get away from the person I saw. I only realized three weeks later that Rober
t had drowned. I was shocked and I felt so guilty.”
“Do you think the person who pushed Robert knew he couldn’t swim?”
“I don’t know….but that’s not very likely,” Tim said. “I didn’t know that Robert couldn’t swim until he died. It wasn’t a common thing. We did physical education together and I still didn’t know. Swimming isn’t a common sport here in Tenterden. St. Anne’s doesn’t have a swimming pool. The weather’s always too cold to swim.”
“So you say nobody knew?” Detective Myers scratched his head. “That’s why you think his death wasn’t deliberate?”
Tim nodded.
“I see.”
“What about his parents? Weren’t they worried when he didn’t turn up for Easter?” Detective Myers asked.
“I don’t know…maybe he was supposed to go home for the break. His mother might have called the school or not. I don’t know if he was supposed to go home that year. It makes sense if he wasn’t because otherwise the school staff would’ve searched for him.”
A long pause followed.
“I want to ask you about the diary,” Detective Myers said.
“What diary?” Tim asked, his expression blank.
“Robert’s diary?” Detective Brown put in.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim confessed. And, it truly looked like he had none.
“Fine, let me put this another way. Why did you transfer our of St. Anne’s before the year was through? And, why did the principal let you?”
“I was afraid the detective would suspect me. If he found out I was there on that night, he’d think I had something to do with Robert’s death.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because I bullied him. Everybody knew how much I disliked him. When the detective came around and asked questions, the students all mentioned my name. They thought Robert was depressed because of me. Suicide was the only logical conclusion.” Tim hung his head. “I was a terrible person back then.”
“Why didn’t you tell the detective what you saw?”
“I couldn’t. If I did, the person who pushed Robert might know. Those were terrible days. Everybody at St. Anne’s hated me.”
“So, they thought you were responsible for his death somehow?’
Tim nodded.
“Why did you bully Robert? Was there a reason?”
“There never is. He was very different from the rest of us. He didn’t talk much and he didn’t make friends. He just seemed like an easy target. His family background wasn’t as…umm…affluent. He was the first student to attend St. Anne’s on a scholarship. You see, the scholarship program began that year. The teachers loved him. He was really smart. He stood out without trying. I guess I hated him for that.”