Authors: Tom Bale
B
ack in the garden
, a couple of paramedics were tending to the injured man, who was already hooked up to a drip and had an oxygen mask covering his face. Wendy was being led back towards the house by a stocky, middle-aged policeman.
On the terrace a female officer was in conversation with Livvy, who had a protective arm around Georgia. The sight prompted a twinge of guilt; just for a moment, when the man blundered into the garden, Rob had forgotten his daughter was there.
Evan hurried past the activity on the lawn, but Rob paused to ask, ‘Is he going to be all right?’
One of the paramedics was preparing an injection of some sort; she offered Rob a quick, professional smile. ‘Too early to say. But we’ll do our best.’
This brief exchange had alerted the policeman to their presence. Under scrutiny, Rob realised how hot and dishevelled he must look, which perhaps explained why the officer’s expression seemed to harden slightly.
‘This is Rob,’ Wendy said, ‘and my son, Evan.’
The cop spared Evan no more than a glance before his focus returned to Rob. ‘Mr Turner, I’m PC Clark. My colleague, PC Jardine, is speaking to. . . your daughter, is it?’
Rob nodded. ‘And my son’s girlfriend, Livvy.’
‘And where had you been?’ PC Clark indicated the open gate.
‘Just went to check the common, see if there was any clue as to. . .’ Rob trailed off, aware of how defensive his tone had become.
‘And was there?’
‘Not that I could see.’
‘How long were you gone?’
‘Three or four minutes. I tried to speak to this lad on a bike, but he was too far away, and then I heard the sirens, and Evan came to get me—’
‘Whoa, whoa.’ Clark had his hands up, as if to stop traffic. ‘Let’s rewind a fraction. Your wife tells me you were having a barbecue.’ He looked round, pointedly confirming the presence of the still-smoking grill. ‘So the whole family were here, yes?’
‘Everyone but Josh.’ Wendy saw the man’s confusion and tried to clarify. ‘Evan’s twin brother. He’s not yet back from university.’
‘It was just the five of us.’ Rob must have sounded brusque, because Wendy flashed a warning glance:
Don’t get tetchy
.
A
fter recording
the full details of everyone present, PC Clark asked Rob to describe what had happened. From Wendy’s frown, Rob gathered that she’d already given the policeman an account.
He wants to see if our stories tally.
Rob tried to compose himself. ‘There isn’t much to tell you. We were just out here, enjoying the sunshine, when something banged on the fence.’
As he ran through the sequence of events, he watched the paramedics carefully lift the unconscious man on to a trolley stretcher. PC Jardine accompanied them out past the side of the house, signalling to Clark as she left.
After a nod in response, the policeman said, ‘Is the gentleman known to you at all, sir?’
‘Never seen him before in my life,’ Rob said forcefully, even while a sly voice in his head whispered:
You should have taken a closer look, this could be a warning
—
‘Sure about that?’
Rob, swallowing heavily, said, ‘Positive.’
Clark held his gaze for a long moment, before switching his attention to Wendy. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she said, ‘It’s not easy to be sure – with all the blood on his face, I mean – but I don’t think so.’
The policeman jotted a few notes, then said, ‘In due course my colleagues will need to take full statements. And for the meantime, that end of the garden is out of bounds.’
He moved away, surveying the ground carefully before each step. At an offer of refreshments, he turned and smiled for the first time.
‘Tea with milk and one, please.’
R
ob followed
Wendy into the living room. Georgia was on the sofa between Evan and Livvy but leaning forward, as if uncomfortable with their proximity. Livvy was saying, ‘. . . I’m sure he’ll be fine once they get him to hospital.’
‘Exactly,’ Wendy added. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, darling. Honestly.’
‘But what happened to him?’ Georgia looked from Wendy to Rob. ‘Why did he come here?’
Because of me
.
Rob turned his shudder into a shrug. ‘There wasn’t any particular reason. Maybe he heard the music and knew there’d be people in the garden who could help?’
Georgia considered this explanation, then went back to staring at the floor. With a nod of thanks to Livvy and Evan, Rob joined Wendy in the kitchen. ‘Okay?’ he asked.
She shook her head. Her jaw was tight, a muscle twitching in her cheek. For a moment Rob interpreted it as anger, but then she threw her arms around him and let out a sob.
‘The state he was in, Rob. The
cruelty
of what was done to him. . .’
‘I know.’ He hesitated for a moment before holding her tight. ‘I’ll make tea. You go and sit with the others.’
‘No, I’d rather keep busy.’ She eased herself away from him, tore off a sheet of kitchen roll and blew her nose. ‘That’s a good point, about the music.’
‘It’s the only thing I can think of.’ He turned quickly to the window. PC Clark was at the gate, gazing out over the common. ‘Interesting that he asked us both to describe what happened.’
‘I suppose he had to.’ Wendy put a couple of coffee mugs on the unit and then paused. ‘But we don’t have anything to hide, do we?’
Rob spun to face her, unsure if that was an allegation. ‘What you said about the blood on his face – it sounded like you were contradicting me.’
‘Not really. Anyway, your tone was getting a bit aggressive.’
‘Because he was glaring at me like I’m the prime suspect.’
Wendy exhaled loudly. ‘Look at it from his point of view. He responds to a call about a badly injured man in our garden. We say it’s nothing to do with us, and he’s, what, just supposed to accept it?’ She mimed tugging a forelock. ‘
Right you are then, sir, I’ll be on my way
. . .’
The bad Cockney accent made him grin, which helped defuse the tension. She was right, of course. The police would naturally consider the possibility that the householders were responsible for the attack – and it probably hadn’t helped that Clark’s first sight of Rob had been when he’d returned from the common, red-faced and sweating.
He fetched the milk and handed it over as a kind of peace offering, but was thrown by her next question. ‘Do you think it’s worth calling Dawn?’
‘And ruin her Sunday evening? That’s not fair.’
‘No, all right, then. I just thought – if they are suspicious of us – she might put in a word on our behalf.’
Rob thought this a foolish idea, but he answered with a shrug. To be in the clear, what they really needed was for the police to identify whoever had tortured that man half to death.
But what if the answer caused more problems than it solved?
E
van and Livvy accepted coffees
, and even Georgia agreed to have a hot chocolate. They’d put a DVD on, some kind of slushy romantic comedy to lighten the mood.
Outside, PC Clark was mooching along the flower beds, and eagerly changed course to collect his tea. No sooner had he taken a sip than his radio bleeped.
With a look of weary resignation, he retreated across the lawn to speak in private. Rob and Wendy tried not to show an interest as he listened, made a couple of muttered comments, then lowered the radio and turned back to the terrace.
‘Cardiac arrest en route to the hospital. Never regained consciousness.’ He tutted, perhaps because his afternoon had become a lot more complicated. ‘Potentially, this is a murder enquiry now.’
B
y six o’clock
Russell Drive was jammed with vehicles, most of them bearing the livery of Hampshire Constabulary. It was one of those summer evenings that feels cooler indoors than out, prompting Wendy to fetch a cardigan.
‘I think I’ve seen Dawn’s car,’ she called from the stairs. ‘Did you contact her?’
‘Not me, no.’ Rob tried not to scowl when, a moment later, the doorbell rang.
Detective Sergeant Dawn Avery was on the step, wearing black leggings and a white t-shirt; still slim, but unmistakably pregnant. Rob greeted her with a brief, careful hug after she and Wendy had shared a longer embrace.
‘Lovely to see you,’ Wendy exclaimed. ‘How many weeks is it now?’
‘Twenty-eight.’ Dawn rested a hand on her belly. ‘This is supposed to be the “blooming” stage, but I just feel knackered all the time.’
‘It’s because there’s no rest with the second one. Is Leo all right?’
‘Yeah, he’s good. Tim’s on bedtime story duty tonight.’ She grinned at Rob. ‘He was disappointed you couldn’t make the bike ride.’
‘Petworth and back?’ Rob said in mock horror. ‘I like cycling, but not that much.’ And then he thought:
Maybe if I’d known what lay in store for us today
. . .
After a little more small talk, Wendy said, ‘We did wonder if you’d be assigned to this.’
‘Actually, I’m not. DS Husein knew we were friends because I recommended your guys to quote for a central heating system.’ Looking slightly embarrassed, she added, ‘The fool went for someone cheaper, and he’s had them back twice to fix leaks.’
‘Oh, well.’ It wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like this. Rob was just grateful that Tim and Dawn, like many of their friends, had done their bit to promote his business after its troubles.
They moved into the living room, which offered a perfect view of the activity taking place on the lawn. There seemed to be at least a dozen officers in attendance, including a team from the Scientific Services Department, clad in the ominous white suits that Rob recognised from many a TV drama.
‘It’s actually a mercy for you that the victim died en route to hospital,’ Dawn told them. ‘If his death had occurred on the lawn, the body wouldn’t have been moved till a full forensic examination had been conducted.’
Spotting DS Husein, Dawn went out for a chat, leaving Wendy to offer Rob an encouraging smile. ‘Makes such a difference to have a friendly face, doesn’t it?’
‘Absolutely,’ Rob agreed, though he wasn’t sure how convincing he sounded.
They’d come to know Dawn well in the ten years she’d been with Tim, who was one of Rob’s oldest friends. To begin with it had been slightly awkward, because they’d been similarly close to Tim’s first wife, Jill. That marriage had foundered on a disagreement over children – to Tim’s dismay, Jill was always adamant she didn’t want them – and Rob and Wendy had never seen him as happy as when Dawn announced she was pregnant with Leo. Now there was a second baby on the way, and Tim seemed undaunted at the idea of becoming a parent again in his late forties. Rob couldn’t imagine anything worse.
He stood and watched Dawn and the other detective in conversation. There were frequent gestures towards the common, and once or twice, when DS Husein glanced back at the house, Rob had to steel himself not to duck out of sight.
Dawn moved on to greet a couple of her colleagues: a spot of workplace banter, judging by the wide smiles and her playful attempt to slap the head of a short, thickset man in an Iron Maiden t-shirt. It reminded Rob that, as horrific as this afternoon’s events had been, to the officers here this was simply another job.
R
eturning to the house
, Dawn accepted a glass of cranberry juice, and told them that attempts would be made to search at least part of the common before darkness fell.
‘Poor DS Husein got lumbered as Deputy SIO, and he has actions up to his eyeballs. It’s a tough ask to gather enough bodies on a Sunday evening – I only got spared because I have to be in London for a trial tomorrow.’
The other priority, she told them, was house-to-house enquiries. ‘Far more likely to catch people at home on a Sunday night than we will in the morning.’
Rob perked up at this. ‘Do you think he was seen, making his way here?’
‘It’s possible, though we’ve had no other reports that fit the bill.’
Without intending to blurt it out, Rob said, ‘And are we being considered as suspects?’
Dawn gave him a sideways glance. ‘Why’d you say that?’
‘Just the impression we had. The first officer on the scene, PC Clark—’
‘Ah, you don’t want to worry about Don.’ Her smile was brief, and slightly unconvincing. ‘Though that’s not to say there aren’t. . . formalities.’
‘Of course,’ Wendy said. ‘You can’t simply take what we say at face val—’
She broke off as DS Husein appeared in the doorway. Now Dawn’s expression grew warmer, and contained a hint of relief.
‘Just the man to put your minds at rest,’ she declared, but Rob couldn’t help adding the word that she seemed to omit.
Hopefully.
D
etective Sergeant Husein was a slim
, graceful man in his late twenties – that was the minimum age Rob assumed he had to be, given his rank – but with his soft brown eyes and clean-shaven skin he could have passed for a decade younger. He was one of the few people present who was formally dressed, in a well-fitting grey suit, which made him look like a schoolboy at a family christening.
He nodded in greeting, his gaze seeming to linger on Dawn’s glass.
‘Would you like some juice?’ Wendy asked.
‘Yes, please. I usually end up drinking gallons of tea and coffee, but I don’t really like the stuff.’
With a teasing smile, Dawn said, ‘Shahid prefers a beaker of squash with a bendy straw, don’t you?’
‘Forget the straw. A sippy cup is even better.’ He raised his eyebrows at Rob. ‘There’s a running joke that I look about twelve.’
Wendy returned with the drink, and Husein sat forward on the sofa, notebook at the ready.
‘We plan to start the search this evening. There’s a chance of rain overnight, but I’m hoping the forecasts are wrong.’ His eyebrows twitched. ‘First I want to check that you’re sure he came from the common?’
Rob said, ‘Well, we didn’t see or hear him till he was at the fence, so no, we’re not a hundred per cent.’
‘There’s a path a few doors down,’ Wendy added. ‘In theory he could have cut through there from the road. Or even come from one of the other gardens.’
‘But across the common is the likeliest route, isn’t it?’ Dawn asked.
They agreed that it was, and Husein said, ‘What we have found are a couple of bloodstains on the far side of your fence, consistent with him brushing against the panels.’ He stared into his glass. ‘Are you certain you didn’t recognise him?’
Rob glanced at Wendy, then immediately wished he hadn’t. It might suggest that they were colluding.
‘Definitely not,’ she said, and Rob nodded in agreement.
Dawn offered Husein a wry smile. ‘Never mind, Shahid. Job would be boring if the answers were there on a plate.’