Chapter 19 #2
“Is it the same weapon?” I knew enough about knives to understand that they all had their own signature, minute, microscopic details about the blade that meant you could tell whether it was highly likely that the same one had been used.
Not as easy or as reliable as determining whether the same gun was used to fire different bullets, but still.
“I think so. I’d stand up in court and say it was.
The injuries show identical serration impact.
If you can get hold of the weapon, I could be even more certain, and I know a specialist who would have even more impact with a jury.
” He brought the strawberries over to the kitchen island and then fished a jug of cream from the fridge. “I have ice cream, if you want?”
“Cream’s fine. Thank you.”
“What’s you’re take on it? I know there’s no one strong lead at the moment.” He sat back down, waiting for me to finish with the cream before pouring it on his.
“The theory – the main one – is that it’s more than one killer. The murders are slightly different. Nick’s been looking at incel forums online and right-wing extremists who hate women, so there’s the hate crime angle.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“I’m not. I think there’s a link with the victims that we haven’t found yet.
They’re all the same age or thereabouts.
The two we’ve identified didn’t go to the same school or college, and they aren’t linked on social media, but it feels like there’s something there we just aren’t seeing.
” Something I was trying to grasp for but it kept pulling out of reach, and I couldn’t quite see what it was.
“What about the stones?”
“They’re personal. I spoke to Daniel – you remember my old professor – about them today, and he thought it might be to do with the stoning of a woman, punishment for a sin, and I can see how that’ll go down well with the team tomorrow, but I don’t think it’s that.”
“Daniel Fletcher? The man you thought was God when you were at university?”
“Yeah, him. I go and see him occasionally. The police sometimes use him as a consultant.”
“I always thought he was a wanker.”
“I can see why. He lives at the top of an ivory tower, but he can be insightful sometimes.” I wasn’t sure why I often came to his defence.
Vinny thought he was a wanker too, but then Vinny’s judgement wasn’t always reliable.
“I should head home.” There were no strawberries left and tomorrow was an early start.
“Sure? I’d offer you to stay over but you’d have to sleep in here, unless you fancied taking your chances with a night on the bedroom carpet of a fifteen-year-old in nineteen-ninety-two,” he grinned, picking up my drained bowl.
I smiled because it’d been a pleasant evening and nowhere near as awkward or angsty as I thought I was going to make it. “I’ll pass. Besides, Jenna’s probably waiting for you to phone her and give her a rundown on everything we said.”
“She is. She felt bad that you heard about us through the grapevine.” He shrugged, usual, steady, calm Nathaniel. “Will you come round again at the weekend?”
“Maybe we could go out? My treat.”
“I was thinking you could help de-nineties the top floor bedrooms with bin bags and a wallpaper scraper.”
“Maybe.” I shoulder checked him as we headed to the door. “Course I will. It’s what little sisters are for.”
I saw his smile then, one I hadn’t seen before, a confectionary of pear drops and chocolate and sour cherries, and it made me throw my arms around him and hug him, a frozen two seconds before he did the same back.
“I’m glad you’re in my city.” I whispered the words through tears that I refused to let fall.
“I’m glad I’m here. We can ward off Stan together. I have your back.”
“Tell Jenna hi from me.” I tightened my grip, and then I let go, heading off into the night to head to the tram station.
I was never afraid of the dark. I’d learned to enjoy how it offered a cover, a shield, and understood how others use that as a tool as well.
The tram stop wasn’t far from Nate’s house, the trams frequent enough and busy enough to not make me feel as if I had to be overly vigilant, but still, I felt a pair of eyes on me, staying on me when I got off, ten minutes away from my apartment.
I upped my pace, keeping near the houses that were lit up, making a point of saying good evening to a dog walker, still feeling like I was under surveillance.
There was only one point when I thought I saw someone, a man, tall and broad and dark haired. His face was in the shadows, probably deliberately so, and there was something familiar about him
One of Stan’s minions, maybe.
I kept my wits about me as I thought about the evening and Nate.
I didn’t form attachments easily, which was understandable really, given Carla’s inconsistent parenting and a man who I thought was my dad in and out of my life when he felt like, and not in it very often.
I wanted to make connections – with friends, boyfriends, my half-brother, to have what I perceived were ‘normal’ relationships, even though I knew there was no such thing, just healthy and unhealthy relationships.
Nate having been gone from my life for four years and then just turning up without even a warning had spun me round.
Could I trust him? Could he trust me? Wasn’t he just as damaged as I was, but how had he healed?
Daniel had talked me through some of the insecurities and fears I’d harboured, showing me a mirror where I could see that I was wanted and needed.
Not everyone would reject me, but that didn’t stop me from pushing someone away before I could give them that power.
The man was still near. Was he following me?
Was Nate regretting coming to Manchester because I was there? Did my blowing hot and cold make him think I was more trouble than I was worth?
The overthinking of the last couple of hours was punctuated with me trying to sense where my follower was. But next time I looked around he was gone.
Maybe I was just being paranoid.
Maybe.