Butterfly Grave (Murder Notebooks) (18 page)

‘I’ve just got back from giving my statement to the police. Me and Rory went together and I wanted to tell you what he told me. I know you think he did Skeggs but he didn’t. He left after the ruck out the back of the pub which you had a hand in, Josh. He went off on his own and he said he hooked up with Michelle Hinds. They went to the Beer Hut, that pub at the jetty? Used to be the Fisherman’s Rest? His brother was there with some of his mates. They stayed there till gone midnight then he went round to George Knightly’s. That was the party most people ended up at. We all saw him arrive about twelve thirty. He was with Michelle in the pub and then the two of them came to George’s. He wasn’t on his own. He couldn’t have done anything.’

‘Michelle Hinds?’ Joshua said.

‘Yeah. They are an on-off sort of thing.’

‘She’s
with
him?’

‘Not really. They’re mates and sometimes . . .’

‘With
Rory
?’

‘You know what Michelle’s like,’ Martin said, his eyes flicking towards Rose and back to Joshua. ‘You kept her company once or twice as I remember. He said he met her as he came out of the Lighthouse and she took his arm and they walked towards the Beer Hut.’

‘So we’ve only got Michelle Hinds’ word for it.’

‘Why would she lie?’

Joshua sighed.

‘In any case the police will check other people at the pub. And there’s his brother.’

‘He’d lie for him!’

‘Go and ask Michelle. She still lives with her sister in Petty’s Lane.’

Joshua stood up. Martin carried on talking.

‘Rory’s changed. Don’t get me wrong – he’s still a total loser but it’s all mouth. He just says it to keep up a front.’

‘But why couldn’t he just leave Skeggs alone?’

‘Because no one else round here takes him seriously. Skeggs comes back and Rory’s got someone to wind up. But he wouldn’t stab him. He just wouldn’t.’

‘When did his brother get out of prison?’

‘A few months back. Look, I told you, Rory’s been going to my old boxing club. He’s trying to make something of himself. He’s got a mouth on him but that’s all.’

‘Where is Rory now?’

‘He’s back at his mum’s. You shouldn’t go and see him, Josh. Not the way you’re feeling now. Go and see Michelle. Talk to her.’

Rose looked at the two of them. They were standing a few steps apart. On Friday night, in the pub, they’d hugged each other, pleased to be meeting up again. Now there was a barrier between them.

‘You all right, Rose?’ Martin said.

She nodded and gave him a weak smile. He’d done nothing wrong, just become embroiled in other people’s fights.

Martin stood at his front door as they drove off. Rose raised her hand in a tiny wave.

‘How do you know Michelle?’

‘From the girls’ school. She had a boyfriend at our school, then another, then another. She was never short of company.’

‘Even with you?’

‘I spent some time with her. Lots of boys did.’

Rose felt a pang of sadness. She didn’t like to think of Joshua like just any other boy. She didn’t picture him as a sweaty teen in the back of a car trying to get his hand up a girl’s blouse. Not that she had ever had such an experience but she had heard girls from her boarding school talking about it. Her silence was heavy with things she wanted to say, to ask, but now wasn’t the right time.

They pulled up outside a row of small cottages. There were Christmas lights hanging from the guttering that shimmered in the darkness. The front door opened and Michelle stood there. She looked as though she was all ready to go out somewhere, her hair and make-up the same as Rose had seen them in the pub the previous Friday night. She had a fitted top on over some jeans and high heels.

‘Martin sent me a text and said you were coming,’ she said, loudly, confidently. ‘I could do with a break as it goes. How about a ride?’

‘Get in,’ Josh said.

Michelle ducked back inside and came out with a coat and bag. Rose held the passenger seat up so that she could get into the back. When Rose sat down and the car moved off she could smell heavy perfume.

‘Don’t suppose I can smoke?’ Michelle said.

‘No.’

‘Can’t smoke here, can’t smoke there, can’t smoke anywhere.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Let’s go to Cullercoats. The old cafe. Nobody minds me smoking there.’

They drove in silence and within minutes pulled up into a parking spot not far from where she and Joshua had walked Poppy on the day before Christmas Eve. They got out of the car, Michelle emerging unruffled from the back seat and marching ahead, her cigarette in her hand. They headed for the boarded up cafe. The outside area was partly sheltered by an awning with brick walls on each side and looked out on to the North Sea. There were benches and tables, all fixed to the ground, some of them in the open air but most covered. The area had the look of frequent use, with crushed-up beer cans thrown into the corner, cigarette butts everywhere.

‘Heard about your uncle. That was awful. Now this. Your friend. A bad time for you, Josh.’

‘Yeah.’

There was quiet and Rose felt awkward. She waited for Joshua to speak but he said nothing. He looked mildly embarrassed.

‘I’m Rose, by the way,’ she said.

‘I saw you in the pub the other night. You’re not from round here.’

‘I live in London,’ Rose said and looked around at the desolate cafe. ‘Is it closed for the winter?’

‘It’s been closed for a couple of years,’ Michelle said, sitting on a bench, lighting up. ‘Someone said that it had a new owner so I suppose we’ll have to find somewhere else soon.’

‘Can’t you go to a pub or something?’ Joshua said. ‘You’re not fourteen any more.’

‘As I recall you used to like coming up here. Especially when it was just you and me, Josh.’

Joshua made a face. Rose looked away. Michelle was sucking on her cigarette.

‘Christmas Eve. You were with Rory at the Fisherman’s Rest,’ Joshua said.

‘Called the Beer Hut now. Nice and trendy.’

‘What time were you with him?’

Michelle exhaled, blowing the smoke to the side.

‘I’m sorry about your friend. I never knew him. Darren, was that his name?’

Joshua nodded.

‘In London, wasn’t he? At university?’

She pronounced it in syllables, u-ni-ver-sit-y. As if it was another world.

‘What time did you meet him?’

‘Don’t be in such a rush, Josh. You got no time to talk with me? No time for a little bit of chit-chat.’

‘My best mate is dead. I don’t feel like chit-chat.’

‘ ’Course you don’t. I understand that. But it’s not just now, is it? You were a nice boy, polite, sweet, as long as you got something in return. Soon as you got that you had no time for chit-chat with Michelle. Walk past me in the street. No time to even say hello. Why was that? Exactly?’

‘I don’t know what you mean. This isn’t the time to talk about
that
. . .’

‘There never will be any time to talk about it. What do my feelings matter? A girl’s bit of hurt pride don’t measure up, I know. But it’s there all the same.’

‘And is Rory Spenser different?’ Joshua said angrily.

‘Rory’s a mate. Sometimes it’s a bit more than that. I saw him outside the Lighthouse on Christmas Eve and he was upset, angry so I says,
Come down the
Fisherman’s
with me
, so he did. We saw his brother Sean in there. He bought us a drink and then he cleared off. After twelve we started to walk to Georgie Knightley’s. I dunno what time we got there. About half hour later. That’s all I got to say.’

Michelle stood up. She threw the butt of her cigarette away.

‘The trouble with you, Josh-u-a, is that you think you’re something special. You go to the grammar school, you get your exams, you get into u-ni-ver-sit-y and you think you’re better than everyone else. You might know more, you might speak with a nice accent but I remember when you and me were sitting up here on summer evenings looking out at the sea. Then you wasn’t better than me. Then you was sweet and kind. You might think that what we did up here was just nothing to me but you were wrong. You might believe all the other boys in your school who said they did it too but I only spent time up here with kids I really liked and all I hoped was that when they saw me or passed me in the street they might say hello and stop for a bit of chit-chat. I’ll be on my way now. Don’t worry about giving me a lift back. I’ll walk.’

She walked off, away from the cafe. Joshua seemed stunned. Rose looked at him with annoyance. She ran after Michelle.

‘Wait,’ she called. ‘Hang on. Michelle!’

Michelle turned round. Her hair was blowing back in the wind.

‘Joshua is really upset now. That’s why he’s being . . . He’s so wound up with what happened to Skeggsie he can’t think straight.’

‘But you don’t get it, Rose. He’s always been like this with me. Ever since . . .’ Michelle gestured towards the cafe.

‘He was a schoolboy then. Now he’s different.’

‘How come he hardly had a word to say to me in the pub on Friday night? Why did he blank me then?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s totally embarrassed at how he acted. That’s the only thing I can think of. The Josh I know is so  the complete opposite of what you’re describing. I can only think that it’s embarrassment.’

Joshua had come up to them.

‘I’m sorry, Michelle.’

Michelle gave a smile.

‘Really?’ she said.

‘I’ve been a total prat.’

‘So next time you see me in the pub you’ll say hello?’

‘I’ll buy you a beer and we’ll talk.’

She stared at him. It was hard to know whether she’d stopped being angry.

‘OK. That’s a deal.’

‘Do you want a lift?’

‘No. I’m heading for the Royal Hotel. I’m on duty at six. Trainee Receptionist!’

They began to walk towards the car. Michelle continued to talk.

‘Now me and Rory was together from about eleven until about two when we left Georgie’s party. I will say one thing, though. He was upset. He was furious at you, Josh, not so much the other boy, Darren. He was ranting about you to Sean. Then Sean got angry. He left soon after.’

‘Sean?’

‘Rory ain’t violent any more. I don’t think he would stab your friend. But
Sean
might.’

They were at the car.

‘You sure you don’t want a lift home?’

‘No, I’m doing extra evenings at the Royal this week. Christmas period a lot of staff are off. It’s extra cash for me so I don’t mind. See you. And you, Rose. Thanks for the chat. Oh, and you won’t find Sean Spenser at home. Rory told me he hasn’t seen him since Christmas Eve. That’s what happens with Sean. Sometimes they don’t see him for weeks.’

‘Thanks.’

Michelle walked off and gave a backwards wave. Rose couldn’t help but smile at the brash, forthright girl. She looked towards Joshua but saw that he had already got back into the car and was starting up the ignition.

She got in and they drove off.

TWENTY

Joshua made a call to Bob Skeggs as soon as they got back to the house. His voice was rapid and forceful. Rose could hear bits of the conversation and felt wearied by it all. ‘He left the Lighthouse at eleven . . . Rory Spenser with Michelle Hinds . . . Sean Spenser hasn’t been seen since . . . The Fisherman’s Rest now called the Beer Hut . . . Skeggsie’s body found at eleven forty-five . . . Party at George Knightley’s . . .’

She headed into the kitchen and put the shopping away. On the table was Skeggsie’s laptop. She booted it up and entered Skeggsie’s password. Then she went upstairs to get her own laptop and brought it back down and placed it alongside Skeggsie’s. Both machines came to life, one lagging after the other. After a few moments she felt Joshua standing behind her. He seemed charged, pent up, as if he needed to be
doing
something. She didn’t know what to say to him. He spoke first.

‘Bob’s got some autopsy details and early forensics. I’d said I’d go round to his place and have a look at them. You can come if you want.’

‘No, I’ll stay here and get on with sending these messages.’

‘Thanks, Rose. I appreciate what you’re doing.’

She turned to smile at him but he’d gone. Seconds later she heard the front door shut. It seemed as if he couldn’t wait to get out. She turned back to the computer. The first thing she wanted to do was to write to Eddie. She was sending the message from
her
laptop. She did not want Eddie, or any of the college tutors, to receive an email from Skeggsie’s laptop. She made a number of starts.

Dear Eddie, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Skeggsie?.
. .

Dear Eddie, I’m writing as a very close friend of Darren Skeggs?.
. .