Peter Robinson - Cold Is The Grave

“About half past six, seven o’clock.”

“Do you remember what time Emily got there?”

“She was the last to arrive. Must’ve been about seven, maybe a few minutes later.”

So that left Emily four hours unaccounted for between the three-o’clock appointment she had mentioned to Banks and meeting her friends in the Cross Keys.

“How did she seem?”

“Fine.”

“Normal?”

“For Emily.”

“And what time did you come here?”

“About half ten. It was pretty quiet. Like the barman says, it doesn’t usually get going till half past eleven or so. But they serve drinks, and there’s music, so you can dance.”

“How many people would you say were here?”

“Not a lot. They kept coming in, like, but it wasn’t that busy.”

“More than now?”

Darren looked around. “No, about this many.”

“What happened next?”

“We got some drinks in, then Emily went to the toilet. We were dancing after that, I remember, then she said she wasn’t feeling very well.”

“What did she say was wrong with her?”

Darren shook his head. “Just that she didn’t feel well. She said she was getting a stiff neck.” He rubbed his own neck and looked at Banks. “Was it drugs? It was drugs, wasn’t it?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Just the way she was behaving. You know, like she was flying up there in her own world. Like I said, she’s pretty wild.”

“How well did you know Emily, Darren?”

“I told you, hardly at all. When she was home from school for the holidays she’d hang out with me and Rick and Jackie and Tina over there. That’s all. I was never her boyfriend or anything. She wasn’t interested in me like that. We just danced sometimes, went out with the gang. Had fun.” He ran his hand over his greasy dark hair.

“Did you ever supply her with drugs, Darren?”

“Me? Never. I don’t touch them.”

There was something in his tone that made Banks believe him. For the moment. “Okay. So she felt poorly. What happened next?”

“She said she thought she might need some more medicine.”

“What did she mean by that?”

“More drugs, I assumed. Whatever she was taking.”

“Go on.”

“So she went back to the toilet.”

“How long after her first visit?”

“Dunno. Fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe.”

Banks looked up and saw Peter Darby, the photographer, come in with his battered Pentax hanging around his neck. Banks pointed toward the toilets, where the uniformed policeman still stood on guard, and Darby nodded as he headed toward the tape. Annie dropped by the table and told him the SOCOs were on their way. Banks asked her to take statements from Darren and Emily’s friends across the room. He drank down the rest of his brandy and asked, “What happened next?”

“She was a long time. I started to get worried, especially with her saying she wasn’t feeling well.”

“When you say a long time, just how long do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Ten minutes. Quarter of an hour. Maybe longer. You don’t expect someone to stay in the toilet that long if they’re all right. I thought maybe she was being sick. She’d been drinking steadily most of the evening, a really weird mix of stuff, and she didn’t eat anything in the Cross Keys.”

Or at lunchtime in the Black Bull, Banks remembered, where she had also been drinking some odd concoctions. “Were many people going in and out of the ladies’ toilet during that time?”

“I never really looked. But the place wasn’t that busy, so maybe not.”

“You didn’t ask anyone to check on her? Jackie or Tina?”

“Tina went in after about five minutes and came right back out. She said Emily was making funny sounds, as if she was being sick or something, and she wouldn’t open the door of the stall.”

“Wouldn’t or couldn’t?”

Darren shrugged.

“What did you do then?”

“I thought about it for a bit, then I decided to go in and see what was up.”

“When was this?”

“Must’ve been about five or ten minutes later, when she still hadn’t come out.”

“Had others been in and out in the meantime?”

“Like I said, I didn’t keep an eye on the place all the time, but I saw a couple of girls come and go.”

“Are they still here?”

Darren pointed out two of the girls at separate tables. “Okay,” said Banks, “we’ll talk to them later. They didn’t say if anything was wrong, though?”

“No. Just Tina thought she was being sick.”

“So you went in the ladies’ yourself?”

“Eventually, yes. I was worried. I mean, I’d been dancing with her. I felt she was sort of…”

“Your responsibility?”

“In a way. Yes.”

“Even though she wasn’t your girlfriend?”

“She was still a friend.”

“What did you find in there?”

Darren looked away and turned pale again. “You know. You’ve seen it. God, it was horrible. It’s like she wasn’t even human.”

“I’m sorry to put you through it, Darren, but it could be important. Describe to me what you found. Was anyone else in there at the time?”

“No.”

“Was the stall door locked?”

“Yes.”

“So how did you know there was something wrong?”

“First I called her name and she didn’t answer. Then I just, like, listened at the door and I couldn’t hear anything. No sounds of her being sick or even breathing. I got really scared then.”

“So what did you do?”

“I went into the next stall and climbed on the toilet. The walls don’t come right up to the ceiling, so you can lean over and look down. That’s when I saw her. She was looking up at me… all bruised and twisted… and her eyes…” He put his head in his hands and started to sob.

Banks touched his shoulder. “It’s all right, Darren. Go ahead and cry.”

Darren let his tears run their course, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked up. “Who could do something like that?”

“We don’t know. We don’t know how , either. Apart from the two girls you mentioned, did you see anyone else go in the toilet while Emily was in there sick?”

“No. But I told you I wasn’t looking all the time.”

“You must have been looking quite often, though, if you were worried. You must have been keeping an eye on the door to see if Emily came out again.”

“I suppose so. But I didn’t notice anyone else, no.”

“See any men go in?”

“No.”

“Did anyone come in and out while you were there checking on her?”

“No. Look, I didn’t do this. You’re not-”

“Nobody’s suggesting that, Darren. I’m just trying to get everything clear, that’s all. When you saw her, did you know that she was dead?”

“I couldn’t know . I mean, I didn’t take her pulse or anything. I didn’t touch her. But her eyes were open, staring, and her neck was in a weird position, as if someone had broken it or something. And I couldn’t see any signs of life.”

“What did you do?”

“I went to the manager and he phoned the police.”

“Did anyone else enter the toilet before Inspector Jessup and DC Rickerd arrived?”

“I don’t think so. The manager had a quick look – I was with him the whole time – then he phoned the police and the ambulance. He stayed by the door until the policemen arrived, and he wouldn’t let anyone in the ladies’. He made a couple of girls use the men’s toilet. They complained. I remember that. But the police were quick.”

“They didn’t have far to come. Did anyone leave the club?”

“A couple of people might have left. But mostly people were arriving. It was still early. And I wasn’t really paying attention. I was just worried about Emily, and afterwards I was sort of in shock. The music kept going for quite a long time after… after I found her. People were still dancing. Even after the police came. They didn’t really know anything serious had happened.”