Brian Freeman - In the Dark aka The Watcher

It was Randall Stanhope.

Stride had never seen him in person, only on television and in photographs in the newspaper. He was smaller than he expected, no more than five foot eight. He had trimmed gray hair and boxy black glasses, and like the men in the paintings on the wall, he wore a three-piece dark suit. In his left hand, he held a lowball glass filled with ice and an amber-colored drink. In his right hand, he pinched a cigar between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re Ray Wallace, is that right? The chief has told me a lot about you. Says you’re an up-and-comer in the department. I like that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Who’s the boy?” Stanhope asked, fixing his blue eyes on Stride.

“This is Jon Stride,” Ray said. “He was in the park with Peter last night. He’s helping me re-create what happened that led to the death of this young girl, and I thought Peter could fill in some details where Jon wasn’t around.”

Stanhope smiled. “You’re a baseball player, like my son.”

Stride nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well, good.” Stanhope turned to Ray. “I hear they’re about to pick up Elisabeth Congdon’s son-in-law for the murders at Glensheen. Quick work.”

“That’s actually not public yet, sir.”

“Oh, I know, but the mayor called me. Nasty business.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But I know that’s not why you’re here.”

“No, sir. Is Peter in the house? I’d like to ask him a few questions.”

“Absolutely. I was horrified to learn about this girl’s murder. Brutal thing. Naturally, Peter will tell you everything he can. This girl was a friend of his, and he’s anxious to help you find out who killed her.”

“I appreciate that,” Ray said.

“Tell me something honestly, Detective. You don’t for one moment consider my boy to be a suspect, do you?”

“I don’t really have enough information to consider anyone a suspect, sir,” Ray replied.

Stanhope smiled. Ray smiled back.

“The sheriff was right in calling you a smart man, Detective.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’ve talked to Peter in detail about this incident myself. I believe he can help you identify the guilty party.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “He saw who killed Laura?”

“Not the crime itself, but when you hear his story, I think you’ll feel as I do.”

“I’d like to talk to him.”

“Of course. Peter!”

Peter Stanhope sauntered into the library. He had been waiting outside. His blond hair was washed and combed. He was close-shaven. He wore dress pants, a white shirt, a tie, and a tweed blazer. Stride noticed deep scratches on Peter’s broad, freckled face and a misshapen purplish bruise on his forehead. Peter’s gait was stilted and stiff. He shoved his hands in his pockets and grimaced in pain.

Behind Peter, the same maid who had answered the front door entered the library silently and handed Randall Stanhope a large cardboard box. She left, and Stanhope passed the box to Ray.

“Peter’s clothes from last night,” Stanhope said. “Unwashed. Plenty of mud and grass stains, but as you will see, no blood, other than, perhaps, a little of his own. I anticipated that would be one of your first concerns, so I made sure we preserved the evidence.”

Ray crooked a finger at Stride, who peered into the box. He took a quick glance at the clothes and nodded. The clothes in the box were the same clothes Peter had been wearing the night before.

“What happened to you, Peter?” Ray asked.

“Someone kicked the shit out of me, what does it look like?”

Peter snapped. “Peter!” his father interrupted sternly. Stanhope turned to Ray. “I’m sorry. Peter is very upset about what happened.”

“Of course.”

“You see, Peter and Laura were lovers.”

Stride opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it shut. Ray folded his arms and studied Peter, who was leaning uncomfortably against the bookcase. “Is that true, Peter?”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“A couple months.”

“Her sister told me that Laura broke up with you. She said you were pressuring Laura for sex, and Laura said no.”

“I hear yes a lot more than I hear no.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Laura wanted to keep it a secret. Her and me. She didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why is that?”

“Who knows? Girls are weird that way. Maybe she didn’t want everyone asking her for favors, you know? When people hear my last name, they want stuff.”

“So what happened last night?”

Peter glanced at Stride. “There was a big storm up there. It washed out the ball game, and I went running for my car. I waited there until the rain had mostly stopped, and then I went back into the field.”

“Why?”

“I knew Laura would be coming.”

“Did the two of you arrange to meet? Was this a date?”

“We didn’t plan anything in advance, but I saw her in the field with her sister. She gave me a look. I knew what she meant. She was telling me to hang around, so we could get together.”

“A look?” Ray asked.

“Yeah, a look.”

“Okay, go on.”

“I heard her coming, so I surprised her. Came up behind her. She freaked out for a minute, because she didn’t know who it was. That was when she scratched me.” He touched his face.

“She scratched you by accident?”

“Exactly.”

“Then what?”

“Then we started making out. I mean, when she realized it was me, she was really sorry. She said she had heard someone in the woods earlier, and she was scared. Then we started kissing, and we lay down in the grass, and, well, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Ray said.

“We were going to have sex.”

“Right there in the softball field.”

“Sure.”

“And did you?”

Peter shook his head. “No. We were rolling around in the grass, and we were starting to get our clothes off, and that’s when it happened.”

“What happened?”

“This guy attacked us.”

“What guy?”

“I don’t know who he was. Some big black guy.”

“What did this guy do?”

“He hit me with my baseball bat.”

“How did he get your bat?”

“I left it in the field. He must have picked it up. He hit me in the back. The doc says I’ve got some broken ribs. Then he yanked me off Laura. I mean, he picked me up like I was a rag doll. This guy was strong. Laura screamed, and I saw her run for the woods, trying to get away. He started after her. He still had the bat in his hand. I got up and took a swing at him, and he punched me in the head with his fist. Knocked me out cold, flat on my back. That’s all I remember.”

Ray looked at him. “What happened when you woke up? How long were you out?”

“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes maybe.”

“Where was Laura? Where was this black guy?”

“They were both gone.”

“Didn’t you look for her?”

Peter shuffled his feet. “No.”

“This girl is your lover, and some guy chased her into the woods, and you woke up and just left?”