Page 15 of Watching You
‘Coffee, thanks. I have a little one at home myself. My placenever looked as tidy as this though. I don’t know how you do it.’
‘My wife’s the organised one. She’s at work, so I try to minimise the chaos. Usually means a frantic half hour before she walks back through the door. Here you go.’ She handed over a steaming mug and sat down opposite Salter. ‘So you want to know about him?’
‘Please.’ Salter took out her notebook. ‘You said you were ninety per cent certain it was a boy you went to school with?’
‘Yeah, I mean, it’s difficult because it’s a reconstruction I guess, but it looks a lot like Dale. He lived just round the corner from us in Buckstone. Could I have another look? Do you have the picture with you?’
Salter took the printout from her pocket, unfolded it and slid it across the table. She had the digital version on her mobile, but her experience had always been that people trusted their eyes more when it came to paper images rather than digital ones. She let Lucy take her time considering it.
‘I’m sure,’ Lucy said. ‘I just wish I could remember his surname. It started with an A, I’m positive. He really hasn’t changed very much even though I haven’t seen him for maybe fifteen years. We finished our Highers at the same time, then I went to uni in Stirling, but I don’t know what he did.’
‘So the two of you weren’t close?’
She shifted in her seat. ‘Not at all. No one was really close with him. I barely saw him in my last two years as we didn’t have any subjects together. Before that, people kind of avoided him.’
Salter let that sit for a minute. Lucy had something to tell her, and it was best not to interrupt.
‘Sorry, I just want to check on the baby.’ Lucy got up, popped into the lounge, then sat back down. ‘He was a bit creepy. Andthat’s a horrible thing to say because he’s dead now – assuming it’s him – so I feel like a bit of a bitch.’
‘That’s not your responsibility,’ Salter said. ‘Why don’t you tell me everything you—’
‘Abnay!’ Lucy cried, slapping a hand over her mouth immediately and looking in the direction of the lounge. ‘Dale Abnay. That’s it! I remember feeling sorry for him at primary school because he was always alone, and I was raised to be kind. Not everyone was. They called him “Horsey”, which was horrible.’
Salter looked back at the picture taken from the specialist skull reconstruction and could see where the nickname had originated. Dale Abnay’s face was long and thin, with a hooked nose that seemed to extend the length of his face. His eyes were slightly wider set than the average, and his jaw was very rounded at the bottom. Abnay hadn’t had the easiest start to life.
‘Do you know anyone who might have stayed in touch with him?’ Salter asked.
‘No one, definitely no females. He got a bit strange. Obsessive, you know? That’s the only reason I recognised him. For a while, he used to hang around in the hallway between lessons and watch me. I don’t mean he ever did anything, and most of the time he was just smiling. Sometimes he’d try and talk to me, but I was too embarrassed and struggling to come to terms with the slow realisation that I was gay. One day – he might have turned up at my house, but the memory is really vague – he asked me out and I just sort of blanked him. I think I was polite, but I don’t really know. I was stupid enough to tell my mates about it and they took the piss out of me for ages. I don’t think I ever saw him again after that.’
‘Is that the last thing you recall?’
‘There were rumours of him behaving weirdly towards othergirls after that. He didn’t seem to take a hint or be able to read body language.’
‘And how accurate is this facial reconstruction? It’s relatively easy for us to get the basics right but we often get lips, eyes and the tip of the nose wrong.’
‘I’d say the nose is right, but the skin is wrong. He suffered badly with eczema which was painful just to look at and also resulted in a ton of bullying. He had thinner lips than you’ve given him, and his eyes were a sort of tawny almost yellowish colour, like an animal’s. I don’t mean to sound so awful.’
‘You don’t,’ Salter said. ‘Did he have any particular hobbies? Was he on any sports teams at school, or was he part of the drama club or chess club?’
‘He was more a watcher than a doer,’ Lucy muttered. From the lounge, her baby began a rapid, reedy cry that Salter recognised as hunger.
‘I’ll let you go. Thanks for calling this in. We appreciate the help.’
‘Did anyone else call after it was on the news? I mean, it’s odd that he wasn’t reported missing or anything. Makes me feel bad for him.’
‘We’ll try to figure that out,’ Salter said.
She called in the identification as she headed back down the stairs. By the time Salter reached her car, they already had an address.
Chapter 15
1 June
‘No one home,’ Lively told Salter as she pulled up at the unit in the caravan park near Buckstone. ‘Looks like you might have found our man.’
‘We should let the superintendent know and ask her to expedite the entry warrant.’
‘It’s a caravan, not a house, and the man who lives there appears to be dead. Plus, he’s on a database.’
