The Hunter's Prayer (11 page)

Part Three

Chapter Eleven

H
e didn’t see much of the campus from the taxi, just a general overview, a sprawl of modern buildings lost in the rain. Even so, the sight of it produced a twitch of excitement in him; he’d never been to a college before, and it was the one thing he regretted about his youth, that the opportunity had never been available to him.

He ran the twenty yards from the taxi to the archway that led into Radstone Hall, an irregular quad with flower beds and picnic benches, abandoned and wet. There was a building map on the wall of the archway and he stopped to look at it.

Two girls came out of a doorway and passed him before one stopped. ‘Are you lost? Can I help?’

He smiled. These were the kind of people to be found at college.

‘Thanks. I’m looking for D76.’

‘That staircase over there. Third floor.’

He thanked her and walked on. There was another short burst of cold rain, and as he ascended through the floors, a collage of noise, music, voices—all people unseen, a tantalizing suggestion of the hermetic world he was skirting. He felt like a ghost, enviously looking out on a future it could never know.

Ella’s door was closed and there was no response. He strolled along the corridor, the only room open apparently unoccupied, and into a mess of a kitchen where a guy was sitting on an easy chair. He didn’t seem to be doing anything and for a moment he looked expectantly at the opening door, losing interest once he saw Lucas.

‘Hi, I’m looking for Ella Hatto.’

‘Thanks for letting me know.’ The response and the tone caught Lucas off guard; he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him with that kind of insolence, and he was annoyed because it was happening here, in a place where he didn’t want to think badly of anyone.

He walked further into the room so that he was only a few feet away. Lucas noticed now that there was a bad smell in there, like food waste, and he couldn’t understand how anyone could sit there and not be bothered by it.

Giving it a second try, he said, ‘Do you know where she might be, where I might find her?’

‘Probably being a miserable bitch somewhere.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Excused.’ Lucas was still finding it difficult to take on board how rude and arrogant this guy was, and how stupid. It was shattering his whole image of academia that there could be people like this within it.

‘You should be careful who you’re rude to.’

‘Did I ask for advice? What, am I meant to be scared? Are you one of her drug-dealing cohorts or something? Well, I’m not impressed, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave me alone.’

It wasn’t good. This was why he lived the way he did, removed from the world, because it was tough becoming the person he wanted to be when so many other people were this unpleasant.

Lucas smacked him hard in the face, not hard enough to do any real damage but enough to knock him off the chair. It was clear from his expression that the punch had come out of the blue, that the guy had no idea what he might have done to invite it.

He scuttled clumsily across the floor, clutching his face, and backed into the wall.

‘What the fuck was that!’

‘That was a punch. And this is a gun, pointing at your head; lucky for you I’m trying to renounce violence.’

He started towards the door, but the guy shouted after him, saying, ‘I’ll have you fucking crucified for this!’

Lucas turned at the door and said, ‘I just knocked you across the room for cheeking me. You really want to take this further?’

He checked Ella’s door again on the way out, then found a coffee bar. He sat at a small table in the corner, soaking up the atmosphere, the small huddles of students, surges of laughter and conversation. These too seemed like good people and Lucas felt comforted, reassured.

He went back half an hour later. Ella’s door was still closed but he could hear movement inside and when he knocked, she shouted for him to come in. She appeared to be a good way into the process of packing her room up. She looked around as he closed the door behind him and froze midway through folding the duvet.

‘I’d begun to think you might not come.’

She didn’t look well. Or maybe it wasn’t that she looked ill, but that she looked hardened. He couldn’t quite pin it down and then he became conscious that he was staring. He turned his attention to the room and said, ‘Looks like I’m just in time.’

She looked around and said, ‘Yeah, I’m leaving, until next year at least.’ She put the duvet down on the bed, adding, ‘I can still offer you a coffee, though.’

‘No, I’m good.’ He pointed at the chair. ‘May I?’

‘Of course.’ She sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘I read
Persuasion
.’

She looked confused by the comment. These were the parts of conversations he still found difficult, the decorative borders around the real business.

‘Oh, good. Did you enjoy it?’

‘Yes. Not life-changing or anything but a good book. I read some more of hers too.’ She smiled politely, maybe because she hadn’t read any more Austen herself and didn’t know how to respond, maybe just because this wasn’t how people talked to each other. ‘You want me to find the people who killed your family.’

She nodded, looking relieved.

‘And if I find them?’

‘I wanna see whoever it is sent to prison. I want justice.’

Probably the biggest favor he could do her right now would be to get up and walk out. She wanted the truth of what had happened to her family, he could understand that, but she thought it could all be neatly sealed up, that justice would be done if only the evidence could be put before the system.

‘I can find them but I’m telling you straight, you won’t make anything stick. And even if you did, the justice handed out wouldn’t be enough, not for what they did to you.’

‘I don’t understand.’ That looked like an understatement, her expression one of complete bewilderment. ‘You’re saying you can find them but it’s pointless.’

‘It isn’t pointless but you have to be true to yourself about what you really want. If the person who killed your parents and brother was standing in front of you right now, what would you want? Truthfully, what would you want?’

He didn’t say any more, giving her time to think, hoping for her sake, and maybe for his, too, that she’d come down on the tougher side of the fence. He was determined to let her know exactly where the seductive pull of revenge would take her.

A knock on the door broke her introspective spell. She pointed for him to stand by the cupboard, out of sight from the doorway. He moved, and listened as she opened the door.

‘Hello, Brian.’

‘Hello, Ella.’ It was an older man’s voice. ‘I’m really sorry to bother you with this but you know I have to check these things out.’

‘Of course. What is it?’ Lucas knew immediately what this call was about and couldn’t believe the guy from the kitchen had been stupid enough to report it after what he’d said to him. He felt like killing him just as a service to the gene pool.

‘Al Brown claims one of your visitors assaulted him and uh, well, uh . . .’ He sounded embarrassed, as if what he was about to say sounded preposterous even to his ears. ‘He says your visitor threatened him with a gun.’ Ella laughed, the man’s laughter joining hers. ‘I know, I know, but I do have to check it out, and he’s got a black eye.’

‘Brian, I haven’t had any visitors and as it happens, I’m packing. I’ve decided to leave and come back next year.’

‘Oh.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘Mind you, I can understand. It’s not been an easy time for you.’

‘No, it hasn’t, and you can tell the dean that it hasn’t been made any easier by people like Al Brown harassing me and pulling stupid pranks like this.’

‘I see. I didn’t realize but I will certainly mention it to the dean. Now, you will come and have a chat before you go?’

‘Of course. I’ll see you later.’ She closed the door but held her finger up to her lips and waited. A moment or two later she relaxed and smiled but was still quiet as she said, ‘Porter—nice enough. You don’t know anything about hitting somebody, threatening him with a gun?’

Lucas shrugged and said, ‘I’m not used to people being rude to me.’

‘Don’t worry—most people around here would vote to give you an honorary degree, a doctorate if you’d killed him.’ She laughed and sat back on the edge of the bed.

‘What about my question?’

‘The answer’s obvious, isn’t it? I don’t really want him in prison: I want him dead. I want him to suffer. And what you’re really asking me is whether I wanna head down that road. Well, I’m not sure I do, but what’s the alternative?’

‘Get on with your life. Not here, maybe, but somewhere.’

She shook her head slowly and said, ‘I can’t. It’s eating away at me. Sometimes it even makes me feel sick, like I need to throw up. I just know I’ll never rest until I find Ben’s killers. I can’t.’ It could have been a slip but equally, he could imagine how her focus had narrowed to avenging her brother’s death, a death she’d probably never made provision for.

‘Okay. Where are you going?’

‘I’ve booked into the Savoy.’ She laughed, he supposed at her own extravagance. ‘It’s just until I sort out somewhere permanent. I want to get settled in there before telling Simon. He’ll want me to go back to his place otherwise, and I need to look after myself.’

‘Give me your mobile number.’ She looked shocked by his abruptness, but wrote it down on a piece of paper. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I know something. In the meantime, you can still call me on the usual number.’

‘How long do you think it might be, before you’re in touch?’

‘It could be soon. The Savoy’s a nice place. Relax, look for a house. I’ll call.’

‘Okay. And thanks.’

‘Did you tell the police about me?’

For a second she looked baffled by the question but said, ‘No. I mean, yes, that you existed, but we agreed to say we didn’t know your name or where your house was.’ He was relieved.

‘That’s good. One more question. I need to ask Chris a few things, just about what he might have seen, stuff like that. What room is he in?’

As if breaking bad news, she said, ‘Chris and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.’

‘I gathered. I still need to talk to him.’

‘Langford, B15. I can show you where it is.’

‘I’ll find it.’ He stood up and said, ‘Take care. I’ll be in touch.’

It was only as he was walking back across the quad that he thought of all the things he should have said—that he was sorry she and Chris had broken up, that he wanted to be there for her, that she was a good person and deserved better than this. She also deserved better than him, and her willingness to subject herself to the awkwardness of his company said something about how desperate she was.

Langford was a more relaxed, more open place. A couple of people said hi to him as he walked along the corridor and most of the doors were open, the mix of music melding in the corridor into some kind of progressive jazz rock.

Chris’s door was open. He was sitting at his desk working. Lucas stepped into the room a little and knocked. Chris looked up and jumped nervously before regaining his composure.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Jesus! Uh, yeah, sure.’ He gestured him in and Lucas sat on the edge of the bed.

‘I need to ask you something and I need the truth. Did you tell the police about me?’

Before he could say anything else, Chris turned contrite and said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, but they kept saying, “You’re sure you didn’t hear his name?” And you didn’t tell us we had to keep it secret, just that it would be better.’

‘I know. It’s not a problem.’ If anything, he was pleased because it had been Chris; if someone else had given his identity to the police it might have been something to worry about.

‘It didn’t make things difficult for you?’

He shrugged and said, ‘I had a courtesy call, but it’s not in their interest to come after someone like me. You’ve probably made things worse for Ella, though.’ Chris looked confused. ‘Think about it. She stuck with what you agreed, so the police probably think she’s a liar, that she knows more than she’s saying about everything.’

‘Yeah. Look, I’m sorry about that . . .’ He stopped himself and said, ‘Are you working for her? Is that why you’re here?’

‘I’m helping her through a tough time, that’s all.’

Chris shifted in his seat, his voice finding a higher pitch. ‘Look, it’s easy to think I’ve been a bastard here but, Jesus, we were only going out. There’s married couples would split up after something like that happened to them. And I’m twenty. I’m too young to get tied into a relationship that intense.’

‘I agree.’

He was surprised, and his voice was more relaxed when he finally said, ‘That’s not the only reason I bailed, though. I mean, it’s easy to think I’m the cold one but she’s freezing up inside. I tried to get through to her over the summer, I really did, but she turned her back on me first. She’s become so obsessed with finding the culprits, she’s losing sight of what’s around her, other people.’

Lucas mused for a second over his use of the word
culprits
, a strangely innocent-sounding word for the people he was talking about. Then he said, ‘I don’t see it, but even if it’s true, don’t you think it’s understandable?’

‘Maybe. Look, I’m sorry, call me shallow, but my life doesn’t have to be that complicated, not yet. Ella’s a great person, and I’m really sorry this happened to her, but it happened to her, not us, not me. What can I say? I hope she gets her life back.’ Lucas sensed that maybe he was meant to say something in response but wasn’t sure what. After a pause, Chris filled the gap himself, saying, ‘You have any idea who did it?’

Lucas shrugged nonchalantly and said, ‘Not yet. But a hit like this shouldn’t be too hard to trace.’ Chris nodded but looked like there was something he needed to get off his chest, something he was nervous about sharing.

‘You think it’s the uncle.’

Chris looked shocked. ‘How did you know?’

‘Wild guess.’

‘I don’t have any real reason to think it’s him. It was just, when I met him in the summer . . . I don’t know. He seemed phony, like someone covering up.’