He checked his watch and followed them into the church, a bright building, clear glass windows, giving it the look of an administrative building rather than a holy place. The pews were facing each other across the aisle but they were full and between them there were rows of additional seats facing forward.
He sat on one of the few empty chairs in a row near the back and took in the congregation, mainly men in suits, more women up near the front, Rob’s parents looking the way he remembered them from college. He noticed Rebecca sitting near the front too and thought maybe he’d speak to her afterwards.
Then he noticed the most obvious thing in the place, something which his eyes had still managed to register last, Rob’s coffin sitting in front of the altar, looking like part of the church’s fittings. It was too unreal, Alex feeling a desperate need to see inside it, to get proof, a need he quickly dismissed as a standard response to grief.
And yet grief itself was an inappropriate word for what he was feeling, his thoughts too internalized and self-absorbed. He wasn’t even sure that he felt anything for Rob right now, his death serving only as a device for cranking up the tension another notch in his own claustrophobic little drama.
He looked around at the rest of the congregation, wondering what they felt. Most of them looked emotionally isolated, aware of those around them but locked in a personal struggle, like people treading water at sea after a shipwreck. Only a few seemed to be talking quietly, expressions of disbelief or saddened resignation.
Alex looked at them all and knew he didn’t feel what they felt. He felt nervous, afraid even. A part of him was at least concerned for Matt and Natalie but now even that was being tempered by the fear that one of them was behind this, that one of them was eliminating the people who could place them in that car on that night.
The service started but Alex was distracted now, thinking through the logistics, what kind of resources someone would need to kill people in such an extraordinary way. To have killed Will would probably have been within the capabilities of an enthusiastic amateur but Rob’s death would have taken a lot of contacts, a lot of power.
And if the same person had killed both of them he was pretty certain it had to be one of the five. Even if some of them had talked in the years since, he couldn’t see how it would have got back to someone who might want to avenge Emily Barratt’s death. And someone who’d wanted revenge would have had an easier option too - the police, justice.
If the deaths were suspicious they were almost certainly linked to Emily Barratt’s death but beyond that the possibilities were limited - a revenge killer or someone who wanted to hush up the past. He knew nothing of her family and he hadn’t had much to do with his friends for ten years, but his mind was heading instinctively in one direction only.
It had to be one of the five. And sadly, it had to be Matt. It was a difficult thought to take on board, that the Matt they’d known ten years ago could be responsible for something like this, but it had to be him. The journalists had mentioned the CIA, the friendly fire had come from the US army, and like Rob himself had said, Matt was the one most likely to be in a position now where he might need to clean up the past like that.
Alex had been going through the motions of the service without paying much attention but a guy got up to read the lesson now, Rob’s brother, a physical similarity that was alarming. Alex didn’t even remember him having a brother. He began to read, his voice disturbingly similar too, remaining steady and composed.
When he finished and walked away Alex became aware of the guy sitting next to him. He’d been conscious of him only as someone in a dark blue suit but he began to sob now, quietly, his head bowed.
Alex turned and looked at him, a guy of around their own age. He thought of saying something but didn’t, unsure what to say, and then he noticed that the woman on the other side had put her hand on top of the crying man’s, squeezing it gently, reminding him perhaps that he wasn’t alone in this.
It seemed a fitting gesture, one that Alex couldn’t have offered. He wasn’t even sure what he would have said to the man beyond the standard selection of empty condolences. Some people were good to have around in a time of crisis, but he wasn’t one of them. He never had been.
When the service ended Alex went with the flow out of the church. Rob’s parents and brother were at the door shaking hands with the congregation, thanking them, acknowledging that it was a beautiful service. There were enough people passing through the door though, for Alex to slide past without them even noticing him.
He waited outside where plenty of other people were milling around, talking, letting off the steam of all that dignified and pent-up emotion. He was looking out for Rebecca, wanting to speak to her. He saw her appear in the doorway but she talked to Rob’s brother and parents for a few minutes.
He kept watching, only vaguely aware of the other people around him, and then he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He turned and stared for a second or two at the woman standing there, a momentary struggle to take in who it was.