He shakes his head. ‘Why would it?’
“He was a bank manager. You sure you’ve never heard of him?’
‘Does it look like I ever needed a bank manager? How’d she die? Was she buried alive? Oh, Jesus, don’t tell me that.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘You’re not sure? Did you see her?’
‘Yes.’
“How’d she look?’
‘She was still wearing the ring,’ I say, which isn’t quite true.
SHow’d she look?’ he repeats.
‘She’s been dead two years, David. That’s how she looked.’
He runs both his hands through his hair. ‘Jesus,’ he says. ‘This isn’t right.’ He throws back the blankets and stands up. He’s wearing a pair of boxer shorts, and his body is pasty white. He pulls on a pair of jeans.
‘It never is. Tell me what happened.’
‘What?’
‘When you last saw her, tell me what happened.’
‘Nothing happened. It was just a non-moment. I can’t even remember.’
‘Sure you can. Everybody remembers the last moments.’
David’s moment turned out to be like any other. He had dinner with her. They ate fast food while they studied. They went to bed together, though he tells me the house was tidier back then. They woke up together; he headed for class and she went to find some breakfast. It was a slice-of-life moment that has probably been playing over and over in his head for the last two years. He’ll have been thinking about all the factors that had to come together for this to have happened. He could have skipped class. His class could have been at a different time. Or hers could have been. They could have had breakfast together.
They could have had dinner separately the night before. Any link in the chain could have been broken and the result would be that they’d still be together.
The reality is, of course, they could have broken up or he could have got her pregnant and left her for a life of less responsibility, or she could have cheated on him. Young love can lead anywhere.
But it never should have led to this. He says he didn’t even know she was missing, that he figured she’d gone home that night and hadn’t called.
‘Was she having any problems?’
“None that she told me about.’
‘Anybody giving her a hard time? Hanging around? Anything at all out of the ordinary?’
‘You don’t think I’ve been asked these questions? Man, I’ve been over this with so many other people, and I’ve been over it with myself every single fucking day. I loved her. I still do.’
‘Where’d she go for breakfast?’
‘She ate at a university cafe. You guys already know that.’
I don’t feel the need to correct his impression that I must be a cop.
‘Humour me.’
He starts pacing the room. ‘She was spotted in there. She left around ten-thirty. She ate bacon and eggs smothered in tomato sauce. I never figured out how she could eat that combination.
Then she left. And that’s all anybody knows.’
‘Was she supposed to meet anybody?’
‘She was going to class.’
‘Was she seeing anybody?’
‘What, like having an affair?’
‘Was she?’
‘Rachel would never have done that.’
‘Would you?’
‘Hell no. I loved her.’
‘So you can’t think of anywhere else she might’ve gone.’
“I don’t know, man. If I did, I’d tell you.’
‘Okay, okay. Who else can I ask?’
‘What?’
‘She has to have a best friend, right? Who would she talk to when she was complaining about you?’
‘She didn’t complain.’
‘Then you must’ve been the perfect boyfriend.’
‘Alicia North. They’d go shopping all the time and they’d complain about men. Rachel said she did it more for Alicia than for herself. But Alicia didn’t see her that day. I think Rachel did it because she loved shopping. It was kind of annoying. She used to make all these damn impulse buys.’
‘Where does Alicia live?’
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her since.’
‘Ever heard of a woman called Julie Thomas?’
‘Umm … not that I can think of. Is she a student here?’
“No. You sure you haven’t heard of her?’
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘She went missing around the same time as Rachel. What about Jessica Shanks?’
‘She go missing too?’ he asks.
‘You heard of her?’
He shakes his head.
‘What about Bruce Alderman?’ I ask.
‘Alderman? Umm … no, I don’t think so. Should I have?’
“I don’t know’
‘Did he kill Rachel?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Can’t you interrogate him or something?’
‘He’s dead. He shot himself last night. But he says he didn’t do it.’
He stops pacing. ‘What? He shot himself? I … umm … do you believe him? That he didn’t do it?’
‘Enough to keep looking into it.’
‘Her mum thinks it was me.’
“I know’