Need You Dead

38 Friday 22 April

Roy Grace, accompanying Bruno, limped across the short-term airport car park. It was just gone 8 p.m. His right leg was in agony after his cramped seat on the flight. Despite his coaxing, the boy had eaten nothing during the journey, although he had at least drunk a small Coke on the plane. Bruno had his rucksack on his back and Grace carried his son’s two suitcases as well as his own overnight bag. They had with them all his worldly belongings, except for his drum kit, which had been sent on by road and should arrive early next week.

So far nearly all his efforts to engage Bruno in conversation had failed. He seemed very distressed and had spent almost the entire journey concentrating on a game on his phone. Grace had asked him about school, about what sports other than football he liked, what were his favourite foods, what he liked to watch on television, what computer games he liked to play. To every question the only responses had been short and distracted.

As they approached his black Alfa, and he pressed the key fob, unlocking it and making its tail lights flash, he saw a sudden flicker of interest in Bruno’s face.

‘Do you like cars?’ Grace asked, hoping the idea of a ride to his new home in a sports car might cheer the boy up.

‘My mother had a Porsche Cayman Carrera. Its top speed was two hundred and ninety-two kilometres per hour. How fast does this go?’

‘Fast, but not that fast.’

‘How fast?’

‘I’m not sure of its top speed. We’re restricted in England to seventy miles per hour — that’s about one hundred and twelve kilometres.’

‘In Germany we have no speed limits on the autobahns.’

‘Yup, I know.’ Roy Grace opened the boot and hefted the cases in. ‘Fun, eh?’

‘Ja.’

Bruno walked round to the driver’s door and opened it.

‘You going to drive?’ Grace asked him.

‘Your wheel’s on the wrong side,’ Bruno said.

‘That’s the side we drive on here.’

‘Why do you drive on the wrong side?’

‘Well, about a quarter of the world drives on this side — on the left.’

‘Why do they do that? What happens if they meet on a bridge between two countries? One driving on the right and one on the left? There could be a big accident!’

‘I don’t think there are any places where they drive on opposite sides where they could just go over a bridge, Bruno.’

‘But it’s so stupid. Why doesn’t everyone drive on the same side as we do?’

‘It goes back a long time in history — to the days before cars when there were just horses. Most people are right-handed, so people rode on the left and had their swords on the right so that they could draw them and fight off any highway robbers.’

‘Are we going to be attacked by highway robbers now?’

‘Hopefully not!’ Grace grinned. ‘If we are, I’ll rely on you to protect us. OK?’

‘Ja, sure!’ Bruno grinned back.

He opened the passenger door for his son. Bruno climbed in. Grace reached across to help him with the seat belt and Bruno brushed away his hand, dismissively. ‘I know how to put on a seat belt. So why does not everyone drive on the left in every country?’

‘I think it has something to do with the Americans — from the days of the stage coach drivers.’

‘So they didn’t have highway robbers in America?’

He smiled. ‘Maybe not.’

Bruno pulled out his iPhone and began tapping the keypad. Grace saw he was on Snapchat. He made a note in his mind to get him a British phone, or at least a UK SIM card.

‘When will my drums arrive?’ Bruno asked, suddenly.

‘They’re on their way — they’ll be with us in a few days,’ Grace said. ‘I’m sure we can make space for them in your new room.’

Anette Lippert had previously told Roy about Bruno’s passion for drums, and he and Cleo had been worried about what they were going to do to accommodate a full acoustic drum kit — and the effect the noise might have on them, let alone little Noah. But then Anette had reassured him that soft pads and earphones made the noise minimal.

He remembered she had also mentioned the memory box that Bruno had started making with mementoes of his mother.

‘You have your memory box with you, Bruno?’

‘Yes,’ he said, quietly.

‘Do you have a favourite photograph you’d like us to get framed to have in your room?’

‘Maybe.’

They drove out through the ticket barrier in silence. Grace thought about the phone update Guy Batchelor had given him as soon as they had landed. Everything seemed to be stacking up nicely against Corin Belling. The case could be closed by early next week. Apart from the hours of questioning that lay ahead for him about Belling’s death. But he was confident he could answer, satisfactorily, any of the criticism he knew would be levelled at him. Especially if the DNA on the semen came back positive.

He turned his focus back to his newly found son, who was now on Instagram on his phone. ‘Have you ever lived in the countryside, Bruno?’

He shook his head.

‘We have a dog called Humphrey, he’s a little bit mad. Do you like dogs?’

‘Erik had a dog, a schnauzer. It was called Adini.’

‘Schnauzers are lovely. They’re one of Cleo’s favourite dogs.’

‘He doesn’t have it any more,’ he said, flatly.

Grace glanced at him. ‘I’m sorry. How old was it?’

‘Two years.’

‘Two? What happened?’

‘It disappeared.’

‘Ran off?’

‘It disappeared.’

‘That’s sad. Was he very upset?’

‘Very. The Lipperts looked for her everywhere. They posted on Twitter and Facebook.’

‘But never found her again?’

‘No.’

‘How long ago was that?’

He shrugged. ‘A few weeks.’

‘Maybe she’ll turn up.’

‘No, I don’t think she will turn up.’

‘I’m very sorry.’

‘She bit me.’

‘The schnauzer bit you?’

‘On my hand. I don’t think she was such a nice dog.’

‘You’ll like Humphrey, he’s crazy and loves everyone. We also have twelve chickens.’

‘Why?’

‘We like to have our own eggs.’

‘Can’t you buy eggs in England?’

Grace grinned. ‘Yes, in lots of places. But we like to eat our own eggs, we know what the hens have been fed on, and that there aren’t any chemicals in the eggs.’

Bruno fell silent for several minutes. Then, suddenly, he asked, ‘Why did my mother do it? Why did she die? Why did she?’

Grace thought carefully, as he drove, before answering. ‘I don’t know, Bruno, that’s the honest truth. There is so much I don’t know about your mother and your life with her. But I did love her very much and I do know that she loved you very deeply.’

‘Do you think she was ashamed of me?’

‘Hey!’ He put a hand on his son’s shoulder, but felt him stiffen beneath the touch. He put it back on the steering wheel. ‘Don’t ever think that.’

‘What should I think?’

The rush-hour traffic had thinned out, and the motorway was quiet. They’d be home in around an hour. He’d known, all along, before flying to Germany, from everything that Anette Lippert had told him, that it was not going to be easy for this boy to adapt to an entirely new life. But he felt that they had started to bond.

How did he reply? What had Sandy told him about her past? What did Bruno, who was clearly highly perceptive, know about his mother? Had she ever told him the truth about why she had disappeared when she knew she was pregnant? Become for a short while a Scientologist? Then joined another sect and bigamously married its wealthy leader? Divorced him before he later died in a car accident? Then became a heroin addict? Got cleaned up and went into therapy? Hit by a taxi crossing a Munich street, leaving her crippled and permanently disfigured?

What a disastrous waste of a life Sandy had led since leaving him. Just what did Bruno know, what would he be prepared to talk about — and how much had her erratic existence affected him? Maybe he would know all of it in the fullness of time, but not now. Glancing at him, he said, ‘Right now, Bruno, I don’t have answers. What I can promise you is that my wife, Cleo, and I will love and take care of you, and do everything we can for you. Cleo is not a replacement for your mother and never can be, but we will love you every bit as much as we love Noah. Noah’s too young at the moment to understand what has happened, but I’m sure you will be an amazing big brother and role model to him as he grows older.’

Bruno did not respond.

‘Oh, and Cleo loves fast cars — she has an Audi TT.’

‘Will I have any friends?’

‘The son of a friend of mine — his name is Stan Tingley — is looking forward to meeting you. He’s a really nice boy. And when you go to school there’ll be loads of other kids your age. I’m sure you’ll be making a lot of friends, very quickly.’

‘Can Erik come and stay?’

‘We can invite Erik over to stay once you are settled in. Absolutely.’

‘What football team does Stan — support?’

‘Crystal Palace.’

‘I think Crystal Palace do not like the Brighton Albion team, the Seagulls.’

‘You know your football teams!’

‘Kayla the Eagle is the Crystal Palace symbol. The eagle is on my country’s flag. It is our national emblem of Germany.’

‘OK, so, what does that mean to you?’

He shrugged. ‘Nothing. It is not my country any more.’

Grace took that as a positive.