One of Us Is Dead

76 Saturday 15 October 2022

‘He’s dangerous,’ Debbie said, suddenly, keeping her voice low although there was no one either side of them. ‘Really dangerous. As I said to you at lunch.’

‘About having something of the night about him?’ Taylor replied.

‘Exactly. And now after seeing your fisherman — John Baker — you’re even less certain that Rufus is dead, right?’

They were lying on their sun loungers, beneath a large pink umbrella. She was drinking sparkling water and had a Linwood Barclay paperback on the table beside her. Taylor was sipping an espresso and flicking through Flight International magazine. He glanced at his watch. It was 11 a.m. here in Barbados, 4 p.m. in England. The whole glorious day stretched out ahead, and they had some of tomorrow, too, before flying back in the evening.

‘Right. The more I think back to our schooldays, the more I realize just what a dark side he had. Maybe I didn’t see it as dangerous then. But he did nasty pranks, ones in which people got hurt.’

‘Such as what?’

‘I guess the one I remember clearest is when we were only about twelve or thirteen, there was a bully a lot older than us called Terry Hawkins. He used to steal sweets and food from smaller boys — and girls — literally just snatch them out of their hands and then eat them in front of them, gloating. So one day Rufus decided to get even by pulling a chair out from under him as he was sitting down. Hawkins almost had to go to hospital with the injuries.’ He shrugged. ‘Another time he put a small ants’ nest in Hawkins’ bed. That kind of thing.’

‘You could argue Hawkins deserved it.’

‘You could. But Rufus did stuff when people didn’t deserve it too.’

‘He must have got found out — didn’t he get expelled?’

‘He was always adamant it wasn’t him doing it. He was a very convincing liar and good at passing the blame onto someone else.’

A jet-ski rasped across the bay, just beyond the swimming marker buoys. Over to their left, Taylor saw a couple sitting on the anchored raft a couple of hundred yards out from the shore.

‘I’m worried about you,’ she said. ‘We’ve just found each other — I don’t want anything to happen to you.’

He looked at her and raised his sunglasses for a moment. ‘Thank you.’ He smiled tenderly. ‘But I’m a big boy.’

‘Rufus is even bigger. You are kind, he’s nasty.’

‘You really do think Rufus might have killed Barnie, don’t you?’ he said.

‘What do you think, James?’

‘If — and it’s getting a smaller if by the day — Rufus is really still alive, then I can see his motive.’

‘Someone murdered Barnie — someone who had a reason to. He was trying to blackmail an old schoolfriend who he said had faked his disappearance. That has to be Rufus. You reckon you saw him at Barnie’s funeral, and now you’ve met the fisherman who allegedly pulled his half-eaten jacket out of the sea — and you didn’t believe his story. So it kind of fits rather too well, don’t you think?’

‘It looks that way.’ He finished his coffee and put the small cup down.

‘What is your interest, James — why do you want to know about Rorke? Is it just curiosity — or something more I should know?’

He smiled. ‘Wouldn’t you be curious in my position? I deliver the eulogy at an old school friend’s funeral and two years later I see him.’

‘Or think you see him?’

‘No, now I’m convinced I saw him. Then you tell me about Barnie trying to blackmail an old friend who faked his disappearance and suddenly I get a lot more intrigued.’

‘And this fisherman here, John Baker, has added to the mystery.’

‘He has.’

She sipped some water. ‘Have you told anyone your suspicions? Anyone, James, anyone at all?’

‘You sound really worried.’

‘I am. I’m very worried — for you.’

He shook his head. ‘I guess the only person other than you that I’ve told is Rufus’s widow — or supposed widow, Fiona.’

‘She told you she was on the yacht when he went overboard, right?’

‘But she never saw him go overboard, she said it was a member of the crew who did.’

‘That person could have been lying.’

He nodded.

She was silent for a moment. A water-ski boat’s engines roared as it powered forward, pulling a skier up and onto the surface of the water. ‘OK, if you can get enough evidence to be as certain as you can that Rufus Rorke is still alive, what are you going to do with it?’

‘Maybe try to meet with him, ask him what the hell he’s doing.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, if Rufus did kill Barnie, I want to help the police track him down and get justice for him.’

‘There’s something I haven’t yet told you about Rufus,’ she said. ‘Barnie was friends with a guy who worked for — well, not exactly for Sussex Police, but the Crown Prosecution Service, who make all the decisions about prosecutions. Barnie told me — this was probably the last time I saw him — that his friend had said that just before he disappeared, Rufus Rorke was on the verge of being arrested for murder.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. And they believed it wasn’t just one murder he was responsible for — the police thought there were others.’

Some of the heat seemed to have gone out of the morning sun. He looked at her hard. ‘You mean like a serial killer?’

‘I don’t know exactly, but yes, something like that. That’s why I’m worried about you digging too deep. If you do locate Rorke, don’t go and see him, don’t let him know. I suspect he didn’t just kill Barnie because he was blackmailing him, but it was more because he had recognized him. That’s what makes it so dangerous for you. Why do you think he didn’t just pay Barnie off?’

‘Because he couldn’t be sure Barnie wouldn’t either come back for more money at some point, or worse, blab to someone?’

‘Exactly, James. Blab to someone. He couldn’t risk Barnie telling someone. So what makes you think he would take a risk on you?’