The Night Caller: An utterly gripping crime thriller

by J. M. Hewitt

  * * *

  Emma’s phone shrilled out and she snatched it up, frowning as Jade’s name flashed on the screen. Why was Jade calling her mobile?

  ‘Jade?’

  ‘Can you come round?’ Jade said in lieu of a greeting. ‘Martin is here, there’s someone you need to see.’

  Emma ended the call and stood up, groping around the sofa for the sweater she had discarded earlier. Dread swamped her. Why was Martin next door? Who else was there that Emma needed to see – the police? Had they found Jordan, had they called Martin and Jade to be there as support for Emma?

  ‘Oh God,’ she cried, wrestling with her jumper, flinging it aside when she failed to find the holes to put her head and arms through.

  Snatching a jacket off the peg she threw it on as she ran to Jade’s, pushed at the door which opened under her palms. ‘Jade?’ she cried, as she paused in the little hallway that was a mirror image of her own. Hearing muffled voices, she stopped outside the lounge. The door opened, Jade stepped back. With legs that barely worked Emma shuffled into the room.

  ‘This is Lee, he’s a… friend of Jordan’s,’ said Jade softly.

  She took a step forward and stopped again. It wasn’t a police officer, it wasn’t Carrie Flynn or her sidekick, Paul Harper. It was a man, a boy, really. A murmur of relief hummed from her slack mouth as she edged towards the newcomer.

  How long had it been since she had met a friend of Jordan’s? Years, she realised.

  The boy regarded her in return, looking over at her with dark, wide eyes that pooled with a certain innocent quality. There was something else too, something that twisted in her mind, another memory, a recent one.

  ‘I know you!’ she blurted, moving a couple more steps closer to the table where he still sat, frozen now, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘You were by the canal, the other night, I actually thought, for a minute I thought you were… him.’

  Her heart thrust against her chest, she put a hand on her breast as she looked at him. A link to the boy she had lost.

  A hushed silence fell. Only Martin moved, looking at the young man now with a different expression.

  A chair scraped, Lee was on his feet, Emma saw, coming towards her, and the closer he got, the more she realised that no, he didn’t look like Jordan, although they shared the same dark hair and slightly darker skin. He was actually nothing like her son, but he was a friend of his.

  Without even realising it she opened her arms and he fell into them without hesitation. She put her hands on his back, rubbed his shoulder blades. She closed her eyes, breathing in the clean scent of this young man. Oh, how she missed holding her son like this. It had been years, years and years and years…

  ‘I’m sorry I knocked you over. I wanted to speak to you, that night by the water,’ she whispered, still clinging on to him, but holding him now at arm’s length so she could study his face. ‘But why are you here, at Jade’s?’ She spoke gently, her eyes travelling down his body, lingering on his skinny frame, an urge to protect him almost overcoming her. A mother’s instinct.

  ‘I met Jade, I was looking at all the flowers outside,’ Lee said. ‘I had lots of photos of Jordan, I was showing—’

  ‘Photos?’ Emma interrupted him. ‘Are they still here? I’d love to see them.’

  ‘Lee, why don’t you go into the kitchen and set them up again on your laptop?’ Martin spoke for the first time. He smiled, but Emma noticed it didn’t reach his eyes.

  With a last look at her and a weak smile, Lee nodded and moved past Jade into the kitchen.

  Emma took a deep breath, sidled over to where Jade and Martin stood.

  ‘What’s going on? Why are you here?’ She directed this to Martin.

  ‘Just… just listen to what he has to say, tell us if you think…’ He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair. Suddenly he looked exhausted. ‘Just keep an open mind.’

  Emma noticed Jade’s stare: a hidden meaning, a warning she was sending? But about which one, Martin or Lee? Before she could question further, the kitchen door opened again, and Lee beckoned them in.

  * * *

  They took their chairs, awaiting the production, with Lee setting it up with an almost theatrical air. Emma flicked her gaze between Jade and Martin, knowing something unspoken was happening, confused as to what it was.

  She tried to catch Jade’s eye as she sat next to her at the little table, Jade remained still, her gaze focused on the table top.

  ‘These were for my degree, I’m doing a BA in photography,’ said Lee as he loaded up the computer.

  ‘Salford University?’ Emma asked. ‘The same one as Jordan?’

  He shook his head. ‘Manchester Metropolitan,’ he replied, and she heard the unmistakable hint of pride in his voice.

  ‘Jordan did business studies,’ she said. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and she pulled her jacket closed around her. ‘But of course, you already know that.’

  He smiled at her, a gentle smile, and she looked away. She wanted to hug him again, her boy’s friend.

  ‘You probably know him better than me,’ she said, and her words were aimed more at herself than at Lee.

  ‘Jordan was an excellent model, he could have got signed, I’m sure. He had the right height, stature, physique, the look,’ Lee said. ‘He was my muse.’

  He clicked the mouse to start the show, and Emma leaned forward, expectant.

  For half an hour she watched, mesmerised, forgetting Martin’s strange attitude of earlier, forgetting Jade’s quietness. When it ended, she kept her eyes fixed on the screen. With no prompting, Lee set it to play again. She pulled her gaze away for a moment, watched as Martin left the table and stood at the sink, motionless, staring down into the dark garden.

  ‘These are so good,’ she said, looking back at the photos. ‘You’ve got a real skill, Lee. Hasn’t he, Jade?’

  Jade nodded weakly.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lee flush again. He cleared his throat.

  ‘It was easy, Jordan was very easy to shoot. A natural, really.’

  ‘I could never get him to look like this when I tried to photograph him,’ Emma said, and she turned to Lee. ‘You and he must have been very good friends.’

  She caught the look that Lee shot at Martin. Martin raised his eyebrows, stared back at Lee, a challenging look on his face. Lee’s nostrils flared, ever so slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then clamped it shut.

  Emma frowned. ‘Lee?’ she said, touching his hand.

  He looked at Martin again. ‘I thought you would have told her, when I was setting this up,’ said Lee, his voice cold.

  Emma swung around to face Martin. ‘Told me what?’ she asked, with a half-laugh.

  Martin heaved a sigh, looked off out of the window. Emma glanced at Jade who looked away.

  Emma took his hand this time, held it gently. ‘Lee?’ she asked, again.

  He looked at her, and he was defensive now, she saw with surprise.

  ‘Jordan wasn’t just my friend,’ he said, and he pushed his chin out as he held her gaze firmly. ‘He was my boyfriend, we’d been together for over a year.’

  * * *

  Jade expected drama, hysterics, a meltdown from Emma. These secrets that had been Jordan’s life, cast out to become public knowledge. And Emma had known nothing. Unconsciously Jade shrank into her chair, her heart thumping, fighting against the urge to close her eyes and wait until it was all over.

  But Emma didn’t move. Eventually, after long moments of silence Emma barked out a laugh, but it was hesitant, as though it was a joke and she didn’t quite get the punch line. She looked at Martin. He shrugged. She turned to Jade. To her own shame Jade averted her eyes.

  ‘It’s what he told me, too,’ Martin said.

  Lee inhaled sharply. ‘You say that like you don’t believe me,’ he cried. ‘Why would I say something like that? Why would I make our relationship out to be more than it was?’

 
Martin opened his mouth to speak, but Emma leaned forward, blocking his view of Lee.

  ‘He can’t have been. I mean, the night he went missing, I told him about the Pusher, how he was targeting gay men.’ She stopped, appearing deep in thought. ‘He said… he said some stuff, he used bad words, offensive words, words that a gay man would never…’ She trailed off, biting her lip.

  ‘He put on a good act, where his sexuality was concerned,’ said Lee and he pushed on, clearly irritated. ‘He put on a good act all round. Made out he had loads of mates. In truth, that was a lie. His “mates”,’ he raised his hands, bent his fingers to signal inverted commas, ‘his mates thought they were all really close with him, in truth they knew nothing about him. It was all surface friendship. It was barely even that. All those cards and flowers left for him, they were put there by people who really didn’t know him at all.’

  Emma fell back in her chair, dragged her ragged nails across her mouth. ‘I… we, found out something about Jordan.’ She looked desperately at Jade before swivelling her eyes to look sideways on at Martin.

  Jade went cold. Emma hadn’t yet told Martin about the mysterious Father’s Day card. Martin had no idea that as well as only just finding out he had a son, he was about to discover that he was also a grandfather.

  She shoved her chair back and stood up. Nobody but her winced as the chair legs scraped along the floor. ‘Coffee, anyone?’ she asked. Desperation to escape and avoid a scene gave her voice an edge.

  Nobody answered her.

  ‘What did you find out?’ Martin said to Emma.

  ‘Carrie – the detective – found this, in Jordan’s bedroom.’ Emma reached into her bag, pulled out her phone and brought up the picture of the card. Lee reached for it first. ‘It’s a Father’s Day card. Jordan got someone pregnant. His baby is out there, somewhere.’

  Oh God, Jade thought. Oh God, oh God. And even though Lee held the phone, it was Martin that Jade couldn’t take her eyes off.

  Martin’s hand danced along the table top as though he was going to snatch the phone from Lee. At the last second, he pulled back, drummed his fingers on the table. His lips moved, formed shapes as though he was talking, shouting, but no sound emerged. Finally, he found his voice.

  ‘Did you know about this, is it what you fought about? And where were you, that night, the night Jordan went missing?’ Martin’s tone was high pitched, loud. Martin glared at Lee, his eyes thin, glinting strips of onyx.

  Emma swivelled to face Lee. ‘You had a fight with Jordan?’

  ‘No!’ Lee shook his head emphatically. ‘I never knew any of this. And I was at my parent’s anniversary dinner, at our home the night Jordan went missing. Our guests didn’t leave until after 2 a.m.’

  ‘The police will want to check it out, where you were,’ replied Martin.

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Emma. ‘Martin! Surely you’re not suggesting Lee was involved in what happened to Jordan?’

  Her tone was incredulous, and Jade switched her gaze to Emma now. Jade’s surprise matched Martin’s. After all, Emma had suspected – still suspected – Martin. Why was it so different with Lee? She flicked her eyes over Lee, saw the slender young man. Was it because he seemed so non-threatening next to Martin’s stature that loomed over everyone?

  They seemed to have forgotten Jade was even there. And that was fine by her. She shrank in her chair, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.

  * * *

  Emma dismissed Martin with a cold stare. She turned back to Lee and said, ‘Did you know Jordan to have any girlfriends? I mean, before you met him, did he ever mention anything like that?’

  ‘No. I was his first.’ Lee answered firmly and without hesitation. ‘I was his first boyfriend and he said he’d never had a girlfriend before, either.’

  ‘You’re “L”,’ she said. ‘You left a card, you said you loved him.’ Emma passed a hand across her eyes. ‘I thought he had a secret girlfriend.’

  ‘He didn’t have a girlfriend,’ repeated Lee.

  Emma shot a look at Martin, a plea for help, to step in, to step up. Help me, she wanted to shout at him. But what right did she have? She had denied him knowledge of Jordan for all these years, why should he assist her now?

  Martin sighed. ‘He was a good-looking boy,’ he admitted. ‘I’m sure he was popular with the girls. Maybe… maybe the mother of this child wasn’t a girlfriend. Perhaps it was just a one night stand.’

  Emma stood up, faced Martin, suddenly angry, and it was directed at him. ‘He wasn’t like that!’ she said, her voice bordering on a shout. ‘He knew how to treat women, he was the product of a single mother, he saw how hard it was, he’d never do that.’ She looked at Jade, her eyes boring into her, waiting for a response, waiting for Jade to leap to Jordan’s defence.

  Jade nodded weakly. Emma glared at her, wanting more, but it seemed the girl had nothing more to give.

  ‘I’m just going to check on Nia,’ she said quietly, grateful for an excuse to leave the room.

  ‘Right,’ said Emma. ‘We’re going to the police, we’re going to tell them all of this. The men who have been pushed into the canal, all the ones who have been in the news, they were gay, weren’t they? The Pusher, he’s a homophobe, all his victims have been gay men, it was Jordan who said that when I showed him the newspaper I’d been reading. I mentioned the Pusher to the detectives, but I told them that Jordan wasn’t gay, that everyone knows that murdering bastard was targeting gay men.’ She looked at Lee and Martin. ‘We need to tell the police.’

  Martin pursed his lips, his head moved a little; was that a nod of agreement? She looked back to Lee, a feeling of warmth growing as she surveyed his face. She couldn’t believe – in spite of Martin’s words – that this kid had anything to do with Jordan’s disappearance. Was that it, was Martin trying to push Lee in the firing line to divert attention away from himself?

  ‘Lee, are you all right with this? If we speak to the police officers in charge of Jordan’s case, will you tell them about him, and you? Would it make it awkward, or anything?’

  He glared at her. ‘You make it sound like we have something to be ashamed about. There’s nothing wrong with it, you wouldn’t be saying that if I were his girlfriend sitting here right now.’

  At his sharp tone, Emma took a deep, steadying breath. The sudden change in him from sweetness to anger was disconcerting.

  ‘I’m going, then.’ She stood up, looked at both of them in turn, challenge in her eyes. ‘Are either of you coming?’

  Twenty-Eight

  THE PUSHER

  I follow her at a distance, not moving too close, not staying too far away. Just near enough to observe.

  She did a quick sweep of the water near the tram station outside the Matchstick Man, and then abruptly she switched direction, headed away from the quays. Her search was nowhere near as thorough as it was a week ago, when she covered every inch of water, when she moved like a machine. Now something else has taken over her. Now she looks different. Sometimes she looks lost. Sometimes she looks determined.

  While I follow her, I think about the last week. It has been interesting observing her, and those around her. I picture her in her home, curled in a ball with the phone clamped to her ear, listening to platitudes from her friends and the police but getting no sense of comfort from their inane words.

  Jade, the neighbour, the best friend, the surrogate daughter, has stepped up to the mark more than I expected. She is so nervous, so unsure in everything that she does. Jade is beautiful, and by looking at her you would think she is filled with confidence. But she is not. She stumbles along, worrying about the past, the present, the future.

  My plans have gone awry. The death of Jordan Robinson was supposed to be the final death. But the want, the need, to gaze into the lives of those left behind after the event is too great. And his death wasn’t even the last death, because I couldn’t help myself.

  Because I have less control than I thought.r />
  I keep in step and I follow them all the way to the police station.

  Twenty-Nine

  DAY SEVEN

  ‘Mummy, this is for Mrs…Ohmmm.’

  Jade, lost in thoughts of what Emma, Martin and Lee were telling the police, only heard Nia after the second or third time she had spoken. She pulled herself back to the present, stared into her daughter’s eyes and with a rush of love she pulled Nia onto her lap.

  ‘What is it, sweetie? Who is it for?’

  Nia struggled against her until Jade had no choice but to lower her to the floor.

  ‘For Mrs Ohmmm, a drawing, I want to take it to her.’

  Realisation dawned and Jade smothered a smile. ‘You mean Mrs Oberman? Can you say it? O-ber-man.’

  ‘O… ber…man,’ intoned Nia, solemnly. ‘Can we take it to her house, now?’

  Jade drifted to the window, looked outside. Across the road she was sure that she saw the burnished red and grey of Mrs Oberman’s hair before the net curtain fell back in place.

  Jade wanted to get out of the house. She didn’t have the money to take Nia to one of the indoor soft play areas, and it was too cold to go and sit in a playground. She looked up, saw the sky was a deep, dark grey. It seemed like the forecast of snow might be right.

  In the meantime, while they were waiting for the wintry weather, she decided that she would walk Nia to Mrs Oberman’s, allow her to give the drawing to the woman. It could be a thank you, for Mrs O kindly looking after Nia the other day.

  ‘Come on then, coat on,’ she said.