Read Online Hell by Hilary Norman - Free Book Online Page A

said in the sitting room. ‘Any time I needed help with anything, or got sick or just blue, Andy was there for me – and to be honest, I think maybe his weaknesses made me even fonder of him.’ Her shrug was sorrowful. ‘I already told you he said I sometimes mothered him a little, but he liked it – maybe because his own mom wasn’t the easiest.’
    â€˜How much did he tell you about his family?’ Sam asked.
    â€˜Just that it hadn’t gone too well when he came out. His dad got mad, his mom was more embarrassed than anything, Andy thought. He said they were both relieved when he moved away.’
    â€˜His sister, Anne, is flying in today,’ Martinez told her.
    â€˜I know,’ Gail said. ‘She texted me first thing. I never met her, but I’m sure she must be broken up. It was important to Andy that she stayed in touch with him.’ She paused. ‘Do you think you could make sure she knows that? In case I don’t get to meet her.’
    â€˜I expect you will,’ Sam said.
    â€˜We’ll tell her though,’ Martinez said.
    Andrew Victor’s bedroom yielded no more of obvious interest than it had a week earlier, when its occupant had still been a missing person, not yet a victim of homicide.
    No love notes, no hidden cache of photographs, erotic or otherwise. No illegal drugs, no prescription medications of the kind that might have been subject to abuse. No threatening or even reproachful letters from lovers, current or past. Just the neatly kept room of a young man thought by his landlady and friend to be ‘the sweetest guy’.
    â€˜There’s nothing in his waste basket,’ Sam said to Gail. ‘Did you empty it?’
    She shook her head. ‘Andy must have before he went out.’
    The garbage collections long since gone.
    They looked harder, but failed to find a cellphone or address book. They removed the datebook they had previously glanced at, with its few names to try following up, but little else to help them; meetings that might or might not have been dates or even potential sexual encounters, but no helpful notes either anticipatory or reviewing. And only the last four months to scrutinize, last year’s diary not yet in evidence.
    â€˜Not a “Dear Diary” kind of a guy,’ Martinez commented.
    â€˜More’s the pity,’ Sam said.
    The chances were, of course, that even if they did turn up any of the men named on those pages, they would turn out to be irrelevant to the investigation, because the likelihood was that Andrew Victor had happened upon his killer on a street or on a beach or at a private party or at a nightclub – an encounter, wherever it had taken place, that would have given poor Andy no chance to log the person’s name in his datebook.
    They sat down again with Gail, went through each entry with her, but she had beaten them to the punch, had already compiled a list of names of her own.
    â€˜This is everyone I can remember Andy ever mentioning,’ she said, handing it over. ‘Though I’ve probably forgotten people – my brain’s turned to mush.’
    â€˜Hardly surprising.’ Sam looked at her list. ‘This is good.’
    She’d supplied more than names. Relationships with the deceased, as far as she knew, were printed beside each one, together with phone numbers and suggested possible addresses.
    â€˜This is more than good,’ he said after a moment.
    â€˜Except I can’t imagine that any of them could be of any use,’ Gail said sorrowfully. ‘I mean, how’s the guy who Andy said kept new releases for him at a DVD rental place going to help find his . . .?’
    She stopped, unable to bring herself to speak the word.
    They gave her a few moments.
    â€˜How about I make you a cup of tea?’ Martinez offered.
    She shook her head. ‘I’m OK.’
    â€˜Going back to the lifestyle risks you mentioned