Lastnight Read Online Free PDF Page B

depression and acceptance. But Nightingale knew the five stages didn’t always apply. Sometimes grief just hit you like a train and there were no stages to go through. There was just pain and loneliness and an empty black hole where the loved one had been. He held her and waited for her to stop crying. The tears would stop eventually, he knew, not because her sadness had gone, simply because her tear ducts would be empty.
    It was only when the baby began to cry that she moved away from Nightingale. She fussed over the baby, making shushing sounds as she groped for his bottle. The baby sucked greedily and she smiled down at him, her cheeks glistening wet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her eyes on her child, but the words were meant for him.
    ‘You’ve nothing to be sorry about,’ said Nightingale. His mouth had gone dry so he picked up his glass of water and sipped it.
    ‘What is it you need from me, Jack?’ she said. ‘I told the detectives everything I knew.’
    ‘I’m asking the same questions that you’ve been asking yourself,’ he said. ‘I want to know why anyone would want to hurt Gabe.’
    ‘Because they’re sick,’ she said. ‘There’s no logic to it.’
    ‘That’s what the police seem to think,’ said Nightingale. ‘Gabe was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
    ‘What’s the alternative?’ she said as she watched her baby feed. ‘Somebody hated him so much they’d do that to him?’ She shook her head. ‘Gabe would never hurt anybody. He was a kind soul.’ She looked up at Nightingale. ‘The police say it was a hate crime. They killed him because he was a Goth.’
    ‘Did he dress like a Goth at home?’
    She chuckled to herself. ‘He never dressed like a Goth, Jack. He was a Goth. It wasn’t a costume that he put on whenever it suited him. That’s what he wore. He never went out without make-up. Even if he was just popping down to the shops he’d make sure his mascara and lipstick was right. And he did his nails every few days, they always had to be perfect.’
    ‘But you’re not a Goth?’
    She looked down at her denim dress and smiled. ‘Not always,’ she said. ‘For me it was about dressing up. I’ve got black wigs and all the gear. But Gabe was a Goth twenty-four seven.’
    ‘They didn’t mind him dressing like that at the office?’
    ‘They were fine. They were good about his ink, too.’
    ‘His ink?’
    ‘His tattoos. Most of them were on his back but he had a few on his arms and a lot of places won’t hire you if you’ve got tattoos. But his firm were totally cool. They design video games so they’re all a bit … creative, I suppose you’d say. There’s a pool table and all sorts of games and stuff for them to play around with.’ She shrugged. ‘Gabe always said it was the only place he wanted to work.’
    ‘Had he always been a Goth? I mean, since you knew him?’
    She nodded and forced a smile. ‘We met at college. He was studying computer programming and even in the first year he wore make-up to classes and his hair was all spiky and he had these amazing boots with high heels.’
    ‘Did he have any problems at college?’
    ‘Haters, you mean?’ She shook her head. ‘Students are cool, mostly. Live and let live, right? Outside the college it was hit and miss. If he was in a pub then maybe someone would want to have their picture taken with him or they’d want to thump him.’
    ‘Did he get hit a lot?’
    She laughed and shook her head. ‘He was too smart for that. He had the knack of knowing who was trouble and who was just having a laugh. If he sensed trouble he’d either defuse it with a joke or he’d just move away. He never got into a fight, not all the time I knew him.’ She shrugged. ‘But then he was careful about where he went. If you’re a Goth there are places that you wouldn’t want to go at night. And other places where you’d have a great time.’ She ran a hand down her face. ‘That’s why I don’t understand what