Sean walked back through to the living area. ‘Looks like some party’ he remarked. The old lady didn’t smile.
Ben’s laptop was a fairly recent model and Sean had no trouble finding one of the same make and model. He then visited a supermarket next door where he found some dark trainers, flashlight and miniature screwdrivers.
In the car he unscrewed the panel covering the laptop’s hard drive. It was a fairly easy job to remove the drive which he placed in his rucksack together with the flashlight and screwdrivers.
After nightfall Sean pulled in about fifty yards from Ben’s apartment and waited. He was dressed in all dark clothing and wore the dark trainers he had bought earlier. On the seat next to him was a rucksack containing the hard drive and flashlight. He checked the movement of cars up and down the road, the presence of pedestrians, the sounds of the neighbourhood.
Satisfied it was clear he drove around the back and parked immediately underneath Ben’s first floor window. He put on some thin elastic gloves and pulled plastic shoe covers over the trainers. Taking the rucksack with him he climbed onto the bonnet, then the roof, standing above the door pillars to avoid denting the thin metal top. He found he could reach up and easily grab the lintel of the window on the first floor. He pulled himself up and slipped his arm into the still open window. He took a quick look around to check that there was no one about before undoing the handle of the larger casement window. He entered the room feet first. Glancing at his watch, he noticed that the whole manoeuvre had taken no more than 20 seconds.
Not bad for your age, he thought.
Before Sean moved any further he waited a full minute, partially to let his night vision adjust and partially to listen to the immediate surroundings. When he was satisfied he quietly closed the window and drew all the curtains before turning on a table lamp in the corner.
He headed straight for the smashed laptop lying by the wall. One large piece still contained part of the mother board and the hard drive. Sean carefully prised out the drive and noticed it had a small dent in it. He fixed the new one into the slot and placed the dented one in his rucksack.
The mess of paperwork lay on the floor, undisturbed since it had fallen. Getting down onto his knees he lifted each page carefully and inspected them. Replacing each in turn he ensured they kept their position in the pile.
He looked around the rest of the room, mentally dividing it up into sections, then he began a systematic search. In all probability if Ben had made notes anywhere they would be on his laptop. But he had to check. Forty minutes later he had searched the whole apartment and had found nothing of importance.
Before he left Sean went over to the phone where the red light was still blinking on the answer machine. He pressed the recall button, ready to turn down the volume if it was too high. There were two messages.
‘Ben, it’s Jack Langham from work. I heard you were looking into our archives and having some problems? I may be able to help. I can’t promise anything but if you want we could meet and discuss it and I’ll do my best to sort it out. Tell you what, I’m having a bite to eat on Friday with Frances. You’re welcome to join us — we’re going to the Olive Garden around eight in the evening. We’re going away the following day so if you miss us it will have to keep until we get back.’
There was a message from Natasha. She sounded hesitant and unsure.
‘Hi, Ben. I’ve only just got in. I got your message to say you were coming over. Did I miss you? Give me a call if you haven’t set off yet.’
Sean had one last look round before making his way out through the window.
‘Who is making the identification?’ The man behind the reception desk was friendly and efficient.
‘I am’ replied Natasha. She took a deep breath.
‘I will need to see some ID.’
Natasha put her driving licence on the counter and Sean followed with his passport. The man picked up each in turn, making notes on his computer.
‘OK’ he replied. ‘Don’t worry. I just need to ask a few questions and then we can go in.’ He turned back to the screen. ‘What is your relationship with the deceased?’
‘We were seeing each other’ replied Natasha.
‘How long have you known him?’
‘Ever since I started working for the company — say three years.’
The man then asked for her address and contact details, typing them up on the computer. Eventually he finished and asked them to wait for a colleague to show them the way. A young man in a white coat arrived shortly and walked with them towards the main lifts. They descended to the lower basement and followed him down a metallic grey corridor. They waited as he keyed in the combination to enter the mortuary. Before opening the door the young man turned.
‘I’ll take you through now. I know this can be very upsetting but if you need to go out in a hurry, just let me know.’ He continued ‘just take a look and confirm that this is the man you have come to identify.’
They stepped into a room which was several degrees below room temperature. Sean smelt the clinging odour of formaldehyde and disinfectant and saw rows of over-large filing cabinets set into the far wall. The young man spoke to a mortuary attendant briefly. The mortuary attendant went over to a cabinet on the second row, checked the number against the name on the sheet, then unlocked the drawer and pulled it out. The body was draped entirely in a white sheet and the attendant carefully rolled it back to uncover the head.
There was no doubt that this was Ben. Sean saw Natasha look away from the body and give a small inclination of the head.
Sean looked back down at his friend. Even though the face had been cleaned up the cuts and wounds from the accident were obvious. Natasha moved to leave and Sean followed her. A tearful Natasha stopped at reception to thank the man for his help.
Sean wondered about Ben’s things. ‘What happens to the personal effects?’
‘Well, they go to the next of kin’ the man replied.
‘Ben’s only remaining family are his parents. They live in Perthshire in Scotland.’ Sean thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to post them — neither of them is in the best of health.’
‘I see’, the man said thoughtfully. ‘We don’t often send effects to next of kin outside of the States.’
‘I’m going back to the UK in a fortnight. If you like I could take them with me’ Sean suggested.
‘Well, the post-mortem will be completed well before then. Once the police have finished with the effects I’ll see what we can do. I’ll need you to fill out a form and take a form for the parents to sign and post back to say they have received the effects.’
‘Thanks’ said Sean. ‘I appreciate it and I think they will too.’
They made their way out to the car. ‘How long have you known Ben’s parents?’ asked Natasha quietly.
‘I met them once, a long time ago now’ Sean told her as they drove out of the car park. ‘Ben invited me up to the highlands in Scotland to go hunting for deer.’
He caught the expression on her face and smiled. ‘No, I don’t mean hunting with a rifle — at that time Ben was a keen photographer. He had a new camera and wanted to capture a stag,’ Sean recalled. ‘Unfortunately he never got to take the picture. We set off at dawn, climbed several hills and lay waiting for hours in the heather. We never saw a deer — at least not one close enough to shoot. On the way back we blundered into a quagmire — black stuff up to our waists!’