Killing For Company by Brian Masters

Author:Brian Masters [Masters, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Paul Nobbs

On 23 November 1981, Paul Nobbs, a nineteen-year-old student of Slavonic and East European Studies at the University of London, decided to miss his lecture and go instead to buy some books at Foyles. First, he thought he would have a drink at the Golden Lion in Dean Street, where he arrived about 1.30 p.m. He fell into conversation with a man who introduced himself as Des Nilsen and they chatted for about an hour. ‘He wasn’t the kind of run-of-the-mill Golden Lion type and seemed very intelligent,’ said Nobbs. They left the pub together and spent about fifteen minutes in Foyles, when Nilsen suggested Nobbs should accompany him to his flat in Muswell Hill for something to eat. Nobbs agreed. The date was seven weeks after Nilsen’s move into 23 Cranley Gardens, and a few weeks before the happy encounter with Kevin Sylvester. It was also, incidentally, Nilsen’s thirty-sixth birthday.

They stopped at Sainsbury’s on the way home and bought some chops, some rum and some Coca-Colas, and arrived at the flat in time for the television news at 5.45 p.m. They spent the evening, after Nilsen had cooked a meal, drinking and watching ‘Panorama’, at which point Nobbs telephoned his mother in Watford and said he would be home soon. Later, he felt rather ill as a result of the Bacardi, and called again to say that he would not come home after all, but would stay with friends. The two men undressed and got into bed; some tentative sexual activity took place, but they were both too tired to bring it to a conclusion. They fell asleep.

At two in the morning, Paul Nobbs woke up with a throbbing headache and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. He sat on the sofa for about ten minutes, trying to contain the raging pain in his head and feeling nauseous. He had no idea why. Nilsen stood by the door. Eventually, they both went back to bed, and Nobbs fell asleep within five minutes.

At 6 a.m. he woke again, turned on the light and saw himself in the mirror above the kitchen sink. There was a deep red mark around his neck and across his throat, his face was red, bruised and sore, and the whites of his eyes had turned completely red. His throat felt sore and he was shaking. Nilsen got up and told him, ‘God, you look awful,’ and advised him to see a doctor. Before he left, Nilsen gave him his address and telephone number, with the information that he could find him by taking the underground to Highgate or a Number 134 bus. He hoped they might meet again.

Nobbs staggered down the street, barely able to keep his balance. He went to Malet Street and met his Polish language tutor who immediately arranged for him to be seen at the clinic of University College Hospital in Gower Street, just a walk from the building. Another student, Christopher George, accompanied Nobbs, who was

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