Secrets - A Tense Conversation

We sit on the car park wall opposite Gordon's studio flat. The night air has a calming effect that leaves me exhausted, although perspiration continues to stream from my forehead and down my face, soaking my jumper and t-shirt. I take off my jacket, place it by my feet. Seeing this, Gordon gives a nervous laugh.
           
'Hey, peace man. No hard feelings. I hope you're not going to ask me to fight you.'

'No,' I say. 

'That's good 'cos I don't fight mates.'

Tiny stars dance before my eyes. I feel dizzy, as if my blood pressure's dropped suddenly. 'Was there someone else on Whaley Hill that day?'

'What are you trying to say?'
           
'I don't know really. Sometimes, I get these weird thoughts.'
           
'Like what?'
           
'I don't know,' I say. A fleeting impression of the Clearing at the bottom of Whaley Hill, of charging across the grass in the sun, into the path of a stranger; that's all it's ever been. The harder I think about it, the more ambiguous the impression becomes. 'Like someone hanging about that shouldn't have been there.'

'And you've never talked to the police?'

'It's not that simple.'
           
Gordon shakes his head. 'I was with Callum and Shane in the woods. We all left at the same time and none of us saw anything out of the ordinary. If we had, we would have told the police. It was definitely Vince Macarthur. The guy kept phoning my parents when he was drunk and making threats.' 
           
'What sort of threats?'

'Threats to get one of us. You must remember. It was ongoing.'

 'Did he ever communicate with you from prison? Was anyone else ever arrested for the crime?'

'Whoa, slow down, mate. Why do you think anyone else was arrested for the murder?'

'The police were looking at other options twenty-five years ago, apparently.'

'I've never heard that one. Are you sure you've got your facts right here?'

'Apparently, the police didn't think they could pursue the case against Vince Macarthur because the evidence wasn't strong enough.'

Gordon shakes his head slowly.  'Mate, this is all shit. Someone's winding you up.'

'I don't think so.'

'Course they are. Who was it?'

'I'd prefer not to say.'  Another uncomfortable pause.  I break it with, 'So Macarthur never contacted you from the prison?'

'No,' Gordon says, staring at the ground. 'By the way, I heard about what happened on the clearing at the bottom of the hill nine or ten years ago, and I'm really sorry about what he did, mate. Really sorry and gutted.'
           
'Yeah, thanks.'
           
'You were lucky to survive that. With the crowbar. It's serious. Shit, man.'
           
'Yeah. Some bloke was out with his Alsatian that day. Sidney Slater. He found me lying unconscious on the Clearing and legged it to the nearest house to call an ambulance. I would have died if he hadn't come.'
           
'I'm really, really sorry.' Gordon gets up and gives me a friendly slap on the back. 'Let's go back to the pub and drink a toast to Sidney Slater.'