TWENTY-SEVEN

When they returned to Barnholt, Toby went up to his bedroom and Bill scurried off to his study.

Toby had just flopped on to the bed, when there was a knock at the door. It was Megan. ‘Want to grab some lunch?’

‘Sure. There’s got to be some cold turkey left.’

‘I was thinking of going out. To the King Willie. I need to get away from this house.’

‘Won’t it still be cordoned off?’

‘It might be. If it is, we can go to Thurstead. There’s a good pub there, I think.’

‘All right.’ Toby pulled himself off the bed. ‘Shall we ask your dad?’

‘Let’s not ask my dad. With everything that’s going on, I bet he’s doing his needlepoint in his study. We wouldn’t want to disturb that.’

It had just started to rain, but the walk was only five minutes. The King William was now open, although there was a police car stationed at the entrance to the car park, an officer sheltering inside. Toby nodded to him as they entered the pub.

The pub was virtually empty, just two couples in their sixties eating lunch, and a man in painters’ overalls refreshing himself with a quick pint. A fire crackled in a large brick fireplace, its sweet smell tempering the sour odour of stale beer.

Toby ordered two pints of Wherry, a ploughman’s for him and a scampi and chips for Megan, from a middle-aged woman with bright-yellow hair in a ponytail. A disconcertingly large wart drooped from a sagging cheek.

‘When did the police let you open?’ Megan asked.

‘Just half an hour ago,’ said the woman. She glanced around the empty bar. ‘We should have more people here on a Saturday lunchtime.’

‘Do you think the murder will put them off?’ Megan asked.

‘I don’t know.’ The woman looked guilty. ‘But it’s not the kind of thing I should worry about, at least not yet. That poor man!’

‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ said Megan. ‘He was visiting us. He stayed for Thanksgiving dinner, just before he died.’

‘And I saw him when he got back here,’ said the woman. ‘He was full of good cheer. He told me he enjoyed your dinner.’

Her warm smile turned into a frown. She fingered the wart on her cheek.

‘Yes,’ said Megan. ‘It’s my sister who they’ve arrested. But they’ve got the wrong person. Alice didn’t kill him.’

The landlady took a moment to decide how to respond. ‘Oh, I do hope not,’ she said. ‘She looked like such a nice young lady. She came to visit Mr Bowen that evening. It was almost closing time – they had a quick drink and then they both went up to his room.’

‘How long was she with him?’ Megan asked.

‘Oh I don’t know. I didn’t see her come down. Or him, as a matter of fact. I found him in the morning when I brought him his coffee. He was collapsed by the side of the bed, still wearing his clothes. At first I thought he’d had a heart attack or something, although he seemed a bit young for that. Then I saw the blood.’ She shuddered. ‘Dreadful. Was your sister his girlfriend? The police didn’t say.’

‘She wasn’t,’ Megan said. ‘This is Alice’s husband.’

Toby smiled at the landlady stiffly.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to imply—’

‘Of course not,’ Toby said. ‘Thursday was the first time they had met.’

‘That will be twenty-two forty,’ said the woman, shutting down the conversation.

Megan chose a table with a view of the green. An old red telephone box stood a respectful distance from the much older cross. It no longer housed a payphone, but a defibrillator. A nice idea but, as the landlady had discovered, there were some sudden attacks for which it was no help.

‘It kind of feels like the family is falling apart,’ Megan said. ‘Alice locked up. Brooke and Maya running away. Mom’s gone. And Dad seems so fricking evasive. It feels like me and you are the only ones who still care. Which, given my track record, is downright weird.’

‘Your track record?’

Megan shrugged. ‘I was always the naughty one of the four of us. And I lost it when Mom died. Made some poor life choices. Dropped out of college and ran off with a guy who made a living spreading malware on the Internet. I wound up my dad at every opportunity, and Alice – like the time I skipped your wedding at the last minute. And probably the reason I’m quitting my job and doing this waitress thing in New York is to piss them off. I’m surprised they put up with me. Alice must have told you?’

‘She did say you were difficult,’ Toby admitted. ‘Although I’m not sure that’s the way you seem to me.’

Megan flashed him a quick smile. ‘Oh, I am. She was right. I used to take all the stuff she did for us all for granted. But now… I don’t know. We need to get her out of jail.’

‘We do.’

‘What did you think of her lawyer?’

‘She’s a tough nut and she’s clearly competent. But I’m worried she thinks Alice killed Sam.’

‘Really? Isn’t it her job to think Alice is innocent?’

Toby shrugged. ‘As long as she puts forward a good case, it probably doesn’t much matter.’

‘Alice’s law firm will be wondering where she is over the weekend. Too bad.’

‘I sent them an email to tell them she couldn’t make it.’

‘Did you say why?’

‘No. I lied.’

‘Toby!’ But Megan’s horror was feigned. There were a lot of lies flying around at the moment, small ones and big ones. ‘That woman works too hard.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Toby.

‘Oh, give me a break! She works twelve-hour days seven days a week. Doesn’t she?’

‘Longer hours than that sometimes, but not every day.’

‘Can’t you tell her to stop?’

‘She likes it,’ said Toby.

‘Doesn’t it piss you off?’

‘Sometimes. But it’s kind of who she is. The woman I married.’

‘She’ll be going crazy in jail. Nothing to do.’

‘But a lot to think about.’

The food came, delivered by a girl careful not to make eye contact with them, under the stern gaze of the woman at the bar. It looked like Alice’s family were already at village pariah status.

‘Justin was pretty upset when he accused Bill of killing Craig,’ Toby said.

‘Wasn’t he? I never realized he was such a gorilla. He usually comes across as civilized to me. But he kind of worships Craig.’

‘I was going to say, he didn’t even know him. And presumably there is a Mr Opizzi who acted like his father?’

‘Yeah. Justin’s rough on him – has been ever since he figured out what happened. Because of course it means his mom was having an affair with Tony Opizzi while Justin’s hero naval-officer dad was still alive. Justin treats his dad, or step-dad, as a loser deadbeat. Brooke finds it all very awkward.’

‘Doesn’t sound much fun for Mr Opizzi.’

‘It isn’t. Brooke says he’s kinda nice. But then he did steal Craig’s wife.’

Toby spread some sweet pickle on his cheese, and popped it in his mouth. ‘Do you think there really is something suspicious about Craig’s death? Now Lars claims he killed Craig by accident. In a fight over a girl. Do you think that’s all it is?’

Megan shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘Does that make Lars a murderer? Because if he is a murderer, the police should know.’

‘He says the Navy didn’t prosecute him.’

‘Yeah,’ said Toby. ‘But they were in full cover-up mode.’

‘Do you think he killed Sam? Maybe Lars is the one who should be in custody, not Alice?’

‘Maybe. But the landlady just told us that Sam was still wearing his clothes. That kind of implies it wasn’t too late in the night – he hadn’t gone to bed yet. And Lars told me the police were happy with his alibi. Justin and Brooke stayed up in the Cottage after the game, and they would have noticed Lars leaving.’

The idea that Lars had killed Sam Bowen did not appeal to Toby. Toby liked Lars. Felt sorry for him. Admired the way he had volunteered the truth about Craig to Justin. ‘Any idea who the girl might be? The one Lars and Craig were arguing over when they had that fight?’

‘I’m not sure there was a girl,’ Megan said.

‘What do you mean?’

Megan didn’t answer, but toyed with her scampi.

‘Megan? What is it?’

Somebody has to care who killed that poor historian,’ she said.

‘The police do.’

‘Do they? It seems to me they are trying to pin it on Alice. And all that lawyer is trying to do is stop them. I’m sure Dad and Lars know stuff they are not saying. Aren’t you?’

Toby nodded.

‘If we are going to get Alice off, we need to show who did kill Sam Bowen.’

‘You said that before. But how can we do that?’

Megan put down her fork and stared at her beer. She was thinking.

Toby waited.

‘Toby?’

‘Yes?’

‘I haven’t been entirely straight with you.’

‘Oh?’ Toby was curious, but also disappointed. He had come to assume that Megan was the one member of the Guth family who was entirely straight with him.

‘Finish your lunch. There’s something I should show you.’

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