“They will when they see what James is like,” I say, remembering the videos I have.
“What do you mean?”
“There are videos, from the CCTV around the house. Of James being aggressive, violent. It paints a picture of who he is.”
“So, you did get access to the CCTV?
“Yes, on the laptop upstairs.”
“So, what we did, that would be recorded too?” she asks.
I nod. “I think so.”
Emma’s face hardens. “We need to see it, before we call the police. We need to know what it really looks like when we play it back, that it definitely looks like self-defence. And if not we can delete it.”
“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. I hesitate to leave Pete alone, but have no choice. “Come with me.”
We rush out the kitchen to the study.
The laptop is closed; the Mac’s sleep light is a smug little dot. I open it and the password prompt is waiting like a small, polite guard.
“Do you know the password?” Emma asks.
“No, I need Pete’s Apple Watch to unlock it for me. That’s how I got in last time.”
I run to the bedroom to find his charging dock. It isn’t there. I check the drawers in the room. Nothing.
“I can’t get in. Only Pete can open it,” I admit.
With that Emma spins and runs back to the kitchen.
When I join them, Emma is closer to Pete, her words a continuous, frantic whisper. Her hands are on his knees. “Pete, please, let us get into the CCTV. I need to get in.”
Pete isn’t responding. He’s just sipping his wine.
“Please, please Pete,” she keeps saying.
“Emma—” I try to cut in.
“Or tell me about Chris. Tell me where he is. Where is Chris?”
“Emma, not now,” I say as I step closer. “We can talk about Chris another time.”
She ignores me. “You can tell me now, Pete. Now that James is gone. You always said if James wasn’t around, you’d help me. Please, where’s my brother?”
“Emma, this isn’t the time. We need to call the—"
Pete turns to her suddenly. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, tell me! Where is he?”
No, no,I think. No, not now. I know what happened to Chris. He’s dead at the hand of James. I saw it with my own eyes. Now, with another body lain on the same kitchen floor, is not the time for the revelation that Emma’s brother is dead.
What is Pete thinking?
“Okay,” Pete says simply.
Pete’s face goes blank for a long breath. Then he reaches for the TV remote, bringing the sixty-inch television mounted on the wall to life. Everything in the room goes quiet, as if the house itself is inhaling. Pete taps on his phone for a second, before a video starts streaming in front of us.
