‘How far would Edgar go to stop him?’ Rachel says. Then she seems to gather herself. ‘No, I’m being ridiculous. He can’t have had anything to do with what happened to Victor last night. He didn’t even know he was in the country.’
‘Lucy, you’d better . . .’ Anna says. Lucy knows exactly what she wants to say.
It’s now or never. Lucy’s choice. Trust Edgar and keep his secret. Or . . .
A deep breath, then: ‘Edgar was lying. We saw Victor in Cambridge yesterday.’
‘What the hell?’ Rachel says. ‘What happened? Why didn’t Edgar tell the police?’
‘I don’t know. He told me to trust him, but I don’t know what to think anymore.’
Rachel’s shaking her head. ‘Edgar has always felt like he was above the law.’
Some rules are made to be broken. That’s what he’d said to her. But this is beyond anything she’d ever imagined.
‘You said Edgar can be terrifying when he loses his temper. How far would he go to stop Victor interfering with Marie’s case?’ Anna says.
‘Not as far as trying to kill him,’ Rachel says. ‘I’m sure of it. Anyway, he stayed in Cambridge last night. It can’t have been him.’
But Lucy’s stammering now, stuttering to get something out, her face bright red. ‘Um, I’m sorry, this is hard . . . but maybe he could have come back. I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn’t there. Then, when I woke up in the morning, he was back. He said he’d gone for a walk, bought a coffee.’ Even her ears have turned pink.
Rachel nods curtly.
‘He could have done it,’ Lucy says. ‘He could have driven back to Oxford and come back to the hotel. There was time.’
No one speaks. Anna tucks her hands into her pockets, shivering slightly, though the roof space is as warm as ever.
‘Anything else you want to tell me?’ Rachel asks.
Lucy twitches at the question. But before she can respond, some more papers on the desk catch her eye. She picks them up, leafing through them, flicking random sheets out of the way. She’s not sure exactly what she’s looking for, but after a couple of moments, she finds something, her fingertips jolting at the discovery as if it’s electrified. She holds it out to the others.
‘Look at this.’
Incoherent ramblings, crazed capital letters in black ink scrawled across the page.
I KNEW YOU LOVED ME AND NOW YOU’VE SHOWN ME. THE MOST AMAZING CONVERSATION OF MY LIFE. WE’RE GOING TO WORK TOGETHER, EVERYTHING. I KNOW WHAT TO DO – YOU’VE TOLD ME. IT WON’T BE LONG NOW TILL YOU’RE MINE
‘What the fuck?’ Rachel says. Anna is standing beside her, her face equally startled at the sight of the demented scribblings.
‘The notebook,’ replies Lucy. ‘Marie’s notebook. These must be the scans of it. Edgar said Victor had sent them, but Edgar wouldn’t take them seriously.’
‘What notebook?’ Rachel asks.
‘Marie kept a notebook – a handwritten diary. Victor found it in a box of Gabriela’s belongings that her parents had kept. It’s why he’s so insistent she can’t be set free. What was it his email said? “She’d been watching you, waiting for the moment to strike.”’
Rachel’s white to her lips. ‘Proving Victor’s theory that Marie planned to kill Gabriela from the start. Edgar never believed that could be true.’
Lucy nods. ‘And now Victor’s almost been burned alive.’ What the hell was Edgar so desperate to hide?
‘It’s impossible to know what all this means. Without the actual notebook, there’s no way of giving this context. These pages could be anything,’ Rachel says. She’s leaning over the desk beside Lucy, looking intently at the papers.
‘Edgar’s got the notebook,’ Lucy says. ‘Victor gave it to him yesterday. He has all the evidence. We have no idea what else could be hiding in those pages.’
Rachel rifles through the desk herself, papers flying.
There’s a long pause, before she takes in a deep breath, exhales shakily. ‘Dear God, Edgar. What have you done?’
48
