“Carol, I—”
“You and I are going to talk, Elisa, and we’re going to talk now. In private.”
Elisa nodded.
“In my flat?” suggested Carol.
“Giles’s office would be better, if you don’t mind. He’s gone out for a while. It’s just along here.”
Carol followed.
Elisa pushed open the door to the office, and a stack of papers toppled over. The room set Carol on edge. She’d always kept a tidy cell; this place was chaos. At the back of the office, there was a desk with an old Mac desktop computer and piles of detritus. An apple core, protein bar wrappers, unopened letters with red ink. Behind the desk there was a door, presumably to a cupboard. On the floor a golf bag lay on its side beside a putting mat. Elisa moved a box off a chair. “Sorry, sit down.”
“Thank you.”
Tyler popped his head around the door. “Mum.”
“I’m sorry, Carol. Give me a moment.”
Elisa left the room and had a conversation with Tyler in the corridor. Carol nosily picked up a stack of papers and skimmed through it. When Elisa returned she put the papers down.
“That boy. He never stops thinking about karaoke night. Wants to be a DJ,” said Elisa, rolling her eyes. She sat at the other side of the desk and noted Carol taking in the state of the room. “You see what I have to deal with?”
“Why were you vacuuming? I thought you had a cleaner.”
Elisa picked up a stack of bills and waved them. “We can’t afford her.”
“But I thought…”
“That this was a luxury retirement home? It’s a disaster.”
“Why are you showing me this?” asked Carol.
“By way of an explanation. Carol, I’m sorry for what happened last night. I’m trying to show you the kind of pressure we’re under here.” Elisa slowed down, emphasizing her point. “Youarea problem, Carol. A very big problem. We were already struggling to find new residents. Why do you think we allowed a serial killer to buy an apartment? We were desperate. But then there’s a murder. Did you do it, by the way?”
“No.”
“Carol.Did you do it?”
“Why does everybody keep asking me that?No.”
“It almost doesn’t matter. The murder is already in the papers. When they find out we have you here, we’ll never sell another apartment. I had to do something! I had to get you out of here. If you happened to be the murderer, great. That would be two problems solved.” Elisa spoke softly, conspiratorially. “When I knew the police were on their way, I thought I’d give them a little bit more to work with. So, yes, I did tell Belinda you called her a slut. I’m sorry. Maybe it was wrong but…” She opened her arms to the state of the room. “We’re dealing with a lot.”
“You can’t get rid of me. I have rights.”
There was a pause. The ladies looked at each other. There was an unsaid respect. Elisa was too impressive a woman to be in her current situation, thought Carol. Too elegant to have a boss who kept his office like this. But she’d seen a lot of women in prisonwho were too good for where they were, usually dragged down by the men in their lives.
“You just work here, yes?” asked Carol. “I mean, you don’t have a stake in Sheldon Oaks, do you?”
“No. I just work here, you’re right.”
“Then why are you so concerned? You’re a smart lady. You can get a job anywhere else, surely.”
“I love this place. It’s beautiful, don’t you think? I wish I could retire here.”
“Maybe you can.”
Elisa laughed. “You think I can afford to retire here?”
