“I just said I had a date. I didn’t say it wasmydate,” replies Donna.
Donna’s phone buzzes. She looks at the screen. “It’s Elizabeth. She wonders if we’re free tomorrow morning. Nothing urgent.”
“Solved the case, no doubt.”
Donna laughs. She hopes everything is okay with her friend.
112.
Penny’s bedside lamp is on its lowest setting, just enough light for two old friends with familiar faces. Elizabeth has Penny’s hand in hers.
“So did anyone get away with anything, darling? Tony Curran didn’t, did he? Someone did for him. Johnny, so everyone seems to think, though I have a theory about that. I must discuss with Joyce. No loss there, anyway. And Ventham? Well, you know John has to pay for that. I’ll take the police there in the morning, and they’ll find his body, we both know that. The moment he’s home, a little nightcap, and that’s that. He knows enough to make it peaceful, at least, doesn’t he?”
Elizabeth strokes Penny’s hair.
“And what about you, darling? You clever girl. Did you get away with it? I know why you did what you did, Penny. I see the choice you made, to deliver your own justice. I don’t agree with it, but I see it. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t facing what you were facing. But did you get away with it?”
She places Penny’s hand back on the bed and stands.
“It all rather depends, doesn’t it? On whether you can hear me or not. If you can hear, Penny, you’ll know that the man you love has just walked off into the night to die. All because he wanted to protect you. And that all comes down to the choice you made all those years ago. And I think that’s punishment enough, Penny.”
Elizabeth starts to put on her coat.
“And if you can’t hear me, then you got away with it, dear. Bravo.”
Her coat is now on, and she places a hand on her friend’s cheek.
“I know what John did while he was holding you, Penny; I saw the syringe. So I know you’re off too, and this is good-bye. Darling, I haven’t reallyspoken about Stephen recently. He’s not at all well, and I’m trying my best, but I’m losing him bit by bit. So I have my secrets too.”
She kisses Penny’s cheek.
“Dear God, I will miss you, you fool. Sweet dreams, darling. What a chase.”
Elizabeth leaves Willows and walks out into the darkness. A quiet, cloudless night. A night so dark you think you might never see morning again.
113.
Chris takes a taxi home and walks the long walk up to his flat. Is it the booze, or is he a little lighter on his feet?
He opens his front door and surveys the scene. A few things would need to be tidied away, for sure—take the recycling out, maybe buy some cushions and a candle? The bathroom door still sticks whenever it’s opened, but it’s nothing that a bit of sandpaper and hard work wouldn’t fix. Go to Tescos, buy some fruit, put it in a bowl on the dining table. Of course, also buy a fruit bowl. Clean the bedding. Replace toothbrush. Buy towels?
That should do it. Just enough to convince Patrice that he’s a regular human being and not a man who has given up on life. It wouldn’t take much. Then he could send her a text, invite her round for dinner while she’s in Fairhaven.
Flowers? Why not? Go crazy.
Chris switches on his computer and waits for his emails to load. A bad habit, checking in before bedtime. Delaying bedtime, usually. Three new emails, nothing that looked like it would detain him. One of his sergeants was doing a triathlon, a cry for help for which he expected to be sponsored. An invitation to the Kent Police Community Awards night, bring a guest. Would that count as a date? Probably not; he would check with Donna. Then an email from an address Chris didn’t recognize. Didn’t happen often; Chris kept his personal account as private as one could these days. From Kyprios Associates, subject: “Strictly Private and Confidential.”
From Cyprus? Had they found Johnny? Were solicitors warning the police off? But why would it come to his personal account? No one in Cyprus had this email address. Chris clicks on the email.
Dear Sir,
Our client, Mr. Demir Gunduz, has asked us to forward this correspondence to you. Please be advised that any and all information included in this correspondence is to be treated as confidential. Please direct any reply to our offices.
Your faithful servant,
Gregory Ioannidis
Kyprios Associates
