George rolls his eyes. ‘Miles has a stalker.’
Faith slowly shakes her head. ‘Because ... of course he has.’
‘I wish that was the end of it, but it’s not. This psycho ... well, we don’t know for sure that he’s a psycho ... but a man has been following him and sending him threatening emails. And’ – George takes a deep breath – ‘then he turned up in Queenstown.’
‘And now he’s turned up here in this forest,’ Faith says, flatly, staring at the window.
‘We don’t know that,’ Miles says. ‘The whole point of coming here was to get away. We were careful, and we made sure we weren’t followed. There’s no way he could have found us here.’
‘Right,’ George says. ‘But the point I’m making is, there are other, much more rational, explanations for what’s happened to Elis. It’s not fair to point the finger at me just because Elis and I had a row. And it’s not fair to point the finger at Miles, either. He’s done nothing wrong.’
Faith returns to the front seats to comfort Jessie, whose sobbing has entered yet another phase. Her wailing and hyperventilating have ended, and the sounds she’s producing now are more defeated and laborious. Her body sporadically twitches, as if her skin is being pinched. George understands why Jessie is upset – they’re all upset – but this Dying Swan act is a little bit over the top. Faith places an arm around Jessie, but her eyes remain focused on George and Miles. ‘It’s a bit rich to say he’s done nothing wrong. You guys have lied about pretty much everything. And now you expect us to believe this?’
‘It’s true,’ Polly says, tilting her head back in a show of exhaustion. ‘Someone has been harassing him.’
‘Thanks for that, Polly. Some friend you’ve turned out to be.’ Faith glares at Polly, who doesn’t meet her eye. ‘Anyway, this doesn’t change anything. If some psycho has got it in for Miles, why would he killElis?’ She pauses, looking around to see if anyone wants to volunteer an answer. No one does. ‘Some stalker didn’t kill Elis. One of you arseholes did. And my money’ – pointing at George – ‘is onhim.’
Chapter 46
Miles
Their arguments have ceased. Out of the gloom, the red lines of the digital clock display show 04:53. Jessie and Faith remain down at the front of the bus, and Miles sits on the bench next to Polly. Opposite them, George and Reubyn stare glumly into space. It must be at least ten minutes since anyone last spoke. For the first time in days, it’s close to being properly quiet, the wind and the rain having abruptly died off. There’s still a delicate tapping against the roof, but it’s so faint that Miles doubts whether it’s really rain or merely the memory of it, an imprint. Maybe it’s been hammering the roof for so long that it’s left an echo – like when you walk out of a loud concert and your ears ring. Mixed in with the sound is the faint, high-pitched whine of mosquitos. And, intermittently, there is something else: a strange, low boom that Miles believes must be coming from a bird.
In the absence of human conversation, Miles’s brain has been afforded a moment of clarity. Until now, he hasn’t been able to hear himself think under the noise of their own infighting. Now, there is a state of calm, albeit a very uneasy one.
There seems to be a growing suspicion towards George in relation to Elis’s murder. George is a lot of things, but not a killer. Everyone would be a great deal more suspicious of Miles if they knew about the conversation he had with Elis last night. If they knew about the false alibi. If they knew about Elis’s threats to expose it.
Elis was the only one who knew that Miles’s alibi was made up. Although Miles thinks his solicitor and barrister might know too, deep down. In fact, despite his solicitor not suggesting it explicitly, it was basically his idea. It’s amazing how much can be conveyed with just the eyes and a slight adjustment of facial muscles. His solicitor had asked him where he’d gone after his date with Caira and then said pointedly: ‘Having a solid alibi wouldreallyhelp your defence.’ It seemed as clear an instruction as Miles had ever received. It was his job to sort it out. Essentially, he’d been forced into the lie. Not by his solicitor, but by circumstance. By the police, who charged him despite failing to find any compelling evidence.
The lie worked fine. At least it did until Elis threatened to expose it. That could have been a significant problem. And now, it’s resolved. As terrible and gruesome and tragic as it is, Elis’s death appears suspiciously convenient for Miles. Or it would, if anyone knew the context. There’s no denying it: Miles has the strongest motive for killing Elis. But Miles didn’t do it. And that begs the question: who did? And why?
For a start, the location of Elis’s body is strange. What the hell was Elis doing at the bird hide in the middle of the night? He wasn’t out looking for a signal – he’d left his phone in his bag. When they first realised Elis was missing, Miles had assumed he’d legged it. But Faith’s right: Elis wouldn’t leave without his stuff – especially his passport. Miles’s best guess is that Elis went to the hide for some late-night birdwatching, although that still seems unlikely.
As for the motive, Miles can only think it was a case of mistaken identity. The killer hadn’t come for Elis – they’d come for him.Miles and Elis aren’t that similar in appearance, but in the dark – and nowhere is darker than the forest at night – it’s possible someone could have attacked Elis thinking he was Miles. It makes him shudder. That knife was meant for him. It washisthroat they wanted cut. It seems probable that the killer had already come for Miles once, when he was at the hide with Jessie. What would they have done, if Jessie hadn’t spotted them and caused them to flee? It doesn’t bear thinking about.
Despite having had no sleep, Miles finds himself restless. He rocks in his seat, picks at his clothing, digs under his fingernails. He has this overwhelming feeling that the person who has come for him is near. With every passing minute, he becomes surer of it.
Miles needs to get out of here. It doesn’t matter what anyone says: when dawn breaks, he’s leaving this forest and getting to safety. The longer he stays here, the higher the chance that his stalker will be able to get to him. The police have probably identified him by now, but Miles suspects they’re yet to track him down. He’s close, Miles can sense it. Alex Burnfield. He’s nearby. And he wants Miles dead. Outside, the sky is turning red. Dawn is breaking. But what, and who, will it bring? Burnfield. That name has been driving him mad. Burnfield. Burnfield.
‘What did you just say?’ Polly whispers.
Miles realises he’s been muttering under his breath. ‘Oh, nothing.’
‘You said Burnfield.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
Miles narrows his eyes at her. ‘Because that was the name my stalker used. When they checked in to the library to send the first email. You know this.’
‘No. You never told me that.’
‘I thought I did.’ But he didn’t. Miles remembers now: when he discussed it in the cable car, he was with George, Reubyn and Elis. Polly wasn’t there.
‘Well, don’t you think that’s odd?’ she whispers.
Miles sits up straight. ‘Why?’
