Toby shrugged. ‘As long as she puts forward a good case, it probably doesn’t much matter.’
‘Alice’s law firm will be wondering where she is over the weekend. Too bad.’
‘I sent them an email to tell them she couldn’t make it.’
‘Did you say why?’
‘No. I lied.’
‘Toby!’ But Megan’s horror was feigned. There were a lot of lies flying around at the moment, small ones and big ones. ‘That woman works too hard.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Toby.
‘Oh, give me a break! She works twelve-hour days seven days a week. Doesn’t she?’
‘Longer hours than that sometimes, but not every day.’
‘Can’t you tell her to stop?’
‘She likes it,’ said Toby.
‘Doesn’t it piss you off?’
‘Sometimes. But it’s kind of who she is. The woman I married.’
‘She’ll be going crazy in jail. Nothing to do.’
‘But a lot to think about.’
The food came, delivered by a girl careful not to make eye contact with them, under the stern gaze of the woman at the bar. It looked like Alice’s family were already at village pariah status.
‘Justin was pretty upset when he accused Bill of killing Craig,’ Toby said.
‘Wasn’t he? I never realized he was such a gorilla. He usually comes across as civilized to me. But he kind of worships Craig.’
‘I was going to say, he didn’t even know him. And presumably there is a Mr Opizzi who acted like his father?’
‘Yeah. Justin’s rough on him — has been ever since he figured out what happened. Because of course it means his mom was having an affair with Tony Opizzi while Justin’s hero naval-officer dad was still alive. Justin treats his dad, or step-dad, as a loser deadbeat. Brooke finds it all very awkward.’
‘Doesn’t sound much fun for Mr Opizzi.’
‘It isn’t. Brooke says he’s kinda nice. But then he did steal Craig’s wife.’
Toby spread some sweet pickle on his cheese, and popped it in his mouth. ‘Do you think there really is something suspicious about Craig’s death? Now Lars claims he killed Craig by accident. In a fight over a girl. Do you think that’s all it is?’
Megan shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
‘Does that make Lars a murderer? Because if he is a murderer, the police should know.’
‘He says the Navy didn’t prosecute him.’
‘Yeah,’ said Toby. ‘But they were in full cover-up mode.’
‘Do you think he killed Sam? Maybe Lars is the one who should be in custody, not Alice?’
‘Maybe. But the landlady just told us that Sam was still wearing his clothes. That kind of implies it wasn’t too late in the night — he hadn’t gone to bed yet. And Lars told me the police were happy with his alibi. Justin and Brooke stayed up in the Cottage after the game, and they would have noticed Lars leaving.’
The idea that Lars had killed Sam Bowen did not appeal to Toby. Toby liked Lars. Felt sorry for him. Admired the way he had volunteered the truth about Craig to Justin. ‘Any idea who the girl might be? The one Lars and Craig were arguing over when they had that fight?’
‘I’m not sure there was a girl,’ Megan said.
‘What do you mean?’
Megan didn’t answer, but toyed with her scampi.
‘Megan? What is it?’
‘ Somebody has to care who killed that poor historian,’ she said.
‘The police do.’
‘Do they? It seems to me they are trying to pin it on Alice. And all that lawyer is trying to do is stop them. I’m sure Dad and Lars know stuff they are not saying. Aren’t you?’
Toby nodded.
‘If we are going to get Alice off, we need to show who did kill Sam Bowen.’
‘You said that before. But how can we do that?’
Megan put down her fork and stared at her beer. She was thinking.
Toby waited.
‘Toby?’
‘Yes?’
‘I haven’t been entirely straight with you.’
‘Oh?’ Toby was curious, but also disappointed. He had come to assume that Megan was the one member of the Guth family who was entirely straight with him.
‘Finish your lunch. There’s something I should show you.’
When they got back to Pear Tree Cottage there was no sign of Bill. He was probably in his study upstairs, working on his tapestry.
The study was at the other end of the landing from his bedroom. Megan whispered that Toby should go into his own room for a minute and then join her in Bill’s bedroom. She would warn him if the coast wasn’t clear.
Toby was uneasy, but he did what he was asked. Megan was waiting for him in Bill’s bedroom. A four-poster bed dominated the room, with a view over the marsh to the dunes. Delicate, elegant English antiques surrounded the bed: two bedside tables, a small chest of drawers and a chair covered with a tapestry of daffodils. There was a feminine feel to the room — something about the pattern of the curtains and the bedspread; and the tapestry on the chair wasn’t one of Bill’s.
It had been Bill’s wife’s room.
‘Here,’ Megan whispered. She beckoned Toby to a built-in wardrobe that took up most of one wall.
‘Lift me up,’ she said.
Toby bent down, grabbed her legs, and raised her up so she could reach into the darkness at the back of a shelf that ran above the wardrobe. She pulled out a small wicker basket.
Toby lowered her. She squatted on the floor next to the basket. It was full of letters, still in their envelopes, softened and crinkled, about thirty of them, addressed to Donna Threadgold at 8 St Mark’s Place Apt 19, New York City. Megan riffled through them, checking the postmarks.
‘This is it,’ she said, extracting one. The postmark was January 20 1984.
With a glance at the open door, she pulled out three sheets of paper covered in handwriting, and passed them to Toby. ‘Read that.’
He read it. ‘Jesus!’ he whispered. Then he read it again.
‘I know, right?’ said Megan.
‘But this means Lars just lied to Justin? About Craig.’
‘Yep. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.’
‘And you didn’t tell the police?’
‘They didn’t ask me, or at least they haven’t yet. And I don’t think I will tell them. I came across the letters a couple of months after Mom died and I was going through her clothes. They were right up there, behind some shoe boxes. I shouldn’t have read them, but I just wanted to find out more about her. So I did. And this is what I found.’
They heard a door open down the landing and the floorboards creak.
They both stood up and listened. It was Bill. The most likely thing was for him to turn off the landing and head down the stairs.
But the footsteps came closer.
‘Shit!’ Megan said. ‘He’s coming! Give that to me!’
‘No,’ Toby said. ‘We need to discuss this with him.’
‘No we don’t! Jesus Christ, Toby! Stick it back in the basket. Quick!’
Toby turned towards the door.
Which opened.
Bill jerked upright in surprise when he saw Megan and Toby in his bedroom. He took in the basket. The letter in Toby’s hands.
‘What the hell?’
Megan looked scared. ‘Sorry, Dad.’
‘Is that a letter? Is that one of my letters to your mother?’
‘Yeah. I found them when I was looking through her stuff.’
‘And you showed them to Toby? What are you thinking? Those are private!’
‘Yes, I know. But—’
‘But what?’
‘This one mentions what happened to Craig,’ Toby said quietly. ‘On the submarine.’
‘Give it to me!’ Bill held out his hand.
‘No.’
‘What do you mean “no”? Give it to me right now.’ Bill took a step towards Toby.
Toby faced him. ‘No.’
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