Michael Ridpath - Amnesia

Madeleine shook her head. ‘Not about a second edition, no. But you are quite right. You have been asking questions about the murder. You came over to see us in New York last October. You spoke to Nathan about it. You upset him.’

‘What did I say?’ the old man asked.

‘I don’t know; Nathan wouldn’t say. He did tell me you had just been to see the stalker’s son, who lives in Long Island. But I never knew Nathan set him up in the real estate business until you told me just now. You arrived for lunch at our apartment. Then you spoke to Nathan alone for a couple of hours. You were supposed to be staying the night, but you left. Nathan threw you out.’

‘Why?’

‘He refused to tell me,’ Madeleine said. ‘I knew it had something to do with that vile book.’ She nodded at the volume in front of Callum.

Their food came and they began to eat.

‘Then Nathan died a couple of months later?’ the old man said.

‘That’s right,’ said Madeleine, flatly.

‘What happened?’

‘It was at our place in Scottsdale. In Arizona. Nathan used to like to go for a walk in the evening with a cigar. One evening a couple of weeks before Christmas, he went out, and he didn’t come back. I waited. I got worried. After an hour and a half, I went out to look for him with the maid. We had just gotten to the front gate when the police arrived. He had been found dead on the road a hundred metres from our house. Hit-and-run.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Clémence.

Madeleine’s face was impassive, but it was clear she was struggling to contain her emotions. ‘It happens,’ she said, with a French shrug.

‘Madeleine?’ The old man sounded nervous.

‘Yes?’

‘Is there any chance it wasn’t an accident?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, could someone have killed your husband on purpose?’

‘No.’ Madeleine hesitated. ‘That is, I don’t think so.’

‘But it was a hit-and-run, you say? Someone ran him over and then drove away. That could have been intentional.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Madeleine, frowning. ‘But who would have killed him? And why?’

Clémence did not like the way the old man had steered the conversation. It seemed to her that he was upsetting her aunt unnecessarily. ‘Yes, who?’ she said.

‘Me?’ said the old man quietly.

‘You! Why?’ asked Madeleine.

The old man shrugged. ‘A number of people have died over the years. Alden. Sophie. Now Nathan. And I always seem to be involved.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’ said Clémence. ‘You have no reason to think that! None at all!’ Somehow the idea that the old man had killed her uncle as well as her grandmother made her furious. She so badly wanted him to be innocent, not a mass murderer.

‘Do you know whether I was in Arizona then?’

‘No,’ said Madeleine. ‘You didn’t get in touch with us.’

‘But I might not have done. If I wanted to kill Nathan.’

The four of them sat around the table contemplating the thought.

Then Callum cleared his throat. ‘Dr Cunningham?’

‘Yes,’ said the old man.

‘You don’t know that you killed Nathan, do you? It’s not as though you remember it. And there is no evidence from what you have been saying that you did. It’s just speculation.’

‘Callum is right!’ Clémence said.

‘Forgive me,’ Callum said. ‘But you... we... seem to be in some difficulties here with a nutter looking for you armed with a rifle. I think we should stick to the facts, or what we can reasonably take to be the facts.’

The old man smiled at Callum. ‘You are quite right. I am assuming the worst. But we should entertain the possibility that Nathan was killed. And it might have been by me.’

‘Or by Jerry Ranger,’ said Clémence.

‘Or Jerry Ranger,’ the old man conceded. He turned to Madeleine. ‘Do you remember if I sent the original manuscript of Death At Wyvis to Nathan back in the seventies?’

‘Yes, I do, although Nathan never let me read it. He told me later that he tried to get you to stop publishing it. You see, he was worried about my reaction, and he was dead right to be. When I eventually read the book, I was furious. Until then I had no idea that you had killed Sophie, nor that Nathan had helped you cover it up. I was angry with you, but I was very angry with Nathan. Very angry.’

Madeleine’s eyes were glinting, and her accent had become especially thick. Clémence could see why Nathan might have been anxious to hide everything from Madeleine. It was clear that Madeleine was as deeply involved as any of them; possibly more deeply.

‘I’ve said it before, and I have a nasty feeling I will be saying it for what’s left of my life, but I’m sorry, Madeleine.’

Madeleine glanced at the old man and shrugged.

‘Anyway. You should leave here now,’ said the old man. ‘We have no idea where this Jerry Ranger is. He may be after you too.’

‘Perhaps I should,’ said Madeleine. ‘I came here to look after you, but I am not sure I can do that now. And I certainly don’t want to help you jog your memory any more. You can look after yourself, can’t you, Alastair?’

‘No he can’t!’ said Clémence. ‘The poor man is exhausted! There is a madman chasing him with a rifle, he lives all alone, and he still doesn’t know who he really is.’

‘Clémence, chérie, you are coming with me!’ said Madeleine. ‘Leave Alastair. I know old men, and this one is a tough old bird. He’ll be all right, and if he isn’t, it’s his own fault. He knows all that. But for you it’s different. I should never have gotten you involved in all this. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt.’

‘Your aunt is absolutely right, Clémence,’ said the old man. ‘You should go with her.’

‘No!’ said Clémence.

‘Yes,’ said the old man.

‘But what are you going to do?’ Clémence asked him.

‘I am going to go back to Culzie and find that exercise book. And then I will probably call the police.’

‘We should call the police now!’ said Clémence.

The old man glanced at Madeleine. ‘If you call the police now, you will have to stay here to talk to them. Get yourself to safety. I’ll be much happier then, and so will your aunt. If Jerry Ranger shoots me, so be it. I probably don’t have many years left in me and as we have all agreed, my life is pretty worthless anyway. What do you think, Madeleine?’

‘On this, Alastair is absolutely correct, chérie .’

Clémence glanced at Callum, who was listening closely. After all they had been through together, she couldn’t bear to abandon the old man — her grandfather. And she, too, wanted to know what was in that black exercise book. Alastair had found something out before he fell and hit his head. Something that propelled him all the way to America to confront Iain and Nathan. Possibly something that had led to Nathan’s death. Now that something was causing Jerry whoever-he-was to want to kill.

Something bigger than anything they had discovered so far.

Callum was looking at her oddly. As if he was trying to pass a thought onto her. An idea. And she believed she knew what it was.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave too. How shall we do this? Are you packed, Aunt Madeleine?’

‘My suitcase is in Davie’s taxi,’ said Madeleine. ‘He’s waiting for me.’

‘You should go directly to the airport,’ Clémence said. ‘I need to talk to Callum and to pack up, but I’ll follow you. I’ll take the train, maybe from Inverness. We probably shouldn’t travel together.’

‘Let’s meet in London, then,’ said Madeleine. ‘I’ll be staying at the Connaught. I’ll book you a room for you there. Do you need some cash for the ticket?’