Authors: James Dawson
‘Touché.
’
Alisha gave her hand a squeeze. ‘All we know is that he was there, that he lied.’
Katie threw her head back, looking to the ceiling for answers. ‘Why would he lie?’
Alisha could think of only one reason. ‘Because he was guilty.’
‘OK. So why would
Roxanne
keep it a secret?’ Katie chewed her lip, on the very edge of tears. ‘Why didn’t she tell the police he was there?’
A light bulb went off over Alisha’s head. ‘That shady bitch! She didn’t tell the police because she was planning to blackmail him.’ The idea made a lot of sense.
‘This was all about Ben,’ Alisha went on. ‘Don’t you get it? She knew that Greg was the richest, because of the football, but she must have worried that the photos of him
and Ryan wouldn’t be enough, although, girl, they would have been, believe me,’ Alisha said without irony.
Katie smiled grimly. She was clearly heartbroken at the prospect of her ex being a double murderer. Alisha was starting to think that she’d had a lucky escape on the beach earlier –
who knew what Ben was capable of?
‘So,’ Alisha went on, her thoughts picking up speed and size like a cartoon snowball rolling downhill, ‘Roxanne knew it was Ben. She knew he was there the whole time. But this
is the only evidence she had.’
Katie poked at the sad pile of papers. ‘It’s hardly evidence.’
‘Exactly! That’s what all that bloody cabaret was at the dinner table. Rox knew her evidence was – what do they call it on TV? –
circumstantial
, so she talked it
up. It was her best way of getting the money. She wanted to make us
all
think we were somehow involved, but she banked on Ben knowing he was guilty even if she couldn’t properly
prove it.’
It was a very strange feeling. Triumph on the one hand – Alisha felt pretty smug for figuring it out – but her satisfaction at having solved a puzzle was clouded by thoughts of Ben.
In her story, she’d unmasked a killer. But Ben? It seemed
ridiculous.
Katie was catching up. ‘But if he killed Janey, does that mean . . .’
‘That he killed Roxanne?’ Alisha expelled all the air from her lungs. ‘I guess so. He needed to keep her quiet. Maybe he thought she had better proof that he pushed Janey than
she actually did.’ Alisha paced over to the window and peered through the blinds. The sun was starting to set behind the villa. ‘I mean, my brother clearly has anger-management problems
. . .’
‘No kidding.’ Katie motioned at her neck.
‘. . . but I don’t think he’d kill Roxanne over some boy-on-boy action.’
Katie nodded. ‘According to Roxanne “Nancy Drew” Dent’s notes, she reckoned Greg and Ryan were “together” when Janey fell.’
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘That would make a lot of sense,’ Alisha agreed. ‘At the time they said they’d “walked home together”.
Greg’s a sneaky little git. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? Is he that scared of what people think about him?’
She had to hand it to Rox, she’d done a pretty good job of tying up the loose ends. When Janey Bradshaw fell to her death, Alisha had been throwing up at home, Katie had been ill in bed,
Ryan and Greg had been doing God-knows-what, and Ben had been at the cliffs. With Janey.
Just hours earlier Alisha had been plotting an elaborate future with Ben Murdoch. Now he was a murderer. Even when a little dream dies, you have to mourn its passing. It left a black mark on her
heart. Alisha embraced Katie; it was the best she could do to apologise for what she’d done on the beach. Ben wasn’t hers to mourn, she told herself. He was Katie’s.
‘What’s that for?’ Katie asked.
‘Because it’s over and that’s a relief. I couldn’t see a way out, you know?’
Katie held her tight. ‘It’s not over.’
‘It is. When we get home we can just call the police and show them the evidence.’
Katie let Alisha go, shaking her head. ‘No. That won’t work.’ She seemed adamant. ‘What would we do? Show them Roxanne’s woeful evidence? There’s a reason she
didn’t show it to us. We’d have laughed her all the way to Portugal.’
‘But, still, it might be enough,’ Alisha said, clutching at really crap straws. ‘Ben will have to confess!’
‘No, he’ll just deny it and we’re back to square one with all of us going down for killing Rox. He could just as easily say you killed her because you hated her, or Greg
because of the gay thing.’
Alisha sighed. ‘That still hasn’t sunk in. Greg and Ryan. I mean, think of the children!’
Katie snorted. ‘I know. If that’s not natural selection, I don’t know what is. But we need to keep focused.’
‘Sorry.’
‘If we stay the night here, maybe we can get Ben to confess ourselves and record it.’
Alisha rolled her eyes. ‘Well, that should be easy. What are you gonna do? Drip water on his head or prod him with a red-hot poker? I still say we get out of here tonight and take all this
stuff to the police when we get home.’
‘No.’ Katie looked to the ceiling like she was shuffling ideas in her head. ‘I have a better plan. We do exactly what Roxanne did.’
‘Act like skanky sluts?’
‘No. We blackmail him.’
‘Are you
serious
?’ Alisha’s eyes almost fell out of her head. Katie seemed genuine, though. The colour had returned to her cheeks as if she’d tapped into an
emergency reserve of ‘fight’.
‘Yes! We’ll tell him we found Roxanne’s evidence and that we’ve called the police. Hell, we can even
call
the police – that Luisa Whatever-her-name-was
gave me her card. If we act like we truly
know
it’s him, he’ll
have
to say something.’
Alisha finally found herself on the same page as her friend. ‘And I could record it on my phone!’
‘Precisely. Obviously we’ve been watching the same bad TV as Ryan.’
‘Or,’ Alisha said, ‘he could just murder us all and do a runner.’
Katie’s face fell. She reconsidered for a moment. ‘No. No, not if he thinks there’s really solid evidence linking him to Janey.’
Alisha nodded. ‘And what happens after he confesses?’
‘Hopefully the police won’t be too far away.’
‘I don’t know, Katie. He might lose it.’
‘I know. It
is
dangerous, but it’s the only way we can get our lives back. Don’t you see? If we pull this off, it’ll all be over and done with for good. Janey,
Roxanne, this week,
everything.
We can tell the police he
made
us help him get rid of the body. It will be finished tonight.’
Alisha didn’t want to stay in this villa with a murderer for a second longer than she had to, but she could see that Katie’s plan might just work. And she
really
wanted her
life back. ‘When are we gonna do it?’
Katie pursed her lips. ‘Now.’
R
yan was suspended in the richest, most restful sleep he’d ever had when he was rudely awakened by Alisha’s wails reverberating through
the villa. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, but he’d found a new kind of peace in Greg’s arms.
However, as soon as he heard Alisha shout, ‘I can’t take this any more,’ he and Greg sprang to attention.
‘Is that Lish?’ Greg rubbed his eyes.
‘What is she doing?’ They rolled off the bed, Greg searching for the nearest pair of pants. He selected some Hollister sweat shorts and hoisted them on, almost collapsing to the
floor in the process. Ryan was way ahead of him. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Alisha hauling her suitcase across the lounge, collecting the things she’d left scattered
down there. ‘Alisha, what are you doing?’
She turned to face him, her nostrils flared. ‘I don’t know why I’ve listened to you, Ryan, but I’m not playing the sassy brown sidekick in your weird little soap opera
any more. I’m going home and I’m calling the police. I’m confessing!’
He reached her position and tried to snatch the suitcase from her, but she yanked it back. Greg hovered behind him, while Ben looked on in shock from the kitchen. ‘Alisha, you can’t!
Don’t you understand?
We got away with it.
Whoever killed Rox isn’t going to say anything – and neither are we.’
‘But what about the writing on the wall, Ryan? We’re never gonna be safe until we tell the truth. It’s the only way.’
‘Alisha, please. For me,’ Greg appealed.
‘Nice try, Greg. I’m not listening to you any more. This time you’re wrong and I’m right. I’m calling the police and you can’t stop me.’
There were footsteps behind them as Katie trotted down the stairs in her plimsolls. She wore a grave expression.
‘What’s up?’ Ryan asked. ‘You look awful.’
Alisha’s babbling stopped in a heartbeat and Ryan realised it had been an act – a convincing one, at that. She was good.
Alisha, in her normal voice, said, ‘Have you done it?’
Katie nodded. A very slight nod because her neck and jaw seemed to be deadlocked.
‘What? What have you done?’ demanded Greg.
‘The police are on their way.’ Katie walked right past them all and slid the patio doors shut before locking them.
Ryan realised that Alisha’s performance had been nothing more than a diversion to get him and Greg out of the master bedroom, so that Katie could reach the phone. ‘You’re
kidding, right?’ His voice shot up about three octaves. She was locking them in and the police were on their way. They were screwed.
‘No.’ Alisha went to Katie’s side. ‘We know who did it.’
‘We found Roxanne’s evidence,’ Katie added.
Ryan looked to his left, waiting for Greg to explode, steeling himself against the inevitable blast. But Greg failed to detonate. He started giggling instead; it was more than a little
creepy.
‘Brilliant. We’re all going to jail,’ Greg chuckled.
Ryan turned to his friends. If Greg wasn’t gonna say something, he bloody well was. ‘Have you lost your minds? What were you thinking? We had this under control!’
‘We know everything,’ Katie said calmly. ‘Who killed Janey. Who killed Roxanne. When the police get here, we just need to give them the evidence.’
‘When will they be here?’ Ryan demanded. ‘How long have we got?’ The sky was falling. This was the end of the world as he knew it. For the first time, Ryan felt more than
justified in his drama-queenery.
‘I don’t know. They said they’d be here as soon as possible. Before nightfall, I guess,’ Katie replied.
Ben cleared his throat and Ryan looked up to see that his friend’s skin had turned a sickly green. ‘What did you find?’ Ben asked.
‘As if we’re gonna tell you!’ Alisha snapped, eyes wild.
Ryan clutched at his hair. ‘Oh, my God. We’re screwed. We’re actually screwed.’
‘Only one of us is guilty.’ Katie looked almost apologetic. ‘I’ve locked all the doors, so none of us is going anywhere until the police arrive.’
‘So, what?’ Ryan spat. ‘We just sit and wait to get arrested?’ His T-shirt was soaked with sweat but his mouth was bone-dry.
‘Absolutely.’ Katie held her head high. ‘I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a drink. Anyone care to join me?’ She crossed the kitchen to the fridge and
pulled out the jug of sangria.
Was she tripping? ‘Oh, yeah! Why don’t we all sit around and have cocktails? It’s only the end of the world . . . Let’s get nibbles, too!’
Katie pulled glasses out of the top cabinet. ‘Ryan,’ she said pointedly, ‘you’ll be fine. Relax.’
What was that supposed to mean?
He
knew he hadn’t killed anyone, and now Katie apparently did, too. His mind whirred. What had been in Roxanne’s possession, and, more
importantly, how had he missed it in his search? ‘What do you mean,
I’ll be fine
?’ Ryan asked.
Katie ignored Ryan’s question and carried the jug through to the lounge. As she set it down on the coffee table, a wave of the red liquid sloshed over the rim and onto the wood. She wiped
it away with a hand so it wouldn’t stain. Even in their final hour, Katie Grant still wanted things to be perfect. Ryan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘Is everyone having some?’ Katie offered.
‘Last supper,’ Greg muttered, staring into space. ‘Why not? I could use a drink.’
Katie poured out five glasses. Ben waited by the patio doors, leaning up against them. He was a sad silhouette, drowning in satsuma-coloured light. ‘I don’t understand. Where did you
find it?’ He sounded like a man with nothing left. Ryan stared at him in disbelief – surely not Ben?
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Katie handed out the drinks. As she gave one to Ben, she stroked his hand. ‘What matters is that all of this will be over.’
Ryan practically snatched a glass from her and took a gulp of sangria.
Alisha sniffed hers experimentally. ‘I’m sorry, Ryan,’ she said, ‘but you were dead wrong, mate. There was no way we’d have got away with this. Like, no chance in
Hell. It would have been with us until the day we died. Graduation, weddings, babies,
their
graduations. It would always be there. There’s no way I’m living like that. We
had
to call the police.’
It was so unbearably hot. The peachy evening light cooked them through the windows as if they were ants under a magnifying glass. Ryan swigged another mouthful of the sangria and held the glass
to his face, allowing the condensation to trickle down his cheek.
Ben pushed away from the window and sat in the armchair. He sipped his drink and closed his eyes. He had given up. Surely not Ben . . .
‘Wait.’ Ryan gulped at his drink with a shaking hand. ‘I bloody well know
I
didn’t have anything to do with Janey’s death
or
Roxanne’s. You
two wouldn’t have called the police if it had been either of you, so that just leaves Greg and Ben.’
Katie remained silent, avoiding eye-contact. Alisha stared into her glass, also saying nothing.
‘Why would I have killed Janey?’ Greg couldn’t muster the passion to rant and rave. He looked exhausted. Ryan
still
couldn’t bring himself to ‘out’
him. He wanted to point out that Janey could well have seen the video of them, but that seemed like paranoia (and Ryan was pretty sure Janey would have said something to him had she seen it), so
that only left . . .