The Dark Eye (The Saxon & Fitzgerald Mysteries Book 2) (13 page)

‘How did you hear Felix was dead?’

‘Strange called me. He knew Felix and I had been lovers. He said he thought I was owed the courtesy of a call. It’s not as though Felix and I were destined to be together or anything, but I at least deserved that, otherwise I’d have heard about it on the late news.’

‘How did you feel?’

‘I just felt dreadfully sorry for him. I went round to the police, wanting to see his body, but they said I couldn’t without Alice’s permission. I even left a note for her at Felix’s house but she never had the courtesy to get back to me. Same old Alice.’

‘She’s had a lot on her mind.’

There I went, defending her again; I’d have to knock that on the head.

‘I don’t mind admitting I was scared too,’ Gina said. ‘When something like that strikes so close to home, it makes you think no one’s safe. But then I heard this morning that it wasn’t the Marxman at all, and then I just felt ashamed that I hadn’t realised he was in such pain, enough pain to – I don’t need to say it – to do something like that. It was a long time since we split up, so there’s no reason why I should have known. I felt bad, that’s all.’

‘You’ve no doubt he killed himself?’

She looked at me like she didn’t understand the question.

‘What’s it got to do with what I think?’ she said. ‘Strange told me about the autopsy report. The papers this morning said the police were no longer looking for anyone else in connection with his death.’

‘Alice doesn’t think Felix killed himself,’ I said. ‘She still thinks he was murdered.’

She shook her head sharply.

‘I wouldn’t listen to anything that bitch tells you. She is one seriously screwed-up lady. Trust her to turn Felix’s death into some major drama for her. It couldn’t just be suicide. Is that why she has you asking questions? What are you, some kind of private detective?’

‘Nothing like that. I’m the one who found Felix’s body,’ I told her. ‘He called me that night, asked to meet me. He thought I could help him, but I never got the chance to find out what it was he wanted to tell me. He sounded – troubled.’ I didn’t mention how he’d said someone was trying to kill him. ‘My only interest is in finding out what happened.’

‘You found him?’ She seemed genuinely taken aback by the news. ‘I heard on the radio that a woman had found him, but I thought it meant some local in Howth.’

‘I asked for my name to be kept out of it,’ I explained.

‘Least they respected it. More than the police obviously did when I said I didn’t want to be involved.’ She took another sip of wine. She must be on to her third glass by now. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she added quickly. ‘I don’t mind. I haven’t had much chance to talk about Felix since he died. And I suppose that explains what Miranda Gray was doing here too.’

‘Felix’s therapist has been here?’

‘She turned up yesterday. Asking what I knew about Felix’s death. She said she was worried about some stuff Alice had said to her. Gray used to treat them both, you probably know that already. She used to see him every Monday and Friday afternoon. When we were together, I’d drive him round to her consulting rooms and wait outside in the car whilst he went in for his session. She used to see Alice straight after. Cosy set-up, don’t you think?’

‘And now she’s digging. I wonder why?’

‘She said she was concerned for Alice,’ said Gina. ‘Not an emotion I find myself sharing, I must say.’

My eye was distracted momentarily by a bee which had landed on the edge of the table and was now walking unsteadily about, one of the first of the new spring.

I hate bees. I was stung once as a child and still remembered it, the panic I’d felt and how my mother had berated me for making such a fuss. She wasn’t a woman who believed in people making a fuss, not even frightened children. And maybe she was right. There were easier ways to deal with pests than panic, and I moved my hand quickly as I sat there to flatten it against the table. But Gina was too fast for me. By the time I had moved, the bee was already dead and she was wiping her hand on a cloth to clean off the remains.

She laughed lightly.

‘More wine?’

The last thing I expected when I got back to my apartment some hours later was to find Alice sitting on the stairs outside my door waiting for me; and I wasn’t sure I was in the mood for talking to her either. My head was the worse for wear with wine. Gina had ended up making pasta and showing me more of her photographs, opening another bottle. And then another one after that. She was hard to keep up with, and I’d got out of the habit of drinking seriously during the day, which Fitzgerald would no doubt say was a good habit to get out of.

Now here was Felix’s sister expecting
what
of me?

And what would I get in return?

More evasions?

A woman like Alice needed delicate handling, and she’d caught me at the wrong time for diplomacy. Hence I was a little abrupt as I asked how she’d gained entry to the building.

‘The doorman let me in. I said we were friends.’

Hugh. I should make a note reminding me to kill him.

‘I went round to the house,’ Alice explained, ‘and yours was the last number that had called. I tried ringing you back, but there was no answer here, and I knew you didn’t have a new contact number for me. So I came round.’

A simple enough explanation.

Except I didn’t remember giving her my address.

Still, I could hardly leave her sitting on the steps.

‘You’d better come in,’ I said.

I unlocked the door and ushered her inside, chiding myself as I started giving the apartment a brief once-over to see if it was tidy. Like I cared whether it was tidy. I must be picking up some civilised habits from Fitzgerald; I’d have to put a stop to that.

‘How’s the hotel?’ I said.

‘I don’t think it’s going to work out,’ said Alice. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing there really, apart from running up a huge bill on my credit card in the mini bar. I can’t run away from Felix simply by leaving the house. I can’t stop
thinking
about him simply because I can’t feel his presence in the room like I do at home.’

‘At least the suicide verdict means the police can release the body,’ I replied. ‘Isn’t that what you want? Grace Fitzgerald says you’ve been asking about it pretty insistently.’

‘My brother’s body was collected from the morgue this afternoon,’ Alice said with a stiff nod, either not noticing or ignoring the harder edge to my response than I’d allowed myself to indulge on our previous meetings. ‘That’s another reason I came round,’ she continued unruffled instead. ‘I wanted to give you this.’

She took a card from her pocket and handed it to me.

Invitation to a funeral.

My social life really needed improving.

‘This is fast,’ I said, looking down at it.

‘There’s not much point dragging it out,’ said Alice. ‘I’d rather get this over with as speedily as I can and then start getting on with my life again. If you can call it a life.’

But I wasn’t in the mood right now for feeling sorry for her. I was tired of hearing different versions of what she’d said, what she thought. My sympathy for her was leaking away through the gaps between them all.

‘You didn’t need to bring this round personally,’ was all I said.

‘I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you got it. Also, I . . . I wondered how you were getting on with investigating the circumstances of his death.’

‘You’re not letting this go?’

‘Not until I’m satisfied that Felix died by his own hand, no.’

Died by his own hand: she talked sometimes like she’d been a Victorian governess in a previous life.

‘I don’t think I can help you,’ I said, and she didn’t make any effort to hide her disappointment. And, annoyed with her though I was, her look scratched at me because I knew what it was like when no one would help. When no one would listen.

Sydney’s death had taught me that lesson.

‘But yesterday you said—’

‘I know what I said yesterday. It’s not that I don’t want to help. I told you, I still think there are plenty of unanswered questions about Felix’s death. I can’t get it out of my head, his call to me that night. Can’t stop thinking that maybe I could’ve done something, if I’d asked for more details, if I’d got to the lighthouse quicker. But you’re not being straight with me. If you want your brother’s death investigated, why don’t we start with Gina Fox?’

She flushed, and a flash of something crossed her face.

Anger?

‘How did you find out about her?’ she said tightly.

‘It wasn’t hard. You can’t ask complete strangers to investigate your brother’s death and then not expect them to find out he had a lover.’

‘
Had
is correct. That slut was no longer part of Felix’s life.’

‘Made sure of that, did you?’

‘You’ve been talking to her, I can tell,’ she said. ‘I can recognise her lies. They’re infectious. Is that where you’ve been this afternoon?’

‘It’s really none of your business where I’ve been.’

Her next words were careful.

‘I didn’t like Gina, it’s true. And I told Felix exactly what I thought about her, that she was using him, that she was bad for him. But it was his decision to break up with her. He was a grown man. What do you think I did – threaten to stop his pocket money if he saw her again?’

It wasn’t as easy as that. A couple in as long and complicated a relationship as Felix and Alice could make demands of one another without anything needing to be said, much less threats made. Just the thought of displeasing the other, of pushing them away, of losing them, of being alone, could be enough. But I held my silence. Alice knew all that as well as I did, and she knew that I knew it. She didn’t need me to spell it out to her.

‘That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t get around to mentioning the fact that Gina existed,’ I said.

‘She and Felix split up nearly a year ago. I had no reason to suspect that Felix’s death had anything to do with her, and I certainly didn’t want her brought back into my life. Gina Fox is not a pleasant woman. She was jealous of what Felix and I had together.’

‘According to her, it was the other way round.’

‘What?’

‘She thinks you and Felix were . . . how shall I put this? On closer terms than brother and sister normally are. She thinks you couldn’t cope with the fact that Felix wanted to be with her, be in her bed. That he took her with him when he was taking photographs.’

‘That’s another lie,’ said Alice. ‘Felix always worked alone.’

‘That’s not how Gina remembers it.’

‘And does Gina remember how, after Felix told her he wanted nothing more to do with her, she put us through hell? I remember. The late-night phone calls. The abusive letters. It didn’t matter where we were. We’d turn around and there she’d be, following us, watching us.’

‘You think she was dangerous?’

‘In the right circumstances, yes.’

‘All the more reason then to tell me about her after Felix died, surely?’

Down came the mask again.

‘I’m not saying she had anything to do with my brother’s death,’ she said.

‘Aren’t you?’

‘No.’

I put my fingers to the bridge of my nose and pressed them hard. My head felt foggy. I wanted to lie down. Wanted silence. Wanted not to have to play this game anymore.

‘You see, Alice, this is the problem I have. You say you want me to find out more, and then you turn monosyllabic on me. Not cooperative. You can’t ask people to help you if you won’t give them anything to go on. If you won’t make the journey easier for them.’

‘I don’t mean to be uncooperative. It’s just . . . I don’t want to say anything that . . .’

‘Makes Felix look bad, I understand that. But what’s more important? Keeping Felix’s secrets, whatever they were, or finding out what really happened that night, finding out if someone
was
trying to kill him, like he said, if he
had
seen something he shouldn’t?’

‘Don’t you think I want to find out?’

‘I think you haven’t thought through yet what you want. All I know is there’s something going on. You’re digging, you got me digging; now Miranda Gray’s digging.’

‘What’s Miranda got to do with this?’ she burst out. I could see it was news to her that her therapist was looking into the circumstances of her brother’s death as well.

‘Your therapist went round to Gina’s place yesterday fishing for information.’

‘She didn’t tell me she was going to do that,’ Alice said quietly. ‘But Miranda cared a lot about Felix. Maybe she doesn’t believe Felix killed himself either.’

‘On the contrary,’ I said. ‘She told the police that Felix’s suicide was totally in keeping with what she’d learned about him during their sessions together.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Felix wasn’t suicidal.’

‘She said he was suffering from depression. You told me he’d had a breakdown.’

‘There’s a big difference between a breakdown and suicide.’

‘Tell that to Miranda Gray.’

‘I will. That’s exactly what I’ll do. She’s no right to be telling the police anything about Felix. She was his doctor. She was bound by an oath to him.’

‘Even after he was maybe killed?’ She didn’t answer, so I pressed on, probably foolishly. ‘Who says she was digging into
Felix
’s state of mind anyway?’

I was probably slitting my own throat. If I really did want to find out more about Felix’s death, I needed Alice on side. But she was irritating me too much to pussyfoot around.

‘What do you mean by that?’ she said.

‘What if she was trying to find out what’s going on in
your
head? Find out why, for instance, you’d tell me your brother was murdered, then tell Strange you said no such thing.’

‘Is that what he says?’

‘He says you told him that I was bothering you, trying to get you to believe all sorts of wild stories about Felix’s death. That I was playing with your mind.’

She seemed confused.

‘I . . . I don’t know why he said that,’ she said at last. ‘I’m sorry if that’s what he told you. It’s not true. I
told
him Felix had been killed, but he just told
me
I was being silly, that I was upset. Not thinking straight. Just like
I
told Felix. You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know what to believe,’ I said honestly. ‘When I try to put the pieces in order, I’m not even sure I know anything about you. What secrets you might be hiding.’

‘I liked you,’ said Alice. ‘I thought we could be friends. I really did. I see now that I was wrong. I won’t bother you again, if that’s how you feel about me. That I’m a liar.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Not in so many words. You didn’t need to.’

‘Alice, don’t be silly.’

The words were wasted. She was gone. The door slammed, and I heard the clattering echo of her footsteps fading down the stairs, and I kicked myself.

Metaphorically, that is. I wouldn’t trust myself to stand up straight after all that wine if I did it literally. But I certainly deserved to be kicked.

I considered running after her, but what would be the point? The fact was, I realised as I stood there listening to her footsteps vanish down the stairwell, I was tired of Alice, tired of Felix, tired of it all. I wished I’d never heard of them. Wished Felix had never called me that first night. It felt like he’d locked a collar round my neck and thrown the key into the black water where even the beam of the lighthouse couldn’t find it; and no matter how deeply I swam, I’d never find it. All I’d do was forget where the surface was.