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‘Remember that regional fundraiser I took you to last Christmas, at Huntington Manor? Angus was one of the guests. Afterwards, he made a significant donation. We’ve kept the conversation going since, hoping to develop the partnership.’
‘I’ve been going through Angus’s contacts,’ Gabriel says. ‘Which is where I found your wife’s details.’
It’s starting to feel like the steel blades of a food processor are spinning inside Joseph’s head, pulping his brain to soup. He remembers the fundraiser – a black-tie event Erin had arranged for affluent donors and prospects. She’d rented tuxes for Joseph and Max, had given Tilly and Drew money for new outfits. Joseph doesn’t remember meeting the deadman that night, but Erin had introduced him to lots of people.
That all six of them were at the same event surely can’t be a coincidence. Which means Joseph needs to re-evaluate everything, including Max’s claim that the chain of tragedies since Friday began with a random car accident. He thinks of the damage to the Honda, or lack of it, along with his son’s explanation that the killing blow was a kindness intended to end suffering.
He replays, too, what his wife has just revealed. Erin’s donor recruitment campaigns, targeting specific high-net-worth individuals, stand little chance of resistance. It’s why she’s so sought after in the industry. Had Angus Roth lived, no doubt his wallet would shortly have grown much lighter.
With a lurch, Joseph remembers that the man’s physical wallet is still in his back pocket – and that Gabriel Roth is within touching distance of learning what happened to his twin. His head pounds as if he’s being strangled, as if the blood has nowhere to go. He wants to loosen his collar, gasp for breath.
Across the room Gabriel watches him, unblinking. Finally, he turns his attention to Erin. ‘When was the last time you saw each other?’
‘We caught up for coffee last week. He said he’d be in touch again soon.’
‘You’ve had no contact since? No emails, texts?’
‘I left him a voicemail. So did my PA, I think. But we didn’t hear back.’
‘How close would you say you’ve grown to him?’
‘Getting closer. Obviously, the charity’s keen to encourage his philanthropy. I really hope he’s OK. If there’s anything I or my team can do to help, we’ll be ready and willing the moment you ask.’
When Erin falls silent, Gabriel doesn’t acknowledge heroffer. ‘Do you know anyone else locally I should be talking to? Anyone who might have fallen through the cracks?’
‘Not really. As I said, it’s a relatively new partnership.’
‘Did he ever mention if he was seeing someone?’
‘I think he lives with his partner.’
‘I meant someone new. Someone a lot younger.’
Erin frowns, shakes her head.
Gabriel returns his gaze to Joseph. Then, standing, he says, ‘Thank you for making the time.’
Erin stands, too. Barefoot, she’s a good eight inches shorter than their guest. Joseph is conscious of how vulnerable she looks. He wants to climb off the sofa and put himself between them, but he’s worried that Angus Roth’s wallet will fall from his pocket and that Gabriel will recognize it. There’s something badly off about the man. Something malignant lurking close to the surface.
He glances around the room, mentally locating his various home defence weapons: the screwdriver tucked beneath his sofa cushion; the Stanley knife taped behind one of the radiators; the pewter candlestick bases at either end of the mantelpiece. His other weapons are too far away to be of use.
Gabriel digs into his pocket and removes an identical Montblanc wallet. From it he withdraws a card and hands it to Erin. ‘My number,’ he says. ‘Should Angus get in touch.’
For a moment he looks like he’s going to say more. But then something catches his eye. He crosses the room to a cabinet on which stands a collection of framed photographs. He picks one up and examines it: a shot of Erin at the Huntingdon Manor fundraiser, her arms around Tilly and Drew. Tilly’s hair is longer, pre-dating her recent pixie cut. Drew’s is blonde instead of blue.
‘Your daughters?’ Gabriel asks.
Erin smiles. ‘One is.’
He taps the glass with a nail. ‘Got to be this one. You can see the resemblance, clear as day.’ He replaces the frame and picks up another. ‘Your son?’
Erin’s smile grows a fraction tighter. She throws Joseph a subtle eyebrow.
Gabriel glances up. ‘He has more of his father’s look, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Probably because I’m his stepmother.’
‘That would explain it.’