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Erin leads him to the table. ‘I think we have some wound closure strips. Maybe they’ll … I … maybe they’ll do for now.’
For the next minute, Joseph submits to Erin’s attention as she works on his arm. He watches with awe and grief: awe that she would try to help him, even now; grief at what he must tell her, and the ruination it will bring.
Eventually, he says, ‘Angus Roth is dead. Max killed him Friday night in Jack-O’-Lantern Woods. He told me he knocked him down on his way to Drew’s. Just some random guy who stepped into the road.’
Erin stops what she’s doing, glances up at him. Her eyes are blue planets, vast in range, each with a hollowed-out core. Her breath comes in shallow sips.
Joseph licks his lips. ‘At the time, I didn’t know about … about what was going on. And I had no reason to think he was lying. I didn’t want Max to lose his whole future over what seemed like a tragic accident. So I decided to cover it up.’
Erin’s eyelids stutter. Her breathing is more audible now. ‘Angus is dead?’
‘Yes.’
She looks around the room. Her gaze falls on Enoch, quickly moves away. Removing the last bandage from the kit, she winds it around Joseph’s arm. Her hands are shaking almost as badly as he is. ‘You’re saying Max knew about Angus? And that’s … that’s why …’
‘I don’t think it was a coincidence that they were in those woods, together, Friday night. I think he must have known, yes.’
Erin shudders. She digs into the first-aid kit and removes a safety pin. Perhaps the task of bandaging his arm is helping to order her thoughts. Once the task is complete, she laces her fingers over her stomach, like an expectant mother unconsciously protecting her child.
‘So where’s Angus now?’
‘I buried him Sunday night. Drove him out to Black Down, dug a grave, filled it in. I tried to do it Saturday, after the party, but I didn’t leave myself enough time.’
Gently, still cradling her stomach, Erin begins to rock. ‘And Drew?’
‘Max says she knew about Angus. That she was scared, wanted to tell someone. That it was only a matter of time before she went to the police.’
‘She’s gone, too?’
He can’t bring himself to answer that, because he still can’t reconcile himself to the reality.
Erin coughs again, makes a small sound of distress. ‘When did she …’
‘Some time on Sunday night. I went back to the bungalow after burying Angus. Max was already there. Drew was in the living room, laid out on a plastic sheet.’
‘My God, Joe.’ Those blue planets swirl. ‘Where is she now?’
‘Yesterday, she was still in the living room, which is why I tore over there when you told me about the viewing. I … I got her into the Honda just in time.’
Silence, for a while. Then Erin says, ‘So where’s the car?’
‘That’s just it. I don’t know.’
‘How can you not?’
He shrugs, opens his hands.
‘Did Max take it?’
‘He said no. But maybe.’
Erin casts another look at Enoch. ‘None of what you’ve just told me explains this – what you just did.’
‘Last night, when we were over there, I caught Max searching Drew’s room. He was looking for that phone. There’s something’s on it that’ll implicate him. Something that’ll send him to prison for life, if anyone sees.’ He passes his fingers through his hair, feels blood where Enoch’s rings must have cut open his scalp. ‘If I can save Max, I will. I don’t care, any more, about the right or wrong of it. Or what I have to do. I’m not sure I even care what he did. I just want him to survive this, Erin. I just want to keep him close.’
‘Three people are dead.’
Joseph examines his knuckles. The skin is scuffed, rucked back in white layers.