Page 32 of A Murder is Going Down

It’s while I’m in Ben’s messages that I see it. (Am I snooping now? Absolutely yes, but also aren’t I entitled to?) Halfway down the list of recent messages there’s one from Felix, which makes no sense because he and Ben were never on messaging terms. The only line I can read without opening the chat says:Are you going to tell her?

‘Why were you messaging Felix?’ I ask stupidly. Before I can open it, Ben lifts the phone out of my hand.

‘It’s nothing,’ he says.

‘Since when did you message each other? And why were you messaging on the day Felix died?’ (Because, yeah, did I mention that part?)

Patrick looks up. ‘What’s this about?’

‘It’s nothing to do with any of this,’ Ben says firmly.

‘Ben, if you know something you have to tell me,’ I say. ‘What does that message mean:Are you going to tell her?’

Lilia comes out of the bathroom, wearing rubber gloves and carrying a wet mop (so I really hope she’s getting paidfor this too). She looks between the two of us. ‘What’s happening?’

I could tell Lilia about the message. She would probably make Ben show it to her. But what I want even more than a look at Ben and Felix’s chat history is to get out of here and to not ask Lilia for anything. So I give Ben the same look Aunty Sam gives me when I tell her nothing is wrong when something is very clearly wrong and I stuff Felix’s file back where it belongs.

‘Come on, Patrick,’ I say.

‘You’re just gonna—’

‘It’s late,’ I say, which makes no sense because it’s barely six p.m.

It’s enough to get Patrick moving and we grunt goodbyes at Lilia and Ben, who still have to finish cleaning.

‘What the hell,’ Patrick says when we’re outside. ‘Are you going to tell her?What do you think that means?’

‘I have no idea. I didn’t even know Ben had Felix’s number. They didn’t like each other.’

‘At least this wasn’t a pointless exercise,’ Patrick says. ‘That text is more interesting than Felix’s rogue testicle.’

‘Ew, that’s my brother.’

‘Now you know how much fun it was for me speculating on whether my sister was shagging around.’

My head feels overstuffed with WhatsApp messagesand European trips and the imprint of Patrick’s fingers on my arm. I want to go home.

‘Thanks for coming with me.’ Patrick’s sincerity (?) is so out of character that I’m waiting for the joke when he keeps going. ‘You probably can’t stand being around Ben and Lilia, and I know you only did it to help me.’

The truth is that I canandcan’t stand to be around them. Part of me bloodyyearnsto step back into our old life when the three of us could spend a day together doing nothing at all.

‘Yeah,’ I say, then add, ‘But weirdly I miss them too.’

He shrugs. ‘I get it.’

‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ I try to gauge the amount of product in his hair. ‘Or boyfriend?’

Patrick doesn’t answer. Maybe he doesn’t hear. ‘We should probably get home. Michael’s finally flying in and he’ll probably be at your place by now.’

It takes me a beat to place the name. ‘Your brother, Michael?’

‘The very same.’

‘What’s he like?’ I vaguely remember a brown-haired man gyrating on the dance floor at Felix and Elena’s wedding, but my memory can’t fill in his facial features.

‘You’ll love him. Everyone does.’ Patrick nods his head down the street. ‘Bus stop’s that way. Should we go?’

‘Uh, sure. Shouldn’t we arrive home separately, though?’’