Page 56 of A Murder is Going Down

‘Just that Elena often came to work with bumps and bruises that she tried to hide. I’d wondered if Felix … had anything to do with that.’

I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

With his face tomato-red, Adam makes his escape. He’s halfway across the coffee shop when I remember something and jog after him.

‘Adam!’

He turns around, face wary. ‘Yeah?’

‘You weren’t having an affair with Elena,’ I start.

‘I really could not be more gay.’

‘But when you came over to Aunty Sam’s for the party, didn’t Elena tell you on the phone that it was too dangerous for you to come over?’

‘No. Was that the phone call you overheard?’

‘Yeah.’

‘All I can say is that it wasn’t me she was talking to.’

‘Thanks.’

We drive home in the car together. Nobody seems to want to talk and that suits me, because all I want to do is think. I think about why Felix seemed so determinedto charm Elena’s friends the night that he died. I think about why Aunty Sam never told us she was at Felix and Elena’s house earlier that night. I think about whether someone could have sabotaged the lift to distract everyone while they killed Felix. I think about who Elena was talking to when she told them not to come to Aunty Sam’s house. And, most of all, I think about whether there’s anyone in my life who isn’t keeping a secret. (Kind of no, honestly, but we’ll get there.)

Now

‘This is completely unacceptable!’ Marianne shouts into the intercom before storming back to the other side of the lift. Her breathing is fast again, either from claustrophobia or rage. (Was that vein in her forehead always there?) ‘Ten more minutes,’ Marianne says, stone-faced.

‘We can do that.’

‘Nope. Something else is going on here.’

‘Like what?’

‘That guy on the phone is stalling, like I said before. I know what professional stalling looks like. I do it all the time. That guy,’ she points at the intercom, ‘is not even good at it, which is insulting, honestly. He’s lying. I don’t know why. But I know he is trying to keep us in this lift forsome reason and keep us calm while doing it. He’s trying tomanageus.’

‘Even if that’s true, though, what can we do about it? We’ve already asked to talk to the building manager guy, your tennis buddy, Harold. What’s the next step?’

Marianne gives me a look that’s made of the same stuff as the lift, and something unpleasant runs up and down my spine.

‘Any ideas?’ I repeat, because Marianne is still staring at me, not saying anything.

Marianne nods slowly, like she’s made up her mind about something. Who she’s going to murder first the moment she gets out of this lift, possibly.

‘Actually, I’ve got an idea,’ she says. ‘But tell me the next bit while I think it through.’

Then

We’ve made it back to Aunty Sam’s. The first I know that Lilia has followed me out of the car is when she puts her hand on my arm and I jump.

‘I’ve got to talk to you about something,’ she says.

‘Your lips are moving. I think you might be doing it already.’

‘I’m serious. It’s about the message on Ben’s phone.’

‘Okay?’