Page 59 of A Murder is Going Down

‘That’s it?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Patrick says. He seems to mean it, which only makes the entire situation more frustrating.

We both hear the front door bang, followed by Michael’s booming voice, and stand up.

‘Sorry,’ Patrick says again. And heleaves. This is particularly nonsensical, because we’re inhisroom.

I go back to my bedroom and do something really stupid. But it’s not my fault.

I’m angry. Not in my right mind. I shouldn’t be operating heavy machineryorbe allowed access to my mobile in this state.

Yeah, yeah. I message Lilia back.

How do you know that?

The dots appear almost immediately, and it pings sooner than I expect.

I checked his phone and when I asked, he said it was a silly argument he couldn’t even remember.

Clearly, Lilia, like me, thinks that sounds like BS, because she adds three poo emojis.

I sit on the end of my bed and stare at my phone. Ben deleting Felix’s message feels more suspicious than the message itself, but what am I going to do about it? If I was a computer hacker, I could steal his phone and recover the messages. Probably. If I was a spy, I could waterboard it out of him. Possibly. But I am a fifteen-year-old with nothing but suspicions, a lot of free time and a three-speed bike.

What do you think about Aunty Sam being at the house that night

I hit send on my text before the part of my brain in charge of stopping me from making bad decisions can step in.

A ping. Somewhere, Lilia is holding her phone in her hand, watching those dots.

Have you asked her about it yet?

No

I hesitate. Not sure whether to add the next bit. But it’s not like Lilia and I don’t both know what we’re talking about. I send a second message:

No reason to hurt Felix tho

Another pause and I send a third one.

Felix owned part of Aunty Sam’s house

I can see the three dots forming and reforming. It’s a long one. Sure enough, Lilia’s perfectly composed message,with every bit of punctuation where it’s supposed to be arrives …

Wow! What do you think that means? How did you find out about it?

And then:

What if Felix had wanted to sell the house?

I look at Lilia’s message, re-reading it while my stomach flops back and forth like a newbie sailor on a maiden sea voyage. I know what Lilia’s asking: if Felix had wanted to sell the house, Aunty Sam might have been forced to sell if she couldn’t afford to buy him out. Did Felix only give her money for the deposit or was he paying off the mortgage too? Would it make a difference to his legal rights if he had been? Here’s something I never thought I’d say: I wish I knew more about Western Australian property law.

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Aunty Sam and I guiltily put my phone facedown a moment after Lilia sends me a ?? text.

‘Are you getting peckish?’ Aunty Sam asks. ‘Michael got something at the bakery.’

I get off my bed. ‘Sure.’ I’m not hungry, but I have an ulterior motive.

‘This is a weird question,’ I say, following Aunty Sam to the kitchen, ‘but why were you at Felix and Elena’s house the night Felix died?’