Page 89 of A Murder is Going Down

Patrick grins and it’s almost enough to make me forget about all those pesky secrets he’s keeping from me. ‘You’re right, what an opportunity to experience everything Perth has to offer: from scrubbing toilets to clearing out wardrobes.’

‘Hold on, aren’t you the one thinking about moving here?’

Patrick shakes his head but doesn’t get to say anything because Aunty Sam jumps in. I hadn’t realised she was listening.

‘You’re moving to Perth, Patrick?’

‘I was thinking about it,’ he says.

‘Patrick actually flew over here just before Felix died to check out some unis,’ Elena says, and I don’t think I imagine her glance at me.

I nearly let it go, but why would I? ‘You went to see multiple unis? I thought it was just for a UWA open day?’

‘That’s right,’ Patrick says quickly. ‘But I did a little unofficial tour of some others while I was here.’

‘That’s what I meant,’ Elena says. ‘There’s even some pretty good practically-on-campus accommodation at UWA. It’d be like boarding school.’

‘Boarding schools always seemed so chic and European to me as a kid,’ Aunty Sam says a little dreamily. ‘Heidi, are you sure you don’t want to go back to Switzerland? I’m sure the school could make it happen.’

‘I’m sure.’ Ireally, reallyam.

‘How long were you supposed to stay?’ Michael asks me from the front seat.

‘Another month or so.’

‘Heidi’s dipshit best friend, Lilia, was supposed to be with her, but instead she hooked up with Heidi’s ex,’ Patrick says helpfully.

‘Patrick!’ Elena says.

‘Sorry about my brother,’ Michael says.

‘Me too,’ I say, even if I kind of enjoyed Patrick calling Lilia a dipshit. I wish I’d recorded him, so I could play it back the next time I think about replying to one of her messages.

‘ThatLilia,’ Michael says, putting the pieces together. ‘She seemed nice.’

‘Not what Heidi needs to hear, bro,’ Patrick says, winking at me. Maybe it’s because we’re squished into the back seat together or the fact that I can smell that he’sstillusing my goddamn shampoo, but the urge to be back on the same team as Patrick is almost overwhelming. For a moment, it feels like the air’s been taken from my lungs and I need to remind myself to breathe.

‘We’re here,’ Elena says.

I breathe in. I’m fine.I’m fine.

Inside, Elena gives instructions about what needs to be packed up (almost everything) and what can be binned (almost nothing). Patrick and I are assigned the task of boxing up Felix’s clothes. We talk about everything but Felix while sorting pants and shorts and too many t-shirts into boxes marked CHUCK and DONATE. Patrick tells me about his friends back in Melbourne, and how they’re all a bit too into gaming for his taste. I tell him about how much I’m dreading going back to school, where I’m used to spending every lunch and recess with Lilia and Ben.

‘You’ll make new friends,’ Patrick says, like it’s as easy as breathing.

‘Will I, though? I haven’t had to make a new friend in years.’

‘What about me?’ Patrick asks and when I look up from Felix’s alarmingly large band t-shirt collection, he’s grinning at me.

‘I think of you more as my nemesis,’ I say, throwing Felix’s favourite Wilco t-shirt at his head to avoid a serious response. The yellow cloth, so bright it’s practically fluoro, lands on his face, so I don’t have to look at it.

I don’t intentionally go snooping.

It’s just that when I go to the bathroom an hour later, the door to Felix’s study is open. Nobody is inside. There’s an unlocked filing cabinet sitting right there (Felix was old-school about paperwork). I’m not immune to temptation.

I find a folder on Aunty Sam’s house immediately and experience an ethical crisis that lasts ten seconds. Then I read it.

At first, it’s anticlimactic. Nothing in the folder tells me anything I don’t already know or suspect: Felix and Aunty Sam jointly owned the house, blah, blah, blah, fixed-rate mortgage, blah, blah, blah. Then – aha! – I find a piece of paper with a list of real estate agents and phone numbers next to them. And, finally, a report about recent valuations in Mount Lawley, a suburb so gentrified it has two rival organic wine bars. This might all mean nothing, but it could suggest that Felix was thinking about selling. That would give Aunty Sam a reason to be mad with him.