Page 97 of A Murder is Going Down

‘What?’ I ask.

‘I changed my mind,’ she says quickly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I heard voices and realised they must be having a party. I also realised how wild it was to turn up without any warning. So, I went back to my car, thinking that I’d call him in the morning instead and we could talk it out like adults. Obviously, that never happened.’

It’s an explanation that fits what I know about that night. Kind of. So why do I still feel like there’s something Aunty Sam isn’t saying? Or is this what happens when you spend your time being suspicious of everyone?

‘Heidi,’ she says. ‘I’m asking you to drop this. I don’t think this is a road you want to go down. Felix is dead. You need to grieve for him and move on and stop this amateur detective business. Patrick and Michael are going home tomorrow and Elena will move out with her friend and I think it’s important for you to put this behind you.’

‘But …’ I start to tell Aunty Sam about Patrick’s luggage tag and the conversation I heard him have with Elena. Then I stop. Call it misguided loyalty, but I don’t want Aunty Sam to look at them differently, not if there might be an innocent explanation. ‘Haruto!’ I blurt. ‘He says he saw someone out there that night. Don’t you think that’s significant?’

‘Has Haruto told the police?’ Aunty Sam asks.

‘I don’t think so,’ I admit. ‘He didn’t seem completely sure it was a person.’

‘So it might have been nothing,’ she says gently. ‘I don’t want to see you waste your time on this when you should be thinking about getting back to school and patching things up with Lilia.’

‘I can’t let this go,’ I say.

‘Heidi …’ Aunty Sam turns on the hose and starts watering the seedlings. It feels like she’s avoiding my eyes. ‘There’s something else. I’ve wanted to tell you this, but I’m not really sure—’

The sound of the back flywire door banging in its frame surprises us both and we look up to see Patrick. ‘Hey,’ he says. His grin disappears when he realises he’s walked in on something and he looks like he’d moonwalk back inside if he could. ‘I was … wondering if anyone was up for pizza for dinner later? Michael’s going to order.’

‘Sure,’ Aunty Sam says, dropping the hose and pulling off the cute gingham gardening gloves that (obviously) match her headscarf. She’s clearly grateful for the interruption. ‘In fact, I might go and wash my hands now. Heidi, we can talk later?’

It’s a question but not a question, because she’s already halfway inside.

‘How’s the packing going?’ I ask Patrick while trying to work loose the dirt under my nails.

‘It’s a red-eye flight tomorrow,’ he says.

‘So?’

‘I’ll think about starting in, I don’t know, twenty-four hours?’

‘You’re terrible. Have you got any plans for your last day in Perth?’

I try not to make my eyes too pleading and keep my lips shut tight so the phrasehang out with mecan’t squeeze its way out.

‘Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come to Elena’s? The op shop is sending a truck around to pick up the boxes, but someone has to be there to let them in and show them what to take. I thought you might want to do your part to make some tragic Wilco fan happy. Maybe after, we could get some lunch? Are those carrots?’

Patrick’s examining the new vegetable patch when he says this, so he doesn’t see what happens to my face.

T-shirts.

Wilco.

Felix.

Another puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing thunks into place so hard that I feel it. My knees wobble. I don’t see it yet. I can’tquitesee it yet, but for the first time I think I might know – not just suspect, butknow–that my brother was murdered.

Now

‘This story doesn’t sound a little bit familiar?’ I ask.

‘Is it supposed to?’ Marianne answers with a question.