Page 29

Nova

Nova began to charge up the creaking stairs, the scream still echoing in her ears.

“Phyllis, where are you?” she shouted as she reached a small hallway at the top. There were two doors, one open and one closed, and Nova crossed to the open door and peered inside.

The curtains were drawn, and the room was so dark she could make out little more than vague shapes inside. There was what looked like a single bed at the far side of the room and a figure was standing at the end of it, their back to the doorway, but in the gloom, Nova couldn’t tell who it was. They had an arm raised above their head, as if they were about to strike something or someone on the other side of the bed. Nova ran across the room.

“Stop!” she shouted as she grabbed the raised arm.

Immediately, the person swung round and Nova saw it was Phyllis.

“What are you…”

Nova stopped as Phyllis’s eyes swung back toward the bed. When Nova followed them, she saw a man cowering on the floor on the other side, his hands raised to protect himself from Craddock, who appeared to be trying to lick him to death.

“What the hell did you do to him?”

“I didn’t touch him!” Phyllis snapped. “I just walked in here and he took one look at me, screamed and jumped behind the bed.”

Nova leaned forward and grabbed Craddock’s collar, hauling him off.

“Michael, are you okay?” she asked, but he didn’t look up. “It’s all right, it’s only us: Nova and Phyllis from the St. Tredock Book Club.”

At the mention of their names, the man let out a low whimper.

“For goodness’ sake, we need some light in here.” Phyllis strode to the window, pulling back the thick curtain.

Sunlight burst in through the broken pane of glass and Nova could finally see Michael properly. He didn’t appear to be injured, but when he raised his head, she saw his face was pale, a layer of graying stubble over his chin. His eyes flicked between Nova and Phyllis, wide with alarm.

“Michael, are you here alone?”

He nodded but didn’t speak.

“What on earth happened to you? Are you okay?”

“I’m a bit hungry.” His voice was a rasp, as if he hadn’t used it in days.

“I’ve got some biscuits.” Phyllis rummaged in her bag and pulled out a packet of Rich Teas, which she held toward Michael. The man tentatively reached out, not looking at Phyllis as he took them. He opened the packet and stuffed a biscuit in his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed it and took another one. Craddock shuffled nearer to eat the crumbs that fell on the floor.

“Slow down or you’ll be sick,” Nova said.

“I have some water too,” Phyllis said, producing a plastic bottle.

Michael grabbed it and took several long gulps until the thing was empty. Then he leaned back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes as he caught his breath.

“Right, now you’ve had something to eat, it’s time to start talking,” Phyllis said. “The police think you committed murder and then ran away with the stolen money, but we know that’s not the truth. Is this all Cynthia’s doing, and she’s been holding you here against your will?”

“What?” Michael croaked.

“There’s no point trying to lie to us. You can’t protect Cynthia now.”

“Phyllis, slow down a minute,” Nova said, elbowing the woman before she could launch into any more accusations. “Michael, did you come here alone, or did someone bring you?”

“Alone.”

“So, you weren’t kidnapped, then?” Phyllis interjected.

“No!” Michael looked at Nova. “Why would she ask that?”

“So, you’re saying you came here willingly,” Phyllis said, and Nova could see the woman recalibrating her theory as she spoke. “Are you hiding out here because of the murder?”

“What murder?” He looked at Nova imploringly. “What the hell is she talking about?”

“Don’t play naive,” Phyllis said. “You know as well as I do that either you or Cynthia killed your mother the night you ran away.”

Finally, Michael looked at Phyllis, his face twisted with confusion. “My mother?”

“Was it you? You clearly have mummy issues, given your rant in the book club. Or was it Cynthia in order to get her hands on the inheritance?”

“My mum…Mum’s dead?” Michael blinked several times and then Nova watched as his face slowly crumpled. A second later, a rumbling moan escaped from his mouth.

“Oh God,” Nova hissed, turning to Phyllis. “He didn’t know!”

Phyllis was staring at him, her nose wrinkled. “He’s acting.”

Nova looked back to Michael, whose head had dropped onto his knees, his whole body racking with sobs.

“Michael, are you okay?”

In response, he let out another wail of grief. Nova crouched down so she was at his level, but didn’t say anything else, allowing the man to cry. This wasn’t an act, surely? He seemed genuinely distraught at the news. Up close, Nova could smell a strange, sour odor coming off his body. Was he having some kind of mental health episode, and he’d completely blanked out killing his own mother? If so, they should treat him with extreme caution, as goodness knows what he might do. Behind her, she could feel Phyllis’s toe tapping on the floor, and Nova glared at her.

Finally, the man’s sobs subsided, although he kept his face buried in his knees.

“Michael?” Nova said gently, and he jolted, as if he’d forgotten they were there. He looked up at her, his face wet from the tears.

“Is she really dead?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“When?”

“Last Wednesday; the day you came to our book club.”

“And what day is it today?”

“Friday, October 25th.”

She watched Michael do the mental calculations and then fresh tears started to stream down his cheeks. “She died nine days ago?”

“Do you really expect us to believe you didn’t know? When you were overheard having a raging argument with your mother just minutes before she died?” Phyllis’s voice was hard, and Nova saw Michael blanch.

“I swear I didn’t know,” he whimpered. “And you said…murdered?”

“That’s what the police think. They also think you’re the prime suspect.”

“What?” His eyes were wide again.

“You’re in debt, aren’t you, Michael?” Phyllis said. “And you were trying to force your mum to sell her house and give you the money. Is that why you killed her?”

“Oh my God, of course I didn’t!”

“So, are you telling us that Richard’s lying, and you didn’t fight with your mum about money the night she died?”

“He’s not lying, but it’s not what you think. I’d never kill my mum; I love her!”

He looked so desperate that Nova truly wanted to believe him. “I’m sure you did, Michael, but you have to admit it doesn’t look great. You were overheard arguing, you ran out of the house around the same time the police believe she was killed, you came to our book club covered in blood and then you disappeared for nine days.”

“Oh Jesus,” he said with a groan. “It’s not how it looks.”

“Then how is it, Michael?” Phyllis demanded. “What possible explanation can you have for what happened?”

For a moment he didn’t reply, rubbing his hands over his exhausted face, and Nova found herself willing Michael to have a decent explanation for the events of last Wednesday.

“My mum and I did have an argument,” he said eventually. “She’d just learned something—something I’d been trying to protect her from—and she was furious with me. It was a horrible fight and we both said some terrible things. Things I deeply regret, especially now…”

He trailed off, and for a moment Nova thought he was going to start crying again. He ran a hand over his face before he carried on.

“I’ve been having a difficult time lately, and that argument was the last straw. I knew I needed to get away for a bit, so I threw some things in a bag and ran out of the house. But my mum was alive when I left, I swear.”

Phyllis let out a loud snort. “So, tell me, if that’s true, then how do you explain the blood on your shirt when you came to our book club?”

“I had a nosebleed. I get them when I’m stressed.”

“Then what about the fact you ran out of the meeting after ten minutes and haven’t been seen or heard from since?”

Michael visibly swallowed. “I received a text message with some news—bad news—and it was all too much. I jumped in the car and came straight here.”

“Except you didn’t come straight here, did you?” Phyllis said. “You drove to Bodmin Moor and then abandoned your car in order to hide your whereabouts from the police.”

“My car broke down! The gear box has been playing up for ages and I kept meaning to get it fixed, only with everything that was going on I never got round to it. It finally gave up near Bodmin, so I walked to the nearest town and then caught a bus, a train and then two more buses.”

“And you’re trying to tell us you’ve been—what?—having a nice little holiday here ever since, completely oblivious to the fact your mother’s been murdered and you’re the prime suspect?”

Michael let out a long sigh. “When you put it like that, I know it sounds suspicious. But I just really needed to get away from it all: my mum and Cynthia and all the pressures at home. I’ve barely left this cottage since I arrived and there’s no electricity so I couldn’t charge my phone. I only intended to stay for a few days, but I guess I lost track of time.”

As he said this, Michael looked around him at the bedroom, its stone walls slick with moss and a layer of salt on every surface.

“I used to come here every summer with my parents. It was so idyllic, just us and the sea. It was like something out of that book.”

“What book?” Nova asked.

“The Crawdads one, from your book club. When I was reading about that girl living in the wild with nothing but nature, it reminded me of this place. I hadn’t thought about it for years, but that night in the book club, I suddenly knew I wanted to come back again. I’ve even been trying to repair it a bit, so I could bring Mum again…” He trailed off, and Nova could see the realization dawning on him that that would never happen.

“You must think we were born yesterday,” Phyllis said. “You’re going to need to come up with a considerably better story when the police come to arrest you. And we’ve not even started on the stolen money.”

“What stolen money?” Michael was looking at Nova again. “Please, my head hurts and I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Someone stole ten grand from the community center the night you ran away. In your absence, you’ve become the number one suspect for that as well.”

“Oh shit!” He put his hands up to his face again, shaking his head.

“Why else did you come to the book club, if not to steal the money?” Phyllis demanded. “And if you try to tell me it’s because you like reading then I’ll know for sure you’re lying.”

“No, it wasn’t that,” Michael said from behind his hands.

“Well, why did you come, then?”

Michael didn’t reply, his whole body hunched over like a child trying to hide. The poor thing, it was clear he was having some kind of nervous breakdown. Nova glanced at Phyllis, but the woman’s face was hard. From far below them, she heard the sound of a wave crash against the rocks.

“We need to get outside; this building’s not safe. Can you stand up, Michael?”

He didn’t move.

“Phyllis, can you help me get him up? I think we need to take him to a hospital, he’s clearly in shock.”

Phyllis grunted and stepped forward to take one of Michael’s arms. But as soon as she touched him, he shrieked and recoiled.

“Come on, Michael. We need to get you out of here,” Nova said.

“You can’t hide here forever,” Phyllis said. “Either you or your wife killed your mother, and whichever of you it was deserves to go to prison for a very long time.”

“It wasn’t either of us,” Michael moaned.

“I told you, there’s no point trying to protect Cynthia,” Phyllis said. “Are you aware your wife’s been having an affair? She even hired a PI who’s been investigating you.”

“What?” Michael looked up from his hands and his face had gone even paler. “What private investigator?”

“A man called Graham Pierce. We thought Cynthia might have paid him to kidnap you, but now it seems that theory was incorrect. But she was certainly paying him to do something related to you, as the man has a computer file with your name on it.”

“Oh God!” Michael said with a low groan.

“We have a copy of the file back in St. Tredock, so as soon as we can get into it, we’ll know exactly what Cynthia’s been up to.”

“Please, no…” The man had started to visibly shake.

“Michael, are you okay?” Nova said. “You need to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.”

“You can’t see them!”

“See what?” Phyllis said.

“The photos.”

“What…” Nova stopped. “Hang on, how do you know there are photos in the PI’s folder?”

Michael’s eyes were roaming the room now, looking everywhere but at her and Phyllis. “It wasn’t meant to happen like this,” he muttered to himself. “Not here.”

“What are you talking about? What isn’t meant to happen here?”

“I can’t do it here…It’s all wrong.”

Michael had a strange intensity in his eyes. An intensity Nova had seen once before, with Declan. She felt a cold stab of fear.

“Michael, please try to keep calm.” As she said the words, Nova began to slowly back away from the man, trying to nudge Phyllis toward the door. “Just take deep breaths, you’re going to be—”

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence, as at that moment Michael leaped to his feet and hurled himself at Phyllis.