The shadows in her eyes deepened again then, and the smile twisted as she forced a brief, ironic chuckle. ‘Bad choice of words — because in the end it doesn’t look like he got away with anything.’ The shadows sunk deeper still, hit something darker, more troubling. Raw fear, panic. ‘You see, ten days or so ago I read in the paper about George Jouliern disappearing. And I thought — Malastra’s found out about the skimming, and it’s only a matter of time before the knock comes on my own door and I’m next to go “missing”.’ Her neck pulsed as she swallowed hard. She held one palm out. ‘That’s why I got the gun from my mom’s. Not so much because of Gerry, but because I feared Malastra’s men would be coming for me.’
Jac nodded slowly. He understood now why she’d done it, probably too well. If in those last months of his father’s life there’d suddenly been a miracle cure, and at the same time someone had laid on a plate a clean, ingenious robbery to pay for it, with high chances of getting away with it, he’d have gone for it. No question.
He thought it’d be hard to beat his own nightmare dilemma; but hers, possibly on a Malastra hit-list, was equally as crushing. The mention of his father, though, reminded him: look to the positive. ‘How long now since you read about Jouliern disappearing? Ten days or so? Then another four or five days before he’d have been officially reported as missing. At least two weeks. If that knock was going to come on your door, it would have probably happened by now. Chances are Jouliern didn’t say anything about you — they just don’t know.’
‘Or they’re still putting all the pieces together.’
He could see that his words did little to lift the crushing worry from her shoulders, her eyes haunted, looking for solutions that weren’t there, her body trembling as she no doubt thought not just about her own neck, but how little Molly would possibly cope with her gone; Alaysha’s mother now with not many years left to be able to take care of her. He reached one hand out and lightly touched her arm, tried to lift her out of her dark mood.
‘Hey, come on… you know what I’ve said makes a lot more sense than any other scenario.’ Her eyes lifting a bit, a faint, reluctant smile. ‘But, you know, if you’re still worried — just try and keep one step ahead. Stay at your mom’s as much as possible, and when you’re in town, maybe stay at my place. I know it’s only next door — but you can look through the spy-hole and see if anyone suspect is calling at your door. Gives you that extra minute or two to get out or phone for the police, whatever.’
‘Thanks, I appreciate it. And I’ll probably take you up on that offer.’ She forced a tame smile, then let out a fresh breath. ‘But enough about me. What about you — the fugitive of the hour?’ Her expression became more solemn again. ‘How are you coping, Jac?’
‘Oh, God.’ Jac lifted his eyes heavenward for a second. ‘Where to even start?’ He tried to keep his explanation just to filling in the gaps in what Alaysha probably already knew from Langfranc or news bulletins, so that it wasn’t too rambling. He raised the first full smile from Alaysha as he described walking through Libreville earlier that day disguised as Ayliss, already sweating because he was nervous, and with the unbearable heat of the prison and the extra padding and make-up, it literally pouring off of him. ‘I feared the make-up would start running and half my face would come unstuck and start peeling off. I had to call Morvaun straight after: emergency pit-stop for face maintenance!’ Alaysha was by now openly laughing — it was good to see her like that, Jac thought: the problems hanging over them for a moment forgotten. ‘Morvaun in fact has to follow me round from hotel to hotel, giving me regular patch-ups.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Next one is here tomorrow at seven a.m., before I head out. Meanwhile, you’ll have to answer the door if room-service calls.’
She nodded, her smile fading as she became pensive again. ‘And how did it go with Durrant?’
He sighed heavily before explaining, the images from just over an hour ago burning fresh through his mind: the serge-green safe with a twist lock, just as it had been twelve years ago; apparently it would have been too much upheaval to have it moved or changed. The new owners seemed to remember the bookshelves being on the right-hand side, though the library now was just another bedroom, and the grandfather clock would have obviously been moved along with Roche’s other furniture and possessions, they pointed out. Though at that moment they suddenly recalled the sales brochure Roche’s realtor had done at the time, which they’d kept — and there it was proud in the corner on the hallway shot: a full-length walnut-cased grandfather clock.
Jac shook his head. ‘Everything… everything matched Larry’s descriptions from the session. Not a single thing wrong. And it hit me in that moment, Alaysha, harder than ever… he had to have been there that night. And all this crap with pool buddies and other places he might have been — I’m wasting my time. Have been from day one.’ Jac grimaced awkwardly. ‘Only I didn’t know it until now.’ Jac bit at his bottom lip, but this time as he went to shake his head, it seemed to lock, leave him transfixed, staring into mid-space. ‘And the thing is, I can’t blame or even get annoyed with Larry for it — because he simply can’t remember, doesn’t know whether he was there and killed her or not.’
‘It seems a shame to give up now… just when you’re so close. Only six days left.’
Jac let out a half laugh, half defeated sigh. ‘That’s the thing, Alaysha. I should have given up long ago… back when you told me to after almost drowning in the lake.’ Jac shrugged helplessly. ‘Certainly before now — on the run from a murder rap, life in tatters, not able to contact even my own family. My only escape walking around like an overweight wax doll, worried that half my face might melt off at any moment and people will start pointing… it’s him! It’s him!’ This time Jac’s smile was forced, pained. Alaysha knew that she wasn’t meant to join in.
Her eyes darted uncertainly for a second before she asked, ‘But I thought you had some guy with dance lessons for his kid that would have meant Durrant was definitely playing pool that night?’
Jac nodded. ‘Yeah, Bill Saunders. Though problems there, too. Larry remembered Saunders being there, which meant high chances that game was a Thursday night. But I called Saunders just before heading here, and he told me that once every month the dance teacher would change the day around. Then also a couple of times a year she’d close the classes for her holidays — one of which was always at Carnival time. In February.’ Jac grimaced. ‘Like so much else with Larry, hardly have you grabbed hold of it — the next moment it’s cruelly yanked away.’
Alaysha was thoughtful, the shadows back in her eyes, though from concern for him and Durrant this time rather than herself. ‘But what if you find something that convinces you he was innocent after the six days, when it’s too late — you’d never forgive yourself for giving up at the last moment. Especially with all you’ve been through.’
‘I know what you’re saying, Alaysha. But I’m tired, and I don’t know what else there is to find out. And there’s the real worry that I’ve been doing all this to try and free a guilty man.’ As Jac exhaled, it felt as if that breath was taking his last strength with it. ‘Every time I get up off from the canvas hoping that with the next punch I’ll hit something to convince me that Larry wasn’t there that night and didn’t do it — another blow comes to tell me that he was, knocks me back down again. And this time, Alaysha, I don’t know if I’ve got the strength to get back up.’
She reached out and gripped his arm then, lightly shaking, as if she might be able to inject some extra energy from herself into him. ‘But it’s only six days, Jac, and then you’ll know for sure. And if you still haven’t found anything and it looks as if Larry was there that night — at least then you’ll be able to tell yourself that you tried everything. Did all that you could.’