‘What about Hydra? You were never there.’
‘No, I wasn’t. After I left the Elephant’s Head I got a cab to Mel’s flat in St John’s Wood.’
‘Mel’s?’
‘Yes. You saw her at my place last month, didn’t you? Well, I’d been seeing her for a while before that. On and off.’
‘I see.’
‘The police checked it out. She had a friend staying with her who saw me as well. I didn’t want to tell you this when you asked me, because... well, you can understand why.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘So I don’t have any idea who killed my father, or why.’
‘Might it have something to do with Dominique?’
‘Ah, Dominique,’ said Guy.
I waited.
‘I didn’t kill Dominique.’ He was definitely telling the truth this time. ‘Owen did.’
‘Owen did? But he was only fifteen!’
‘He was a big guy, even then,’ Guy said.
‘But why?’
‘He hated her. He was seriously messed up when my father walked out on us; you know that. He held Dominique responsible. That whole trip he became obsessed by her, the more he saw her the more he hated her. You remember he said he was always working on his portable computer?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, he wasn’t. Actually he spent a lot of time watching her.’
‘Which is when he saw her with the gardener.’
‘And you.’
I took a deep breath. Even after all these years the consequences of that half hour reached out to tear at me.
‘It tipped him over the edge,’ said Guy. ‘Not only had she stolen Dad away from us, but then she was cheating on him. He was angry. He watched her. Watched her fight with Dad. Watched Dad leave the house. Watched her shoot up with heroin. Watched her drink. Watched her finally pass out.’
‘Then what?’
‘He went into her room. He tried to talk to her. Tell her what he thought of her. I don’t know what he expected, whether he thought she’d just listen quietly to what he had to say and then let him go. But when she woke up and saw him, she was about to scream, so he put the pillow over her mouth. She tried to struggle. He kept it there. He kept it there a long time.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Then he left her.’
‘God. But it was your footprint, not Owen’s, they found.’
‘Owen knew he’d done something badly wrong. At the time, I don’t think he intended to kill her. I think he barely realized he had. I don’t know what was going through his head. But he wanted to talk to me. He woke me up. We went out into the garden and he told me all about what Dominique and you had done, about what a slut she was, about what an evil woman she was. I was shocked about you and her, but I thought Owen was just ranting. Which was strange for him, you know how little he likes to talk.
‘Then I realized he’d smothered her with the pillow. I rushed up to her room, climbed in through the balcony. Dad wasn’t there. But she was. Lying there, not moving, her face still under the pillow.’
Guy breathed heavily. There was sweat on his upper lip.
‘I looked for a pulse, but there wasn’t one. I had to take a decision there and then. I could either turn Owen in, or I could help him. I was shocked by what Dominique and you had done. I hated her too. And if Owen was screwed up enough to kill her, it was as a result of her actions. I know now it was all my father’s fault, but at the time I blamed her. I knew Owen had done wrong, but he was my brother and no one else was going to stand up for him if I didn’t.
‘So I crept back outside. Asked Owen exactly what he had touched. Came back and wiped it all down carefully with a cloth. I had to be quick; I had no idea when my father would get back. I took the pillowcase off the pillow. I grabbed the jewellery case to make it look as though a thief had been in there. I left through the balcony and dusted over our footprints, although I must have left one of mine. And then I went back to bed.’
‘I never noticed,’ I said.
‘You were out of it. Snoring. Loudly.’
‘Christ.’
Guy shrugged.
‘I’m amazed the police didn’t discover anything.’
‘I was careful,’ Guy said. ‘While they were focusing on Dad, I was safe. I knew they would figure out he was innocent pretty soon, and I needed to give them someone else to worry about. Which is why paying the gardener to disappear was such a good idea. But then I got a real scare when they found my footprint. I’m eternally grateful to you for getting me out of that one. I’ve never quite known why you did that.’
‘I didn’t believe you’d killed Dominique,’ I said. ‘I was still a schoolboy. I was helping my innocent friend against the authorities. Or at least, that was what I thought I was doing.’
‘Well, thanks, anyway. Without that explanation they’d have found it harder to blame Abdulatif.’
‘Whew.’ I thought through what Guy had just told me. Owen had killed Dominique. At the age of fifteen! I shuddered. ‘What happened to Abdulatif?’
‘He died on the streets of Marseilles. It’s a tough place.’
‘You don’t think Owen killed him?’
‘No. I’m sure he didn’t.’
‘Oh, come on! His death was so convenient. So timely. Just when the blackmail was beginning to really bite.’
Guy shrugged.
‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘I remember when Owen told us that Abdulatif had been murdered. It was just before we went to Mull. He’d been to visit your father in France.’
‘Hold on, Davo,’ Guy said, a note of anger in his voice. ‘I told you the whole truth just now, and I’m telling you the truth when I say Owen didn’t kill Abdulatif. Or Dad. I don’t think he really meant to kill Dominique. He was young then. And screwed up. He’s grown up now. He’s less impulsive. He’s straightened himself out.’
‘Huh.’ I wasn’t going to enter into an argument with Guy about Owen’s psychological well-being.
‘I mean it. He’s OK now. And I want you to leave him alone.’
‘Leave him alone?’
‘Yes. Leave him alone.’ Guy’s voice was firm. It was a command, not a request.
We were silent for a couple of minutes, as I absorbed what Guy had just told me.
‘So now you know,’ he said.
‘Now I know.’
‘But you won’t tell Ingrid, will you? Or Mel?’
I had given my word. I shook my head.
‘Or the police?’
I hesitated.
‘It wouldn’t matter too much if you did. I’d deny we’d had this conversation. It’s a long time ago in a foreign country and the case was closed to everyone’s satisfaction. There would be no point. Would there?’
I shook my head. ‘There wouldn’t.’
‘So will I see you at the office tomorrow morning?’
‘I don’t know.’
I lay in bed that night staring at the bands of light and shadow projected on to the ceiling by the streetlamps outside. I was shaken. Owen was a murderer. He had killed Dominique and I was pretty sure he had killed Abdulatif too. And Guy had helped him cover it up.
Guy had given himself all kinds of justifications at the time as to why Owen had done what he had done. None of those counted for anything with me. I believed Owen was screwed up, but I also believed he was responsible for his actions. Perhaps it was right for a big brother to cover up for his younger brother, I didn’t know. I couldn’t even begin to imagine being related to Owen. I was now exceedingly glad that he no longer worked for Ninetyminutes. But what about me? What should I do? Should I just ignore what I knew?
As a good citizen, I should tell someone. But I had also given my word. It was only on that basis that Guy had told me anything.
I thought of the practicalities. Who would I go to? Would anyone in the British police help me with a case that was thirteen years old? Perhaps I should call the police station in Beaulieu. I’d have to go there. I’d have to talk to French officials who might or might not have any interest in what I was saying. I would have to start my own personal crusade for justice.