“They stuck together pretty well, those kids,” Wilkinson went on, brooding. “It was a united front. Which in itself might be quite damning.”
Jonah didn’t argue, but he was thinking that there might be other things to hide than murder. Things that even thirty years on could be damaging. And the thought gave him another small twinge of anxiety.
He could almost hear the DCS thinking through the idea of accessing the phone records. It was his job to make sure that his department acted lawfully and justly, and stood up to external scrutiny. He would do everything he could to aid his investigators within that remit, but he would clamp down on anything that looked wrong to him.
“OK. I think phone records are justified. You won’t get anything from the time, but if there’s collusion going on now, you might see it.”
“Thank you,” Jonah said.
“Gut feeling so far?” the DCS asked.
“That it could take a while to untangle,” Jonah said with a half smile. “I can’t be any more specific at present.”
“Sitting on the fence, of course,” Wilkinson said, and added: “You’d probably better shelve your work with Portsmouth International for now. Unless anything happens, this is going to be our priority for the foreseeable.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, thinking of the weeks his team had put into the dockside investigation. But his heart was no longer in it anyway. He’d been drawn back into the enigma that was Aurora. He let himself out into the increasing buzz of CID.
* * *
—
TOPAZ’S PHONE RANG while she was still lying on Aurora’s bed. She saw that it was Coralie calling her, and considered ignoring it. But Coralie could be persistent. It was often easier just to get it over with.
She picked up the call, and said, “Hi, lovely,” in as normal a voice as she could manage.
“I’ve booked a train to Southampton,” Coralie said, as if this were a greeting. Her voice was tauter than usual. She sounded unhappy.
“Oh, really?”
“I’m going to stay at the Regent. Daddy often uses the suite there.”
Of course she was. It was in Coralie’s nature to choose the most of everything: the most expensive, the most extravagant, the greatest status. All of it enabled by her father, who was still Daddy even when he was eighty-five.
“What time do you get in? Connor and I can come and have a drink with you later, if you like,” she offered. At least she would be out of the house that way.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Coralie asked, ignoring the suggestion.
“What, lovely?”
“About Aurora being found.” There was a hint of hurt in Coralie’s voice.
“I’m sorry,” Topaz answered. She couldn’t seem to get any real emotion into her voice. “I hadn’t really stopped and thought yet….”
“But I could have come down last night,” Coralie said. “I could have been there to support you.”
“Yes, I know. I wish you had been.” There was a slight pause. “Have you talked to any of the others?”
“Yeah, I rang Benners.” Coralie let out a small sigh. “He kept saying he couldn’t talk about it. He sounded stressed out. I think the police are giving him a hard time.”
“God, not again,” Topaz said. “I’m just waiting for them to tear into Connor.”
“He’s the big professor now. They’ll be nice to him.”
“But they’ll be judging him on who he was, not who he is,” Topaz argued.
“Well, I guess he should have been less aggressive.”
“Coralie!” Topaz said sharply.
“You think I’m harsh with him,” she said, a little breathlessly. “But you know what he was like. You know. And he was obsessed with you.”
“No, he loved me,” Topaz said firmly.
“We all loved you!” Coralie countered. “And the rest of us used to matter. Now it’s all just him, always.”
“You all still matter,” Topaz replied. “If you feel like I’ve let you down, then I’m sorry. But talking about it now is not a good idea.”
The numbness was going, to be replaced by anger. Why was Coralie choosing now to say this? It was as if she had an instinct for Topaz’s most fragile time, and chose to attack.
“What is it he has over you?” Coralie asked, ignoring her response. “Why did it all change that night? Was there something that happened after we’d gone to sleep?”
“Fuck you, Coralie,” Topaz said, shaking with fury. “How fucking dare you? You…No, you know what? I’m done.”
She ended the call, and then hurled her phone at the wall. It bounced and landed on the pastel carpet, apparently unharmed.
“Fuck you!” she repeated. And then, as much out of fury as out of grief, she gave in to sobs that moved her whole body.
She heard someone walking up the stairs and down the landing to her room. She hoped they’d leave her to it.
But then there were steps toward the door, and her father’s voice outside it. “Topaz? Are you in there?”
He must have known she was. The noise of her crying would have been pretty audible.
When she said nothing, the door opened slowly.
“Go away,” she said, and turned away from him.
“Sorry,” Tom said, but he didn’t go straight away. He took a few steps, and put a hand briefly on her shoulder. “I’m here if you…if you need to talk. OK?”
Topaz kept her face away, but she nodded.
Tom left a few moments later. She heard him close the door, and only then did she crumple back onto the bed and bury her head in the pillow again.
Her phone buzzed once a little while later. She knew it was Coralie messaging. Topaz had a violent wish to have been harsher to her former friend. To have hurt her more. Coralie was probably apologizing, which was how it worked with Coralie. Her moments of angst never lasted.
Topaz picked up the phone to read her message.
It wasn’t an apology.
I’m going to talk to the police once I arrive. I think there are a lot of things they’d be interested to know.
She wanted to fling the phone away again, but instead she typed a message back with shaking hands.
You can say whatever you want. I don’t give a shit. They won’t believe your psycho stories.