put everything on the Net. Do you understand? Everything. There is someone else who knows. Tell him to speak to the Americans, let them know that. Someone else. Get Elworthy if you have to…”
There is a brief silence, and then I can hardly believe what happens.
The woman says, “I will be sure to give Mr. Lithiby that message on Monday morning.”
And she replaces the handset.
I stand in the phone booth holding the receiver and there is nothing left to do. I press Redial, but the line is now busy. I try Hawkes again at both numbers, but it is pointless. He is still engaged, town and country. Caccia will be the same, Sinclair also. I do not know how to reach Elworthy. I push open the door of the phone booth and go outside.
They had no intention of striking a deal with the Americans. They do not even know that I have threatened to expose them. The Americans have no idea what is at stake.
This is what they have decided on. To ignore Milius, to exclude him until he is taken out of the equation. They are counting on the Americans. Counting on a shared understanding. A special relationship.
Saul must be told what has happened. They have to realize that there is someone else who knows. That is the only way. And yet to tell him is to place him in danger. To tell him is to make him into another Kate.
Walking back up the hill, I can see a light on in his house. Saul’s bedroom. He may still be awake.
When I get upstairs he is slumped in an armchair, still fully dressed, but asleep.
I close the door and walk back downstairs to the kitchen. My laptop computer is in a plastic bag on the backseat of the car. I find Saul’s keys, go outside, and take it out.
Then, at the kitchen table, I begin to write everything down.
At nine Saul comes downstairs, saying that he has managed a few hours of sleep. I am standing by the sink.
“How about you?” he asks, glancing at the computer and frowning. He is wearing a different shirt.
“I’ve just been thinking about things. I can’t seem to remember anything about Kate. I’m trying to summon up memories, but they’re just not there.”
He nods, still unsure of how to look at me.
“Maybe it’s too early,” he says.
“I can’t seem to picture or recall anything we did together. All I keep thinking about is her mum and dad, and William’s parents. Did you ever meet him?”
“A couple of times.”
“It just seems so long ago now. Two years since we split. She had a whole life that I knew nothing about. It’s as if I was a different person back then.”
He does not answer.
I had boiled the kettle shortly before he woke up, and he makes himself a coffee, going out onto the drive with the mug.
This is probably the best time. When he’s outside. Still early in the day.
Always where Saul is concerned there has been this conflict in me between doing what is necessary and expedient, and what I feel is right. Always I have been trying to suppress my more calculating instincts in order to behave as would a good and loyal friend.
But it is hopeless. I am so inured to moral consequence that I do not even consider whether he will forgive me. I simply walk outside into the gathering light and open the driver’s door on the car. Reaching inside, I switch on the radio, tuning it to the nearest station.
“What are you doing?” he asks gently.
“It’s necessary,” I reply, and Saul looks bewildered. A song is playing and I turn up the volume, leaving the door of the car open.
“What do you mean, ‘It’s necessary’?”
I have to keep him out of the house, in case they have had it wired.
“Don’t go back inside for a bit, okay? And don’t get too close to the car.”
“Alec, turn it down, what are you…?”
“I know what happened to Kate. I know why they were killed last night.”
“But we both…”
He starts to reply but then stops, putting the mug of coffee down. Saul looks up at me, his face suddenly altered by fear.
I move a step closer to him. I want to lay a hand on his shoulder, to assure my friend that everything is going to be all right. And then I say, “There are things that I have to tell you.”
