Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(45)

‘Sounds like you care more about Tessa than you do Melody.’

Again, he grimaces. ‘If I admit to filming Maya, what happens to me?’

‘You’ll be convicted of voyeurism and put on the sex offenders’ register.’

‘Will I go to prison?’

‘The maximum sentence is two years, but if you cooperate and if you haven’t disseminated the footage—’

‘I wiped the files.’

‘What about footage from the night of the murder?’

‘All gone.’

‘That’s a shame,’ I say. ‘You might have been able to do a deal.’

Dean seems to weigh up this information. His thoughts are self-serving, and he cares more about his own fate than Melody, or Tessa, or Maya for that matter. There is a long silence during which we watch police officers carrying bags of his clothes from the house.

‘I’ve always fancied Maya, you know – the other sister. The forbidden fruit. I used to wonder if everything else was the same, you know. Underneath. Naked.’

My stomach churns.

‘Maya was the naughty one, the sexy one. Melody was nice and neat and polite, but she never really did it for me, not in the sack. Know what I mean?’

You’re an arsehole, I want to say, but I keep listening in the hope that he might say something incriminating or less self-serving.

‘When did you start filming Maya?’ I ask.

He acts surprised. ‘Me? I didn’t film her.’

‘You just said you wiped the files.’

‘Which means you have no proof.’

‘We have the broken cameras.’

‘No idea what you’re talking about.’

He smiles, thinking he’s so clever.

‘Are you going to give me Tessa’s name?’

‘Will you keep her out of it?’

‘I can’t make that sort of deal.’

‘Well, find me someone who can.’





30


Evie


Elias is late. Rampton called and said his transport was delayed, making him sound like a package they’re delivering. Cyrus has been walking from room to room, adjusting a book on a shelf, or a photograph in a frame. Now he’s checking the fridge.

‘Are you nervous?’ I ask.

‘No.’ He shuts the fridge door. ‘A little.’

‘Do you like him?’

‘He is my brother.’

‘Yeah, that’s a given, but do you like him? You don’t have to. There’s no rule. At Langford Hall there were kids who had shitty brothers and sisters.’

‘It’s not about liking him,’ says Cyrus. ‘I’m the closest family he has left.’

‘Whose fault is that?’

Cyrus gives me a look.

‘It’s what my parents would do,’ he says. ‘They’d want me to forgive him and help him make something of his life.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Elias is still young. Not even forty. He could go on to lead a good life. Surely that’s better than having him die in a psychiatric hospital.’

‘That was his punishment.’

‘It was never meant to be that.’ Cyrus leans against the kitchen bench. ‘Schizophrenia is a mental illness.’

‘What causes it?’

‘Nobody knows for certain. Most likely it’s a combination of genetics, environment and altered brain chemistry.’

‘Can you catch it?’

‘No.’

‘You said genetics – does that mean you could get it?’

‘Yes.’

‘How would I know?’

‘My behaviour would change. My thoughts and speech would be disorganised. I’d become isolated and lose touch with people.’

‘You do that now.’

‘Very funny.’

‘What if Elias hasn’t changed?’

‘He has. He’s a lot different.’

‘But people can be born bad, can’t they? Under the wrong sign.’

‘I don’t believe in signs or omens or fate. I stick to the science.’

A horn toots and I watch from the library window as a van pulls up and Cyrus opens the front door and waves. I’ve seen photographs, but I didn’t expect Elias to be so fat. Not obese, but just big all over, with a double chin and blotchy skin and a terrible haircut. He’s wearing baggy jeans and a sweater that stretches over his midriff.

Two hospital orderlies are with him, black guys who are built like bouncers and move like basketball players.

Cyrus and Elias embrace. It’s not the most convincing hug, but I guess they’re out of practice. Soon they’re into the kitchen, talking about the weather and the drive into Nottingham.

‘So many new buildings,’ says Elias. ‘You’ll have to take me on a tour.’

The senior orderly is Roland, and his colleague is Oscar, and they look more like brothers than Elias and Cyrus. Oscar makes me think of Oscar Wilde because I’m reading The Importance of Being Earnest as one of my English texts.

Five people make the kitchen feel small.

‘You don’t have to stay,’ says Cyrus, who is smiling more than usual.