The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club #3)(61)

‘Can I ask you something, as a pal?’ says Stephen, eyes not leaving the chessboard.

‘Whatever you need,’ says Bogdan.

‘It’s a ridiculous one,’ says Stephen. ‘Just to warn you.’

‘I am used to this already,’ says Bogdan. ‘You’re a ridiculous man.’

Stephen is nodding, and looking between his pieces and Bogdan’s, looking for avenues that aren’t there. He speaks without looking up. ‘Am I all right, do you suppose?’

Bogdan waits a beat. They have had this conversation before. Variations of it at least. ‘No one is all right. You’re OK.’

‘If you say so,’ says Stephen, eyes still avoiding contact. ‘But something is muddled somewhere. Something isn’t straight. You know the feeling?’

‘Sure, I know the feeling,’ says Bogdan.

‘Here’s a for instance,’ says Stephen, and then waits a moment. ‘I don’t know where Elizabeth is today.’

‘She’s gone to a TV show,’ says Bogdan. ‘With Joyce.’

‘Ah, I met Joyce,’ says Stephen. ‘The other day. Where does she know Elizabeth from?’

‘She’s a neighbour,’ says Bogdan. ‘She’s very nice.’

‘That came across,’ agrees Stephen. ‘But even so. Queer that I didn’t know where Elizabeth was? Unusual?’

Bogdan shrugs. ‘Maybe she didn’t tell you? She likes her secrets.’

‘Bogdan.’ Stephen finally looks up. ‘I’m not a fool. Well, no more than any of us. I miss things from time to time, people don’t quite make the sense they did.’

Bogdan nods.

‘My father, God rest him, lost himself towards the end. In those days they said he went doolally – probably that’s not what we say these days.’

‘I don’t think we do,’ agrees Bogdan.

‘“Where’s your mother?” he would ask me sometimes.’ Stephen moves a piece on the board. A holding move, nothing risked, nothing gained. ‘Only, my mother had died, many years previously.’

Bogdan is looking down at the board now. Let Stephen talk. Only answer a question if one is asked.

‘So, you see,’ says Stephen, ‘why it might worry me that I don’t know where Elizabeth is today?’

OK, that sounds like a question. Bogdan looks up. ‘Some things we remember, Stephen, and some things we forget.’

‘Hmm,’ says Stephen.

‘The first time I ever thought I was in love,’ says Bogdan. He has been thinking about this recently. ‘You know, when it makes you sick …’

‘Don’t I just,’ says Stephen.

‘It was a girl from school, we were nine, in Mr Nowak’s class. She sat in front of me and to the left, and she would arrange her pencils so neatly. When she wrote, the tip of her tongue poked between her lips. She lived on the next street from mine, and sometimes we would walk home together, when I could make it happen, and she had silver buckles on her shoes, so she didn’t like to go in puddles. I liked to go in puddles, but when I walked with her I would pretend I didn’t. I was sick, Stephen, sick. Her father was in the air force, and they sent him overseas, so she left school, didn’t even say goodbye, because she didn’t know we were in love – why would she? But I still remember how I felt, still remember how she smelled, her laugh, all these tiny details. I remember them all.’

Stephen smiles. ‘You old romantic, Bogdan. What was her name?’

Bogdan raises his eyes from the board, and raises his hands in a slow shrug. ‘We all forget things, Stephen.’

Stephen smiles, and nods. ‘Very clever. But you would tell me? You would tell me if something was up? I can’t ask Elizabeth. I don’t want to worry her.’

Again, Stephen has asked Bogdan this question a number of times. And Bogdan always answers in the same way.

‘Would I tell you? Honestly, I don’t know. What would you do, if it was someone you loved?’

‘I suppose if I felt it would help, then I would tell them,’ says Stephen. ‘And if I felt it wouldn’t help, then I wouldn’t tell them.’

Bogdan nods. ‘I like that. I think that is right.’

‘But you think I’m all right? A bit of fuss over nothing?’

‘That’s exactly what I think, Stephen,’ says Bogdan, and moves one of his pawns further up the board.

Stephen stares at the board. ‘But it leads me to another question. A worse question.’

‘We have all day,’ says Bogdan.

‘Is Elizabeth OK?’

‘Sure,’ says Bogdan. ‘I mean, Elizabeth is never OK, you know. But she is well.’

‘She was in a tizz,’ says Stephen. ‘The other night. She was talking about a library and a Viking, making no real sense, and when I questioned her about it, she took herself off. Dose of the waterworks, which she tried to cover up. Very unlike her. What’s that, do you think?’

‘Doesn’t ring a bell at all?’ asks Bogdan.

‘Good question actually,’ says Stephen, making his next move. ‘The question of the day, I’d say. “The Viking” – your guess is very much as good as mine, but the library. I didn’t think about it at the time, but I have been in a library recently. I’m sure I hadn’t told Elizabeth about it though.’