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The police arrived at the same time as the ambulance and the room instantly became crowded. Deb and I moved to the table while Will stood at the periphery of the action, still rubbing his hands together. Within minutes the sense of urgency dissipated and I felt my stomach hollow. Deb had put on a pair of red-framed glasses and was scrolling through her phone, pausing every so often to tap rapidly against the screen with a stylus. I turned slightly, so that Sam was not even in my peripheral vision, and then picked up one of the sheets of paper spread across the table. It was the printout of a genealogical tree, with the tiny font almost impossible to read. I put it aside and picked up the one beneath, a copy of a marriage certificate for James Sheridan and Kata Dragovic dated 1867. I stared at it for a few minutes, startled.
‘Nell?’
I looked up and recognised the young policeman with some surprise. ‘Matthew! I didn’t realise it was you there.’
‘Quite understandable. I believe you were one of those who found the body. You okay?’
I nodded and turned to Deb, who was watching with some interest. ‘Deb, this is Constable Matthew Carstairs. He’s going out with my daughter.’
Matthew flushed. ‘Yes, that is … yes.’
‘What’ll happen next?’ Deb gestured towards Sam, who was now hidden from sight.
‘The coroner should be here shortly. She’ll take over.’
‘Heart attack?’
‘Not sure.’ Matthew removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair, revealing a decent V-shaped receding hairline. I wondered if Lucy realised that her boyfriend was going to be bald before he was thirty. ‘The coroner should be able to give us some idea. Listen, ladies, can I ask you a few questions? Just routine. Like what time did you find him?’
‘Eight fifty-six,’ said Deb briskly, checking her phone. ‘I unlocked the door with the master key.’
‘You were looking for him?’
‘Yes. I needed some paperwork and Nell had an appointment.’
‘Did you try to revive him? Touch anything else?’
I chimed in. ‘I took his pulse. Other than that …’ I paused, thinking. ‘Oh, the computer. He had his head on it.’
‘I moved his hand when his phone rang,’ added Deb. ‘It was underneath. But I didn’t answer it.’
A sturdy middle-aged woman entered, followed by a younger man who was carrying a plump briefcase. The woman headed straight for the ambulance officers, who began their report while she was still on the move, both stepping aside so that she had a complete view of Sam. I gazed at his slumped body, the one arm dangling, and remembered the feel of his flesh. My stomach constricted, sending a rush of bile upwards. I swallowed.
‘Sure you’re okay, Nell?’ asked Matthew, frowning.
‘Actually, no. I’m going to go and get some fresh air.’ I rose quickly, before he could respond, and moved to the door. One of the ambulance officers glanced at me sympathetically and just past him I could see the side of Sam’s face, his eye still half closed as if caught in a wink. Just joking. Did I fool you?
Out in the hallway I took a deep breath and hurried towards the staircase, taking the steps two at a time and only slowing when I reached the ground floor. There were a lot more people now, standing in clusters talking in low voices that fell away as I appeared. They glanced hopefully in my direction and then away again as if a lack of answers was written on my face. Not an unusual occurrence.
‘But I spoke to him last night. He was fine.’
I followed her voice and found Loretta with Will by the crochet table. He was leaning in close, his hands on her shoulders. As I watched, she knocked one of the hands away, shook her head in denial.
‘He’s done this before you know, once or twice. Got all wrapped up in something and fallen asleep there. Last time I brought him a mug of tea in the morning. That’s all he needs. Tea.’
‘Loretta …’ Will propelled her gently forward with one hand still in place. ‘Come into my office. You’ll be more comfortable there.’
‘No. I need to get Sam tea.’ Her voice rose. ‘Just tea. White with two.’
Will slid his arm around her and continued to move towards his office. ‘I’ll help you with that. In the meantime, is there anyone I can ring? Your son perhaps?’
‘What happened?’ asked Elsa Poxleitner, materialising by my side. ‘Is he really …?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh my god. Poor Sam. Poor Loretta.’
‘Yes.’
At the far end of the hall, Will was now ushering Loretta into his office. Minutes later Karen Rawlings came bustling across to the kitchen. No doubt to fetch that cup of tea, although it wouldn’t be for Sam. The hall was much warmer than it had been earlier and suddenly my jacket felt constrictive. That fresh air seemed even more imperative. I nodded to Elsa and made my way through the knots of people towards the exit. Somebody put a hand on my arm as I passed but I didn’t dare stop or even acknowledge their compassion. I pushed the door open and burst outside. It was colder here, with a welcoming breeze that buffeted my body. I wiped my eyes roughly.
‘Nell? Nell Forrest?’
I kept my fingers in front of my eyes for a moment and then lowered them slowly. My eyesight was blurred but I knew who it was by the voice. ‘Hello, Ashley.’
‘Are you all right there?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ I stared at him, my vision clearing to reveal a man who had barely changed since I had seen him last, before Christmas. Detective Sergeant Ashley Armistead. Tall, a little worn, with sandy hair and dark eyes currently creased with concern. I felt a shaft of regret for having rejected him back then even if, according to my eldest daughter, he was just a player. A bit of play might have been just what the doctor ordered. And it wasn’t like I could have fallen pregnant.
‘Are you growing your hair? It looks nice.’ He coughed, as if wanting to swallow the compliment. ‘Did you know him? The victim?’
‘Yes, he was a friend.’ I paused, frowned. ‘The victim? Hang on, what are you doing here anyway? You’re homicide. This was a heart attack.’ I paused again, hoping he would fill the gap. ‘Wasn’t it?’
‘Just routine,’ replied Ashley. ‘I was in the area so I thought I’d stop by.’
Still frowning, I examined his face, but the expression remained inscrutable.
‘Besides, what are you doing here?’
‘I found the … body. I had an appointment with him.’
‘Good god. Is there a death in this town where you’re not present?’
I decided to treat the question as rhetorical. ‘And is there one where you don’t show up? Seems like a waste of police resources to me. As a taxpayer I’m a little concerned.’
‘In that case I’d best go earn my keep. But could you stick around, Nell? I’d like to talk.’
‘Would you now?’ I replied in my best flirtatious manner. ‘Is that appropriate?’
He stroked his chin, as if thinking. Finally he nodded. ‘Yes, I believe it is. Given it’s about the victim, and your finding him. But we can always take the discussion down to the police station if you’d prefer. If you’re concerned about being appropriate.’
I stared at him narrowly, then watched as he strode into the community centre. Only an hour ago I had stood there, waiting for Will to unlock the door, completely oblivious to the fact that upstairs Sam Emerson already lay dead. Why was Ashley here? Could there really be any question about the death? I was still staring at the door when something began nudging at the corner of my mind. I closed my eyes until it burst into being, swelling into knowledge. That door had been locked also. Sam had been inside, dead, and the door had been locked. And that was why Ashley Armistead was here. Sam Emerson had been murdered.