‘That may be true, but we only pay for results.’ He drained his beer and glanced at me. ‘Thanks for that, Andrew. Very nice.’ He stood up. ‘I suppose I’d better go and find Whitlock. She never even touched her tomato juice.’

He left.

Hawthorne picked up the piece of lemon and dropped it back into his glass. He had finished his water.

‘Are we really going to leave tomorrow?’ I asked.

‘You heard what he said. It looks like he’s got it all wrapped up.’

‘You think Derek Abbott committed the murders?’

‘What do you think, mate?’

I’m not sure Hawthorne had ever asked my opinion before.

‘I don’t know,’ I began. ‘Listening to what he said, it does all sound fairly straightforward. Abbott had a motive for both the murders. He was close to le Mesurier and he lives right next to the quarry. There’s that business with the cheque.’ I stopped. ‘Please tell me I’m wrong.’

‘Why?’

‘Because if Derek Abbott turns out to be the killer, I’m not sure there’ll be a book in it.’ Quickly, I explained what I’d already been thinking when I was in my hotel room – my fear that if he turned out to be the killer, nobody would care. ‘Actually, it’s even worse than that,’ I concluded. ‘If I write about what’s happened here, I’m going to have to say that Torode solved it. He got there before you.’

‘Are you sure?’ Hawthorne looked genuinely puzzled. ‘You’re the author. You can say I worked it all out and he didn’t know anything. You don’t even have to mention he was here.’

‘I can’t do that!’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s a complete fiction.’

‘I thought that’s what you wrote.’

‘Even when I’m writing fiction I try to write the truth.’ Suddenly, I was depressed. ‘Tell me you’re keeping something to yourself. Tell me he didn’t do it.’

‘I’m sorry, mate. I can’t help you.’ Hawthorne shook his head sorrowfully. ‘If Abbott didn’t do it, I’ve got no idea who did.’

20

Is There Anybody There?

Hawthorne and I did have dinner together, but it wasn’t exactly a joyous affair. The cooking at the Braye Beach Hotel was fine but he was distracted and I wasn’t too happy myself. I was still thinking about our conversation in the bar and the distinct possibility that after everything that had happened on the island, I wouldn’t actually have a book that I could write.