I went up to my room, but I wasn’t in any mood to go to bed. I was really shocked by what Sid and Elizabeth Lovell had done, the double deception, the way they had hurt Anne Cleary and many others like her. I needed to get some fresh air, so I went back downstairs and strolled out onto the terrace where breakfast would be served. It was a lovely night. Half the stars in the universe seemed to have crowded together above the sea. I could taste the salt in the air.

And then I saw him. Hawthorne was walking along the edge of the beach, heading in the direction of The Lookout. This wasn’t a late-night stroll. I could tell from the way he walked. He was on his way somewhere.

He came off the sand and continued along the road. I wanted to call out to him, but I didn’t. I watched him until he disappeared into the dark.

21

The Full English

Elizabeth Lovell and her husband were the first to leave the next morning. They were actually going through the front door as I came downstairs and I hung back, not wanting to have to talk to them again. Sid had his arm around his wife, guiding her, even though he knew she could see perfectly well, and I wondered how much longer they would continue to keep that up now that Hawthorne and I had latched on to their secret. As far as I can tell, they haven’t appeared in public again since Alderney.

I noticed Anne Cleary paying her bill and went over to her. ‘Are you on the eleven o’clock flight?’ I asked her.

She shook her head. ‘I just couldn’t wait that long, I’m afraid.’

I was sorry to hear it. Maïssa Lamar and Elizabeth Lovell had both turned out to be frauds. I’d barely spoken to Marc Bellamy or George Elkin. Anne was the only writer I’d actually connected with during my long weekend in Alderney and I’d thought that at least we’d travel back together.

‘I suppose this has been all right for you,’ she went on. ‘You like murders and all that sort of thing.’

‘Not really.’

‘Well, I’ve had enough of it. I’d have taken the first flight this morning except that it was sold out.’ She glanced out of the door. The Alderney Tours bus was parked on the other side of the street with the driver, Tom McKinley, loading up the cases. ‘Do you know who did it yet?’ she asked.

‘No.’ I didn’t want to tell her about Derek Abbott.