Chapters (78)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Remarkable Praise for Nicci French
- Also by Nicci French
- About the Publisher
“Four months ago. And he named you as an executor.”
Jude didn’t feel like justifying herself all over again.
“Are there papers over at the place where you worked?”
“What kind of papers?”
“I need to have some idea of what he owes and what people owe him.”
Vin frowned. “As I said, it’ll be interesting.”
“But are there papers there?”
He shrugged. “If you want papers, we’ve got papers. Lots of papers.”
“Is there some kind of company accountant I can talk to?”
“No.”
“You mean there isn’t an accountant?”
“That’s what I mean. But you can come over and take a look.” He glanced at Danny. “Most of the rest of the stuff will be in the back room, won’t it?”
“I was about to take her there.”
Vin shook his head. “Whatever you’re being paid,” he said. “It’s not enough.”
“I’m not being paid anything.”
Danny led Jude up the stairs to the large first floor.
“The police came and poked around a bit,” she said. “I don’t think they found anything much. They took his laptop away.”
They went along the corridor to the room at the back. Danny looked back over her shoulder.
“This room’s got a nice view on to the marshes. It’s where Liam spent a lot of time.”
Danny opened the door and stood by to let Jude past. Jude gasped. There was too much to take in all at once. It looked more like a junk room than an office. It was full of apparently random things: a bike leaning against the wall, cardboard boxes piled up, tools of all kinds, papers strewn everywhere. At the far wall, under a window, was a wooden desk. More papers bulged out of half-open drawers.
The sight of it made her feel almost nauseous. She looked around. The walls were almost calming, beautifully painted, a terra-cotta red, like in a Roman villa. And there were pictures on the wall that were pleasing, of fruit, lemons, apples. The view out of the window was the junkyard, which seen from above was even more chaotic, yet beyond it Jude could see the marshes, a wash of late autumn colors and the glint of water. The room itself felt like drowning, or like the inside of a disordered mind.
She looked helplessly at the shopping bags she was holding.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” she said.
“I’m not sure anyone can do this,” said Danny. She gestured around her. “This was Liam. You knew him. He was amazing. He wasn’t like anyone else. But he was also this.”
Twenty-Eight
Danny left, shutting the door hard behind her. A howl of rage was coming from somewhere inside the house. Dimly, Jude could also hear a guitar being strummed, the same chords over and over again.