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Back The Snakes Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. Title Page
  2. About the Author
  3. By the Same Author
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. PART TWO
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. PART THREE
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. PART FOUR
  36. 27
  37. 28
  38. 29
  39. 30
  40. 31
  41. Acknowledgements
  42. Copyright

‘Is it you?’ said Dufour, pointing.

‘No,’ said Dan, relieved and frightened at the same time.

‘Look again. Is it you?’

‘I don’t need to look. It’s not me,’ said Dan.

Dufour put the printout on the desk.

‘It isn’t me. Karen? You can tell him that’s not me.’

‘Yes, I’m telling him.’

‘What is this? Are they stitching me up? I don’t know who that is. That guy has a beard. He looks like he has a beard. It’s not me. OK? I wasn’t there. I mean, I don’t even know where that is, or when that was taken. How would I know? I wouldn’t.’

Dufour’s telephone rang. He held up his hand for silence, and Dan immediately stopped talking.

17

17

As Griff opened the door to his suite, Bea heard music. Arun was seated at a grand piano on the far side of the room, tinkling out some Chopin, with an ease that made it sound like a cocktail lounge. He stopped playing as she came in. The room was as chilled and sealed as a fridge. Her mother, in black, lay on a velvet sofa, facing the windows, with her laptop at her side.

‘Don’t stop,’ she said to Arun, then she saw Bea.

‘Hi, Arun,’ said Bea. ‘Dan is still at the police station.’

He got up from the piano, crossed the room, and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re not to worry.’

‘What’s she talking about?’ said Liv.

‘Dan. He’s being questioned again,’ said Griff.

‘Why?’ said Liv. ‘What’s he done?’

‘Nothing,’ said Bea, thinking how stupid her mother was, and how slow.

‘Well, why is he there? What can we do?’ said Liv, half rising.

‘It’s all right, calm down, it’s fine,’ said Bea.

Her mother swung her legs over the side of the chaise and put her feet on the floor, her hand groping for her water glass. ‘I’m trying to help,’ she slurred. ‘You don’t need any help, obviously. You’re fine.’

‘I’m going outside,’ said Bea.

Arun followed her to the door. ‘I’m expecting to hear back from a number of people, at any moment,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, truly.’

‘I’ll be downstairs.’

‘Try to be kind to your mother,’ he whispered. ‘She’s so fragile.’

Bea thought how innocent he was, this shark from the same cold waters as her father.

‘Arun!’ Her father summoned him from the bedroom.

‘Coming –’

He smiled and went. He must make over a million pounds a year, he had a family, and yet he tiptoed around her father like a lackey. Bea stepped out and began to pull the door to. She was almost out of earshot when her mother spoke.

‘Bea. Come here.’