Lauren can’t think of an answer.

David is startled at this outburst of Beverly’s. He doubts the reliability of what she says. No one knows better than he how notoriously unreliable eyewitnesses are. They see a black car and think it was red. They miss things that are right in front of them and see things that aren’t there at all. How much is she projecting her own fear? Beverly had seemed fairly solid until now.

Yet he had himself been suspicious of Ian, ever since he sensed he might be lying about the death of his younger brother. He’d wondered about the sleeping pills, how much they could rely on Lauren even knowing where Ian was the night Dana was killed. He too would like to know more about Ian. He would like to press him.

Gwen watches this exchange, appalled. Beverly seems to be accusing Ian of being the killer. It seems impossible – he’s so charming, so easy to get along with, and he has that wonderful smile. She thinks suddenly of that line from Shakespeare – where was it from? – One may smile, and smile, and be a villain. Her body has gone rigid, every muscle tight and stiff. Ian could have done it. He could have killed Dana while Lauren was knocked out with her sleeping pills. He was upstairs, with Lauren, when Candice was murdered. And he was running around in the dark like the rest of them when Bradley was killed. It was so dark – he could have done it. Lauren might be lying for him. Gwen clenches her hands tight.

She looks across the coffee table at David but she can’t tell what he’s thinking.

‘Something’s been bothering me,’ David says. And now they all turn to look at David, who is watching Ian. ‘Something about the story about your brother.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Ian asks sharply.

‘It’s just that something didn’t quite ring true,’ David says.

‘What makes you think that?’ Ian asks, licking his lips nervously.

Gwen, watching, feels sick.

‘I can usually tell when someone is lying,’ David asserts. He leans forward, out of the shadows. ‘Was there something more to that story? Something you aren’t telling us?’ He waits a beat and adds, ‘If there is, maybe you’d better share it with us now.’

Ian swallows nervously and considers his position. David had caught him in a lie. He had lied about his brother. He feels cornered.

‘Okay,’ Ian says, his voice low and distraught. He looks up at the attorney. ‘You’re right. I didn’t tell the whole truth about my brother.’

‘I don’t see how that matters much, right now,’ Henry says. ‘Who cares about your brother?’

David sends Henry a look to shut him up. ‘I want to know why he was lying.’

‘I’ve never told anyone this before,’ Ian says nervously. He glances at Lauren. ‘I was thirteen. And Jason, he was ten. He could be difficult. I didn’t like hanging out with him, keeping an eye on him. Jason wanted to go to the pond that day. He wasn’t allowed to go by himself. So I went with him. But when we got there we got into a fight about something stupid. He was so stubborn. I got pissed off and I left. I left him there alone. I didn’t think he’d go in the water. He knew better.’ He pauses, takes a breath, and exhales heavily.

‘When I got home, later, and we couldn’t find him, I went back to the pond. He was floating there, dead. And I knew it was my fault for leaving him. I never should have left him there. I’ve had to live with that my whole life.

‘I lied to my parents. They didn’t know we’d gone to the pond together. I let them believe that he’d gone on his own. That it was just a fluke that I was the one to find him. All these years, I’ve been living with the guilt. And my parents still don’t know.’ He looks up at the rest of them. ‘I don’t know if I’m guilty under the law. I left him there alone, and I’ve been lying about it ever since. I probably knew he’d go in the water. I told you the same story I’ve told everyone, even my parents.’ He looks at David – he’s afraid to look at Lauren. ‘This is the first time I’ve told the truth about it.’ He slumps back in his seat, exhausted. ‘Now you all know.’

Chapter Thirty

LAUREN WATCHES IAN, her lover, through startled eyes. Then she glances at the attorney, tries to gauge what he’s thinking. He looks as if he believes Ian now. But she doesn’t know what to believe. Maybe it happened the way Ian says. Or maybe Ian pushed his brother in. Maybe he held him down.

He’d told her about his younger brother before, the original version – the lie.

He’s sitting close to her, their bodies touching, but now she pulls away. He looks back at her in consternation.

‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’ she says, her eyes glancing off his.

‘I didn’t even tell my parents! I couldn’t tell you – I was afraid of losing you.’ He looks back at her imploringly. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen. Do you think I haven’t blamed myself every single day since then? Do you think I don’t feel guilty every time I think about my parents? Every time I talk to them?’

She turns her eyes away from him.

‘C’mon, Lauren. Don’t let this come between us.’

She doesn’t answer him for a moment. Then she turns to him in the dark. ‘You should have told your parents the truth.’ It comes out sounding a little too pious.

‘I was a kid,’ he says defensively.

Lauren shifts further away from Ian on the sofa, and speaks nervously, without looking at him. She feels everyone staring at her. She takes a deep breath and says, ‘You’re not a kid now. And we have to tell the truth, Ian. It will come out eventually.’

‘What?’ Ian says, startled.

‘What is it you want to tell us?’ David asks.

She says reluctantly, ‘When we went upstairs after lunch – I know I said that we were together, but – I went to the little sitting room on the second floor to be alone for a bit, to read. Ian said he was going to have a nap. I wasn’t with him.’ She feels Ian stir on the sofa beside her uneasily. ‘We weren’t together all afternoon like we said.’

‘Why did you lie?’ Beverly says.

‘Because I didn’t think’ – Lauren’s voice falters – ‘I still don’t think that Ian had anything to do with this.’

Ian says, ‘It’s true that Lauren went to read in the sitting room in the afternoon while I was alone in our room. We probably should have said so. But I’m not a killer. That’s ridiculous. It’s not me!’ He turns to Lauren. ‘You don’t think it’s me, do you?’ He sounds a little worried.

‘No.’ She shakes her head but she sounds uncertain, and she knows it. She can hear it in her own voice. Perhaps they all can.

‘Why on earth would anyone think it’s me?’ Ian asks. He looks nervously at the others seated around the fireplace. ‘Why me? It could be anyone.’

‘It might be you,’ Lauren whispers suddenly. ‘Maybe I’ve just been too blind to see it.’

‘What?’ Ian splutters. ‘Lauren, come on.’ He looks genuinely alarmed now. ‘This is insane.’

‘When Dana was killed, I just assumed that you were with me all night.’

‘I was with you all night! I never left the room. I swear.’ He runs his hand through his hair nervously. ‘And how would you even know? You were asleep.’

‘That’s just it, Ian.’ She looks doubtfully at him now. ‘You know I take sleeping pills. I took two on Friday night. You knew I took them. You could have left our room for hours and I wouldn’t have known.’

‘But that doesn’t mean I did!’ He runs his hands up and down his thighs. ‘So you can’t vouch for me being in the room all night.’ He looks uneasily at the others. ‘So what? None of you can prove where you were all night. Why are you pointing the finger at me?’ He says, ‘I think we all need to take a step back here. We’re all getting a little paranoid.’