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‘I don’t know,’ Jem said. ‘It wasn’t me.’
‘And it wasn’t me.’
‘And Aaron and Ella gave each other an alibi. So that leaves Nicky or Prue?—’
‘Unless Aaron and Ella were lying.’
‘Or you’re lying,’ Jem said. ‘Or I am.’
‘Indeed.’ Hugo gave a tight smile.
Jem took a deep breath. ‘It was one of us.’
He didn’t think he’d ever said it out loud. He’d known it; they all had. They’d known, and kept silent, and damned themselves and their friendship by complicity, but they had never said the words.
The expression on Hugo’s face suggested it wasn’t a sentiment he’d faced either. ‘Don’t.’
‘You know it’s true.’
Hugo glanced round, an involuntary, fearful motion that had no place in this lavish room. ‘It may be, but don’t. Please.’
‘Do you not think about it?’
‘No. No, I don’t. I didn’t kill him or want him dead, but I have a life to live, ambitions to achieve. I won’t have my time on Earth overshadowed by a horror of someone else’s doing. If there was anything I could do…but there isn’t. It’s ten years too late for that.’
‘Well, someone wants to find out,’ Jem said. ‘“Ask him why,”, it said. And I’d like to know too.’
‘Are you sure this is wise? If someone is writing these letters, and you go around asking questions…’
Jem met his eyes. Hugo flung his hands up, the movement speaking of frustration. ‘Let’s be honest. I haven’t sought out any of the others in ten years for a reason, and I expect you haven’t either for the same reason. I don’t think you should do this.’
‘How can I not?’ Jem asked. ‘I’m not you. You have a life and a fiancée and ambitions and a career and all those things. Well, I don’t. I didn’t take my degree, I couldn’t return to study. I’ve done nothing for a decade but drudge. It might not have affected your life, Hugo, but it ruined mine.’ The words came out louder than he’d meant, stark and bare. ‘It ruined my life,’ he repeated more quietly. ‘StAnselm’s was my chance, and when I lost it, I lost everything. Whoever killed Toby took my future from me as well, and now it’s ruining my life all over again. So I’m going to do what the letter says. I’m going to ask why and see what I find, because I have nothing else, and it seems to me that I never will have anything else while this shadow hangs over us.’
Hugo was watching him closely. ‘I can’t stop you, but I wish that you will be careful.’
‘I will. Hugo, where were you that night?’
‘You know where I was. After that ghastly evening, I went up to visit a friend in Christ Church who was celebrating a birthday, but decided before I got there that I didn’t like the idea of company after all. I thought I might drop in on Summoner’s Gift instead, so I walked back to college and went in through the back gate, but I wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t speak to anyone and left after a few minutes. Returned to my digs in solitary splendour and sat there feeling like a fool. I expect we all did that.’
‘Yes.’
Hugo tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. ‘I don’t know if people ever speculate to you on who did it.’
‘They used to, all the time. My supervisor called it an intellectual exercise.’
‘Oh, yes. People at dinner parties treating it like a parlour game, or amateur sleuths who write with their theories. At whom did you find fingers pointing?’
‘Aaron. Always Aaron.’
‘Yes. I suspect he might have found himself in very hot water if Ella had not sworn she was with him. She swore they were together, and he agreed they were.’ He paused, then grimaced. ‘A terrible actor, Aaron.’
‘Yes,’ Jem said. ‘Yes, he never could lie for toffee, could he?’
‘Idon’tthink it was him,’ Hugo said, as if Jem were arguing it. ‘If Aaron had wanted Toby dead, he’d have done a better job of it. That sounds appalling, but you understand me. He isn’t a fool: he would not have set up an alibi that depended on his sweetheart’s word and his non-existent histrionic skills, because even with Ella’s testimony, it was a tight squeak for him. I don’t suspect Aaron. I would point the finger at…others before him.’ A slight hesitation there, as if he’d considered saying a name. ‘But I also don’t believe that alibi.’
‘If he was lying, so was Ella.’
‘Ella has a cool head,’ Hugo said. ‘I have always assumed she took one look at that brute of a detective inspector, concluded that he would hang Aaron on the colour of his skin, and acted accordingly. And, presumably, Aaron realised he should go along with it.’ He rubbed the back of his neck, an awkward, boyish movement, slightly at odds with his stiff, high collar. ‘So where does this leave us?’
