The Last Murder at the end of the World

FIFTY-TWO

‘Thea!?’ exclaims Emory.

‘She was kneeling over the body with a knife in her hand, covered in blood,’ he says, slurping his tea. ‘She was screaming something about this being Niema’s fault, and how she should have known what would happen.’

Emory remembers the memory gem she saw in Hephaestus’s bunker. One of Niema’s last memories was a violent argument with Thea.

Adil reaches down, opening his knapsack. From inside, he removes a T-shirt that’s crusty with blood, which he places on the table in front of her.

‘Recognise it?’ he asks.

‘It’s Thea’s,’ she says. ‘She was wearing it the day Niema died.’

‘That’s Niema’s blood all over it,’ he remarks. ‘Thea was planning to burn it, the way she burned a piece of her fingernail she found lodged in Niema’s cheek.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I watched her do it,’ he replies. ‘I hid at the back of the lab, while she conducted the post-mortem. I wanted to see how she’d react.’ He pushes the T-shirt towards Emory with a long finger. ‘This is for you. Test it, if you like. You’ll see that I’m right.’

‘I will,’ says Emory, pushing it to one side. ‘But first I want to hear more about last night. Did you see what happened to Hui? She’s a musician?’

Adil’s features flicker irritably. His eyes flash to the T-shirt, then up to her face, trying to understand why she isn’t immediately rushing at Thea, clutching this evidence in her hand.

‘She was lying near Niema,’ he says grudgingly, taking a glass ball out of his pocket to roll around under his thumb. ‘She’d been stabbed, as well. Your daughter was with her, trying to keep pressure on the wound. I assume that was Thea’s work too, but whatever caused it happened before I got there.’

‘What was everybody else doing? The entire village was awake.’

‘I didn’t see,’ he says shortly. ‘They weren’t in the exercise yard.’

He’s sulking, she realises. He never imagined the conversation going any further than his accusation, and the reveal of the T-shirt. He hasn’t rehearsed any of this. If she’s careful, she might finally be able to catch him out.

‘What did you do after you saw Thea stab Niema?’

‘I ran.’

‘You ran?’

‘I was exiled from the village, Emory. I was told if I interacted with anybody, they’d be killed. Niema had welcomed me back, but she was dead. I was worried about what Thea or Hephaestus would do if they caught me there, so I went back to my shack before they saw me.’

Finishing his tea, he takes his empty cup over to the sink and starts washing it. Emory stares at his back, thoughtfully.

He’s a good liar, she’ll give him that. She’s been served fragments of the truth, and there’s almost enough of them to disguise the fact that they don’t really fit together. It’s impressive, and irritating.

‘How did you burn your hands?’ she asks, gratified to see his shoulders momentarily tense.

‘I can’t remember,’ he replies.

‘Did it happen when you set the warehouse alight?’ presses Emory. ‘I noticed the ash under your fingernails and I found one of Magdalene’s paintings in your shack. It used to be stored in the warehouse, and had bloody fingerprints on the frame, suggesting you saved it from the fire. Was that Niema’s blood? Did you cave her head in, then set fire to the warehouse, only to realise you were about to burn your beloved granddaughter’s art?’

Adil wrings the dishcloth in his hands.

‘I’ve given you the clothes,’ he says, struggling to hold on to his temper. ‘I’ve told you about the fingernail. Why are you still asking me questions? If you check Thea’s hand, you’ll see I’m right.’

‘Do you know what you and the elders have in common?’ says Emory sharply. ‘You only answer questions you want to answer, and you think the rest of us are stupid enough not to notice. You were in the warehouse, last night, and I think you drew the code to the morgue on Clara’s wrist. You wanted us to find those bodies. What are you up to?’

A tense pause stretches between them and Emory realises she’s holding her breath. She feels like she’s standing at the entrance of a dark cave, hearing something stirring inside. She doesn’t know whether to press on, or back away.

‘Do you know why I was exiled, Emory?’ he asks, at last.

‘You attacked Niema with a scalpel.’

‘That wasn’t why,’ he says, finally turning around, his face in shadow. ‘I was exiled because I started to remember things I wasn’t supposed to.’

‘Such as?’

His voice has changed timbre, becoming low and threatening. The hairs are prickling on her neck and arms. She swings her legs from under the table. She doesn’t know if she’s in danger, but she knows he’s seething. His anger is quiet, radiating out of him like heat.

‘Me and the other apprentices, including your husband, were on an expedition. We went to sleep one night and the next day I woke up in a brightly lit laboratory, working equipment I’d never seen before. Incredible equipment. The other apprentices were running experiments, but they were asleep. I realised they were being controlled, like the villagers tonight.’

Emory gets to her feet without realising it.

‘Jack didn’t drown?’ she says numbly.

‘No,’ he confirms. ‘None of them did. I’m not sure why I woke up, and they didn’t, but I spent three days lost in an endless warren of corridors until Niema came to get me,’ he says. ‘She ordered Abi to wipe my memory, then sent me back to the village, but I slowly started remembering things. Nightmares, at first. Then daydreams, conversations with people who weren’t there. I started drawing things on walls. It was like my memories were leaking out.’

Emory staggers forward, her head spinning. ‘Are you telling me Jack’s not dead?’

‘The last time I saw him was when I left that lab,’ says Adil. ‘That’s why I went after Niema. I wasn’t trying to hurt her, I just wanted her to release my friends. Hephaestus chased me out of the village, but Abi managed to convince Niema to exile me, rather than kill me.’

‘Where is he?’ demands Emory.

Her every thought is of Jack, lost in the night. Jack who could be alive. Jack waiting for her to come and find him. Suddenly, nothing else seems to matter.

‘Out past the farms, on the far side of a hill with an olive tree at its summit,’ he says, nodding towards the infinite darkness beyond the walls. ‘That’s where Niema brought me out. I built my shack there near the door to keep watch, in case the others ever escaped.’

Emory doesn’t hear that last part. She’s already running for the gate.