Bright Air - Barry Maitland [36]
‘No more students?’
He gazed at his feet sombrely, then shook his head.
I raised an eyebrow at Anna, who took over.
‘We wondered if you’d heard about Curtis and Owen, Marcus?’
‘Curtis and Owen? No, I haven’t heard from them for a while. What about them?’
I hadn’t noticed a newspaper or a TV in the house.
‘They were killed in a climbing accident in New Zealand last month.’
He cocked his head forward, peering at her. ‘No …’ He looked confused, and I wondered if he might be on medication as well as booze. ‘A climbing accident?’ He shook his head, not upset but more as if this just couldn’t be right. ‘Another climbing accident? Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I went over there as soon as I heard. I was with Owen when he died in hospital.’ Anna was leaning forward, speaking slowly, watching his reactions. ‘Just before he died he told me something very disturbing. He said that Luce didn’t die the way the inquest had heard. He said her death wasn’t accidental.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He said, We killed her.’
Marcus looked startled, opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Finally he said, ‘No, that’s … that’s … crazy.’
‘Is it? You weren’t actually there when it happened, were you?’
‘You’re not serious.’ He began tapping a finger on the arm of the chair. ‘There was an inquest, a full investigation.’
‘Which relied on what Curtis and Owen said.’
He hauled himself abruptly upright in his seat, glaring at her. ‘This is crazy, Anna. Tell me again, the whole thing.’
While Anna did so I looked at the books lying around my feet. There was one called Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and its Attainment, which I thought might have been about climbing until I saw that the author again was Steiner. There were others by him—The Being of Man and His Future Evolution and Cosmic Memory—and a thick tome called A Guide to Anthroposophy. The books had Dewey classification numbers on their spines from the university library, and I wondered if he still had access, or if he’d stolen them.
‘Thank you for telling me this, Anna. I had no idea.’ Marcus drained his glass and I got up to refill it for him. ‘Have you told anyone else about it?’
‘Not yet.’
Marcus seemed agitated, preoccupied. ‘The fall,’ he said.
‘Sorry?’
‘Owen’s mind … He was obviously deranged by his fall.’
‘You don’t think it’s possible he could have been telling the truth?’
‘What? No! Of course not.’
I said, ‘How about Luce’s state of mind, in those last days before the accident?’
‘Luce? State of mind?’ He focused his eyes on me in that intense way he’d had before, as if he wanted to burrow right into your brain and find out what you were hiding in there.
‘Yes, I mean, was she depressed? At the inquest several people said they thought she was. The police investigator even asked you all if she might have killed herself. I just wondered what you really thought.’
‘No, Luce would never do that … Ah, I think I can see where you’re coming from, Josh. She still had a photo of you inside her wallet, and you’re wondering … Am I right?’
I felt the colour rise in my face, but didn’t say anything.
‘No, it wasn’t like that. A bit subdued maybe, towards the end of the trip, but not suicidal, no, no.’
Anna said, ‘One of the witnesses said there was a disagreement between Luce and other members of the team.’
He turned to her, then slowly shook his head. ‘No, Anna—no disagreements.’
I said, ‘What about Curtis and Owen, how were they getting on?’
‘Fine, we were all getting on fine.’ He shook his head, impatient with these questions.
‘Were they lovers?’
He glanced at me, eyebrow raised, as if reassessing me. ‘You know about that, do you? No, that was over long before, as far as I know. And even if they were—what difference would it have made?’
‘Luce felt protective towards Suzi and the baby. I think she felt that Curtis should have left Owen alone.’
‘Was that how it went, Josh? I don’t know. It was none of my business. And Luce never mentioned it. Look …’ he waved a hand at us, pale and bony as a turkey’s claw, ‘this has stirred up old memories,