‘You start,’ says Connie.
Ibrahim thinks for a moment. ‘I think you are unhappy.’
‘Wrong,’ says Connie.
‘I think you make other people unhappy,’ says Ibrahim.
‘I’ll give you that,’ says Connie.
‘So you know you make other people unhappy, and yet you are happy? It must be hard to make peace with that fact?’
‘Other people are their own responsibility,’ says Connie.
‘Connie. You are very bright, you are hard-working. You spot opportunities. I think it is fair to say you are more powerful than many other people.’
Connie drums her fingers on the table. ‘Maybe.’
‘So therefore you are a bully,’ says Ibrahim. ‘If you are strong, you have a choice in life: to protect the weak, or to prey on the weak. You use the strengths you have been given to prey on the weak.’
‘So does everyone,’ says Connie.
‘I don’t,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Only sociopaths do.’
‘Well, then, I’m a sociopath,’ says Connie. ‘You should try it, it’s very lucrative.’
‘You sensed Heather Garbutt was frightened, Connie. And you sensed she was unable to tell the truth. And I think you cared about that.’
Connie pauses. ‘Not especially.’
‘You didn’t care?’
‘Not really, no.’
‘“Not really, no.” Yet you think I should find out what Heather was writing? You think maybe there’s more to her death than meets the eye?’
‘Maybe,’ says Connie.
‘I have good news and bad news for you, Connie,’ says Ibrahim, shutting his pad.
‘Enlighten me,’ says Connie.
‘The good news is that you care. So you are not a sociopath.’
‘And the bad news?’
‘The bad news is that means, at some point, you are going to have to come to terms with everything you’ve done in your life.’
Connie stares at Ibrahim for a long while. Ibrahim stares back.
‘You’re a fraud,’ says Connie, finally. ‘Nice suits, I’ll give you that, but a fraud.’
‘Perhaps so.’ There is a series of beeps on Ibrahim’s phone.
‘And that’s our hour up. More next week, or is that us done? It’s always your choice. Perhaps I am too much of a fraud for you?’
Connie gathers up her magazine and places the rest of the KitKat in her Hermès clutch bag. She stands, and holds out her hand to Ibrahim.
‘More next week,’ she says. ‘Please.’
‘As you wish,’ say Ibrahim.
‘I’ll keep digging for you,’ says Connie.
‘And I shall do the same for you,’ says Ibrahim.
34
‘What did you make of Pauline?’ asks Elizabeth.
‘I like her,’ says Joyce.
‘Well, I like her too,’ says Elizabeth. ‘But what did you make of her?’
‘I asked her about the comments from the other day,’ says Joyce. ‘About Bethany’s clothes. But she batted them away. And she said she had no memory of the notes.’