“No,” Hannah says. She rubs her face. What she said to November about feeling tired was an understatement.
“Are you worrying that Myers’s alibi doesn’t hold up?” November asks anxiously. “I was thinking about that earlier—I mean, he could have come back. After establishing his alibi at the conference.”
Hannah shakes her head.
“I really don’t think so. I mean, when? The porters would have seen him coming through the main gates, and if he’d used one of the unmanned ones, he would have had to swipe in, and his Bod card would have been recorded. I mean…” Something strikes her for the first time. “I guess… there’s always the possibility he climbed over that gap in the wall.”
“A gap in the wall?” November sounds puzzled, and Hannah realizes that of course she wouldn’t know any of this. It’s strange, she’s so like April, and she clearly knows so much about their friendships and their time at Pelham, that it’s hard for Hannah to remember that she was never actually there, that this is all just secondhand information to her.
“Pelham was—is—completely walled,” she explains. “And mostly it’s pretty secure, but there was this one place behind Cloade’s where you could climb over. It was on the route you’d take back from the station. But I can’t see Myers doing that. That was something the students did to avoid going the long way round after the gates were locked, not a member of staff on his way back from a conference.”
“So… what, then?” November says diffidently. She looks uncomfortable—like she is trying not to pry but is genuinely worried about Hannah’s silence.
Hannah’s phone beeps and she glances down at it in her lap. It’s from Will. How did it go? Can you talk?
“Hang on,” she says to November, “it’s Will, I need to take this, he’s been worried.”
She dials him back, and he picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, are you okay? How was it?”
“I’m fine. I’m in the cab back to the hotel with November so I won’t talk for too long, but the meeting was… I mean, he was nice. Helpful.” She knows it sounds like she’s reviewing a hotel receptionist, but she doesn’t know how else to put it. “I don’t think it was him, Will.”
“What do you mean?” Will’s voice is uneasy on the other end. “How can you tell?”
“He wasn’t there—November asked him outright what he’d seen, and he said he was away that evening, that was why he was never called to give evidence or anything. I’m assuming the police would check up on something like that, so I’m guessing it’s true?”
There’s a long silence at the other end of the line, as if Will is thinking about something.
“Will?”
There’s another silence. Then Will clears his throat.
“I’m sure you’re right. If he’s got an alibi, he’s got an alibi. So… you’re coming home?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” The relief in his voice is unmistakable. “I’m glad. I know you wanted to do this, but I’m glad it’s over and you’ve got your worries out of your system.”
Now it’s Hannah’s turn to fall silent. Will waits for her to respond and then says, a little more sharply.
“Hannah? It is over, isn’t it?”
“I—” Hannah says. She’s not sure what she’s going to say. She only knows that she can’t, won’t lie to Will. But the truth is, she’s not sure it is over. That realization that came to her on the tour is preying more and more on her mind. She just needs some time to think, to figure out what it means.
“Hannah…” Will says now, and she can hear the note of warning in his voice, and also the frustration. “Love—this is ridiculous. Please, please, please just leave it. You’ve done enough poking around, this is getting stupid. You’re not some kind of pregnant Miss Marple.”
He probably means the last words for a note of levity, trying to soften his obvious anxious irritation, but it hits a false note—it makes him sound glib, dismissive, and Hannah, already tense, feels her hackles rise.
“I’m glad you find April’s death so funny.”
She knows the words are unfair as soon as she says them, but they’re out, and she can’t take them back.
“Hannah, that’s not what I was saying and you know it,” Will says, his voice deliberately even. “Look, I think I’ve been pretty reasonable—”