‘It certainly put a crimp in the evening,’ Hawthorne agreed.
‘But it didn’t have anything to do with Harriet being killed!’ Sky stared at Hawthorne. ‘Do you seriously think she was murdered because she didn’t like the play? That’s ridiculous. And I’m not going to be held responsible. If there was someone in the room who was crazy enough to kill her, they’d have killed her at the weekend when what she’d written was published in the newspaper, so telling everyone what she’d written wouldn’t have made any difference.’
Hawthorne wasn’t giving up. ‘We can’t be sure of that, Sky. It had been a long day. A lot of alcohol. A late night. Maybe you inadvertently triggered something. You saw what happened for yourself.’
Her phone pinged. She glanced at the screen and I could see that she wanted to pick it up and respond. She turned it face down.
‘Are you talking about Jordan?’ she asked. ‘Maybe you should be talking to him, not me. He’s the one with the temper. Fighting with Tirian. Him and his wife … always shouting at her down the phone. And what he did to me during rehearsals! Have you heard about that? You should have seen the bruises.’ She rubbed her arm, realising that she’d said too much. ‘But that thing with the knife was just stupid,’ she went on. ‘He wouldn’t kill anyone. He doesn’t have it in him. I quite like him, really. When he isn’t going on about his boring stagecraft or boasting about his career – American House of Horror and all the rest of it – he can be all right. He bought me flowers. And he wasn’t the only one who was upset that night. Harriet slagged Ewan off too and he was just as angry.’
‘He didn’t seem that upset to me,’ I remarked. I was still reeling from what she had said about the magazine. I thought back to the rehearsals in Dalston and the tech run-through here at the Vaudeville. I had absolutely no memory of handing her anything. ‘He made a joke about it. He didn’t seem to care about the review at all.’
‘You don’t know him,’ Sky said. ‘He never likes people to know what he’s thinking, but it’s all happening inside his head. He’s the complete opposite of Jordan.’
‘How well do you know Ewan Lloyd?’ Hawthorne cut in.
‘This is the second time I’ve worked with him. He’s OK. I did Macbeth with him in Yorkshire.’
‘What did you play?’
‘There were only six of us in the cast. I played Lady Macbeth, Lady Macduff, Fleance, the Porter and all three witches.’
‘Was that a good experience?’
‘Not really. It never stopped raining and nobody came.’
‘This is your ten-minute call. Ten minutes to curtain up. Thank you.’
‘There’s one thing I don’t quite understand.’ Hawthorne spoke softly … always a dangerous sign. ‘Where exactly did you find the review?’
‘It was on my phone.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’ He looked at her sadly. ‘I’ve searched the internet and it’s not there. It’s not anywhere. And when you think about it, it doesn’t make much sense, does it. Why would Harriet Throsby have posted her review on social media if she was being paid by the Sunday Times? They’ve got a paywall. They wouldn’t want it leaking out. The only way you could have read what she’d written was if you’d had access to her computer.’ He paused. ‘Or knew someone who did.’
There was a pause. For the first time, Sky looked vulnerable.
‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘There was a website …’
‘What website?’
‘I didn’t look.’
Another pause. Hawthorne waited. Sky said nothing.
‘I think you need to remember that this is a murder investigation,’ he reminded her. As always, he leaned heavily on the first part of the word ‘murder’， as if he was relishing it. ‘You can explain yourself to me or you can talk to the police. It’s your choice.’
‘I’m not talking to you.’
Hawthorne smiled. ‘Then we’ll do it the other way. I’ll put you in touch with Cara Grunshaw. It may not work out too well for you, though. Obstructing a murder investigation is never a good idea. I hope you’ve got an understudy ready to take over your part. You can go to prison for that.’
He got up, as if to leave.
‘Wait,’ Sky said. I could see her weighing up her options. It didn’t take her long to realise that she didn’t have any. ‘Olivia sent it to me,’ she said.