by Ruth Ware
We keep coming back to Topher. Which is hardly surprising, because Topher has the strongest motive out of anyone here. And now he has opportunity as well.
“They got separated at the top, didn’t they,” I say, thinking aloud. “When the pisteurs closed Blanche-Neige. Some of them went back down in the bubble, and some of them skied it anyway. The people who took the bubble back down can’t have had anything to do with it. Who was that?”
“I don’t think they ever said.” Danny’s frowning now. “I know Topher and Inigo skied it, but I’m not sure about the others. Want me to ask?”
I nod, a little reluctantly. I should go out there myself, really. Danny’s manner with the group is getting more and more terse. He was close to squaring off with Carl earlier, which is—well, it’s just unthinkable. The last thing we need is a fight, added to this powder keg of grief and tension. But my ankle is hurting. A lot. And I can’t bring myself to put weight on it right now.
When the door swings shut behind Danny, I feel in my pocket for the blister pack of ibuprofen and count the hours since I’ve had my last dose. Three. I should really wait another hour. Instead, quickly, before Danny comes back, I crack the foil and swallow down two more pills.
As I wash it down with a gulp of cold tea, the door swings open.
“Topher, Inigo, Tiger, and Rik skied Blanche-Neige,” Danny says. “The rest of them went down in the bubble and met up with Liz, who was already waiting at the bottom.”
“Okay. Well… if someone hung back they could probably have sidestepped back up to the top of the run and skied La Sorcière instead. But they’d have had to be quick. Very quick. Eva was a fast skier, and she was already halfway down the run when Ani saw her. That doesn’t give someone much time to intercept her before she got to the bottom.”
“Unless… unless…” Danny says. He’s speaking slowly; I can almost see him figuring out the possibilities. “What if she’d fallen? What if they caught up with her, she’s hurt herself or something, they’re pretending to help her with her bindings and instead…”
I nod. There’s a definite possibility in what he’s saying. If this were opportunistic rather than planned… but then an objection occurs to me, and it’s a big one.
“There’s no drop on the bottom section of the run,” I say. “There’s no way someone could have pushed her off the edge.”
“No, but if she was incapacitated somehow they could kill her and leave her body in the trees. Elliot said himself that he wasn’t sure how the mountains affect the GPS signal. Maybe that’s what he discovered—that she wasn’t in the valley at all. Someone killed her on the piste.”
“Maybe…” But Danny’s comment has tipped off something in my mind. “But just a second, there’s one other problem with all of this.”
“What? I thought we were doing pretty well.”
“It all hangs together except for one thing. How did anyone know Eva was skiing La Sorcière? We’re talking as if someone went after her deliberately in the hopes of catching up with her. But no one saw her leave. No one knew she was skiing that run.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” Danny frowns again, his dark brows knitting together. “How the fuck did they know to go after her?”
“The only person…” I’m thinking, putting two and two together. “The only person who knew she was on that run was Ani. What if she told someone what she saw?”
“If she told someone…,” Danny says slowly, but when he finishes his sentence, it’s not what I expected him to say. “If she told someone, she could be in a fuck of a lot of danger. We have to find out who she told. And quick.”
LIZ
Snoop ID: ANON101
Listening to: Offline
Snoopers: 0
Snoopscribers: 1
“Fucking hell.”
Topher is in my room. Topher is in my room. He is pacing, back and forth, back and forth between me and the door. He looks demented. I don’t know what to do. My room has always been my refuge—the one place I could close the door and shut everyone else out—the smell of beer, the sound of my mother’s sobs, my father’s bellowing voice. Go to your room, Elizabeth. He meant it as a punishment. Instead, it was an escape.
Now my room has been invaded and my escape has been cut off.
“Fucking hell, Liz, this is a nightmare. They’re all looking at me. They all think it’s me!”
“Topher—”
I try to think what Tiger would do in this situation. Would she put her hand on his arm? Give him a hug? The latter makes me feel a bit ill, but I could try the arm.
I stick out my hand, awkwardly, but Topher is pacing. He just brushes straight past it like I was hailing a taxi and he was a driver with a passenger. I am not sure he even sees it. I go to chew my cuticles, then I shove my hand in my pocket to stop myself.
“God, I think I’m going mad. Oh Jesus, Eva. Eva!”
Topher stops and slumps onto my bed. He puts his face in his hands, and then to my horror, he begins to sob.
At least he’s stationary now. I put my hand out, trying to remember how Tiger calmed Carl down. I let it drop onto his shoulder.
But then he gives a huge wrenching sob, almost like he might be about to be sick, and I snatch it away.
“Topher,” I whisper. “Let me—” I look round the room, searching for inspiration. My eye falls upon the empty water glass by my bed. “Let me get you a glass of water.”
I’m not sure if he hears me as I tiptoe into the corridor. I shut the door, leaning against it, breathing hard.
Oh god, this is not what I am good at.
I am good at filing, and taking notes, and making sure everything adds up. I am good at tidying up loose ends and keeping everything straight. I am task-oriented and time-conscious and detail-focused. And I am very, very good at making myself invisible.
In short, I was a perfect PA. But I am not cut out for this.
ERIN
Snoop ID: LITTLEMY
Listening to: Offline
Snoopers: 5
Snoopscribers: 10
Danny and I should be washing up from lunch—it’s no joke, with no dishwasher. The only hot water now comes from kettles we boil on the woodburning stove, and it’s becoming a full-time task just to keep enough clean crockery to serve meals. The greasy crockery from lunch is piled high on the draining board, and cutlery is soaking in lukewarm water that’s fast losing its heat. But important as it is to keep the guests fed, keeping them alive is more crucial, and neither of us wants to leave the other on their own, so there is no discussion over who will go and who will stay when I propose talking to Ani. That we will both tackle her is without question. The only thing in doubt is where and how.
“Now,” Danny says firmly. “If she talked to the murderer, told them where Eva was, it’s only a matter of time before they figure that out. And when they do…”
He trails off. I swallow. I know he’s right.
“But, what if she’s with one of the others?” I ask. “What’s our excuse for talking to her alone?”
Danny shakes his head.
“No, we talk to her in front of everyone. It’s better to get it on the table. If everyone knows the truth, great. They can’t kill all of us.”
He says it almost glibly, and a part of me finds myself wanting to laugh, hysterically. How has it come to this, that we’re discussing murder like some kind of parlor game? But he’s right. There’s no sense in keeping whatever Ani has to say under wraps. The more people who know the truth, the better.
We don’t have far to go to find her. We exit the kitchen and make our way through the chilly dining room, and there she is—sitting in the lobby in front of the woodburner, playing cards with Carl, Rik, and Miranda, her huge glasses pushed up on her forehead as she stares down at her hand.
“Three of a kind,” Carl is saying smugly, as he lays down three kings.
“Hi,” Danny says, a little brusquely, positioning himself in front of the group. “Can we talk
for a moment?”
“Sure,” Miranda says with a sigh, stacking her cards. “Carl’s whipping our arses anyway, so please come and save us from another defeat.” She runs a hand through her long dark hair, and then makes a face. I know how she is feeling. No hot water means no showers, and everyone is looking a little limp and grubby around the edges, including me and Danny. “Have you got news?”
The hope on her face gives me a momentary stab of guilt, as I realize what our purposeful entry must have looked like. I shake my head.
“No, I’m so sorry. Still nothing.”
“Bloody hell,” Rik says. “Still? Isn’t this getting a little bit… concerning?”
“Well, I must admit, I would have hoped they’d be here by now.”
I look out of the tall windows that span the double-height lobby. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but the air is so dark with whirling snow that it looks like twilight, and I can’t see the lights of St. Antoine le Lac below, let alone the far-off mountain ranges. But then, the thought occurs to me uncomfortably, maybe they are without power down in Le Lac too. The batteries in Danny’s radio have died, and we have no idea now what’s happening down there. It could be much worse than we’re imagining.
“It’s more than twenty-four hours since the avalanche,” Rik presses. “Shouldn’t someone have been in contact by now?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
His concern is making me increasingly uneasy. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is something wrong.
“They’re very stretched, I imagine.”
“What are you getting at, mate?” Carl says sharply, looking across at his colleague. “You got a point to make, spit it out.”
Rik exchanges a look with Miranda and then says, almost reluctantly, “Look, this isn’t an accusation, please don’t think that. But I’m just saying that it’s… well, it’s unfortunate that no one else managed to talk to the police, apart from Inigo.”
“What do you mean?” Carl says, taken aback.
“I’m just saying… it would be nice to have corroboration of what went down. We only heard his side of the conversation. And it does seem a little… strange, that he’s the only person who managed to get any reception.”
“Are you saying he didn’t call them?” Carl’s eyebrows go up to his shaven hairline.
Rik says nothing, but he gives a little shrugging wince that could be yes or no, but functions effectively as an acknowledgment of the possibility.
“Fuck,” Carl says. He breathes it out like some kind of prayer. “Faaaark.”
Danny shoots me a startled, worried look, and I realize that I never told him about my conversation with Inigo, and Rik’s suspicions, perhaps because I never really believed they were true. Now I feel frighteningly naïve. What if Rik’s right? What if no one is coming?
“What did you want to talk to us about?” Miranda says, bringing us back to our original mission, and I drag my mind back to the task in hand with an effort.
“Oh. Yes. Well, it was actually Ani we wanted to speak to—we had a quick question.”
“Oh?” Ani looks up from her hand. “Yeah! I mean, sure, anything I can help with?”
“You want a bit of privacy?” Carl says, and he makes to half rise, but Danny shakes his head.
“Stay. Better to keep all our cards on the table, if you know what I mean.”
Carl considers for a second, then sees the wisdom of what Danny’s saying and gives a short nod, and sits again.
“Ani,” I say, trying to think how to put this without causing undue alarm but being as clear as possible about what I mean. “You saw Eva skiing La Sorcière when you were coming up in the lift, is that right?”
“Yes,” Ani says. “Definitely. I, like, already said that though… ?”
“Yes, but what I wanted to ask is, did you tell anyone at the time?”
“Oh…” She frowns, trying to think. “I don’t remember. I might have said something to Carl. Like, Oh, hey, there’s Eva. Do you remember, Carl?”
“To be quite honest, I don’t,” Carl says flatly. “I don’t think you said anything, but hand on heart, I couldn’t swear to it either way.”
“Oh!” Ani says suddenly. She’s flushing pink, and she looks like a child who’s pleased they’ve come up with the answer you were prompting for. I realize, with a disquieting shift, that Ani thinks we are testing her, checking up on her story, and she’s pleased she can give us corroboration. “Wait, I did tell someone. We came off the lift at the top, and Topher was talking about setting off, and Inigo said, ‘But, like, we can’t,’ because of waiting for Eva, and I said, ‘Gosh no, didn’t she tell you? She’s already left. I saw her skiing down the black run.’ I’m not sure if Topher heard me, but Inigo definitely did. He can back me up.”
He can back me up.
She’s looking at me with wide, shining eyes, and her trust makes a lump come to my throat.
But Carl… Carl is looking at her with a kind of horror, and I know that he has joined the dots that Danny and I had already figured out.
“Bollocks to backing you up,” he says abruptly. “Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?” Ani says. She looks surprised, like we’ve taken away her gold star. She can’t understand why Carl isn’t pleased for her, happy that her story has checked out.
“Inigo knew,” Carl says. “He knew where she was skiing. Eva. You told him how to find her.”
“Oh my God,” Ani says, and the color drains out of her face, leaving her translucent skin bone white, the blue of her veins showing through at the temple. “Oh my God, you’re saying—you’re saying—”
“I’m saying, someone went down that run and killed Eva. So question is, who knew she was skiing it?”
“Not Inigo!” Ani says, and her voice is a cry of anguish. “Not Inigo, no, he was—he and Eva—”
She stops, her hand over her mouth, as if she’s said too much.
“Eva was shagging him,” Carl says brutally. “Come on, love, we all know that. You don’t have to be Sherlock bloody Holmes to get that far. But shagging someone isn’t an alibi, you know that.”
“No!” Ani stands up. The color has come back to her face, and she looks pink and furious. “No. I’m not having this! Eva’s death—it was an accident. And Elliot—I just—no! I won’t—I can’t think like this. I can’t!”
She lets the cards flutter from her hand, and stumbles from the room.
LIZ
Snoop ID: ANON101
Listening to: Offline
Snoopers: 0
Snoopscribers: 1
I am standing outside my bedroom door, my back pressed to the wood, when someone comes up the stairs. I can’t see who it is at first. With the lights out, the corridor is too dark. But as she comes closer, I see that it is Ani. She looks as if she has been crying.
My first instinct is to duck back inside my room—but I can’t. Topher is in there. I am trapped. She is walking towards me. I am going to have to interact with her.
“Are you okay?” I say.
“They’re—they’re saying awful things,” she gulps. “About Inigo. I don’t believe it, Liz, I won’t!”
“What kind of things?” There is a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“That he—” She gulps again, and forces herself on. “That he killed Eva. That he didn’t call the police.”
“He didn’t call the police? Are you saying no one’s coming?”
“But he did!” Ani wails. “We saw him! It’s completely unfair they’re saying this stuff and not giving him the chance to defend himself. I’ve worked side by side with him for two years, for God’s sake. I know him!” She pushes past me and bangs on his door.
Carl has pursued Ani up the stairs. The others are following. I see Rik, Danny—holding a torch—Miranda, last of all Erin, still limping.
“Ani, wait,” Carl says. Just as he says it, my bedroom door opens so suddenly that I nearly fall backwards, because my weight is still rest
ing against the wood. Topher shoves past me into the corridor. His face is still blotched from earlier but he is no longer crying.
“What’s going on?” he asks abruptly.
“Inigo!” Ani is still banging on his door. There is no answer. “Where is he?”
“Oh God,” Rik says. He looks at Miranda, and then at Erin. “You don’t think—”
“Oh no, no,” Danny says quickly. “We’re not having another body. Not on my watch.” He elbows past Ani, takes a staff key out of his pocket, and opens the door. Then he shines the torch into the room.
There is no one inside.
Over his shoulder I can see Carl’s belongings, thrown untidily around, and Inigo’s camp bed, the covers neatly smoothed and tucked.
In the center of the pillow is a folded piece of paper.
No one seems to know what to do, but then Erin hobbles past Danny into the room and picks it up.
“It’s a note,” she says, scanning it in the torchlight. Then her face goes blank. “Oh… fuck.”
It is the first time I have heard her swear in front of us. Danny has lost it a few times, but Erin has always been completely professional. Now her face is white. She looks up at Danny and mouths something I can’t decipher.
“What does it say?” Topher says authoritatively. Apart from a slight croakiness in his voice, you would never know he had been sobbing his heart out in my room a few minutes ago. “I have a right to know, I’m still CEO of this company.”
He pulls the note from Erin’s fingers. She does not resist. He reads it aloud.
“ ‘Dear everyone, I have made a terrible mistake. I have gone to try to put it right. Please don’t come after me. Inigo.’ ”
“Oh fuck,” Miranda says, echoing Erin. “The idiot.” She is standing in the doorway. Now she turns and looks out the long window at the end of the corridor, the window Inigo stood at to try to get reception. It is almost completely dark now. The snow is beating on the glass as if it is trying to get in. I cannot help an involuntary shiver at the sight. “I mean—look at it out there. He’s going to kill himself.”