He breathed deeply as the road became steeper. He passed a house with a basket of oranges outside and was tempted to buy a few as he was already thirsty but there was no-one around to pay. He swallowed deeply. He had found a small consolation in what Cornelia had said. Paddy could no longer be a suspect.
He turned left onto the stony path which narrowed and began to drop away sharply to the right. His heart pounded. This walk terrified him. He knew to look straight ahead. He grasped at the bushes to his left, but the leaves and thin branches came away in his hand. In another hundred metres or so it would get worse. He tried to stop himself thinking, but his body trembled. He thought about finding a way to use the rope in his rucksack. Maybe he could lasso it to the branches of a tree further along the path.
He was annoyed at the recurrence of these panic attacks. He had to learn how to go beyond these animal instincts for self preservation. He had to go beyond fear. He opened the rucksack and took out his bottle of water. He perched on the edge of a craggy rock and drank deeply. When he had drained the bottle, he continued slowly along the sandy path. It became narrower, as he knew it would. The pebbles were smaller and skidded off the edge. He heard them bounce down into the heathers in the valley below. He looked ahead. There, sitting on the path cross legged, was Cornelia.
She was wearing the same green dress she had worn earlier in the Plaza but had replaced her sandals with a pair of white trainers. She also had a white scarf tied around her head instead of a hat. She smiled at him.
“What are you doing here?” Gurtha struggled to find words.
“I knew that you would be walking this way and that this part of the walk frightens you. I can help.”
She reached a hand towards him. Gurtha stretched and grasped her fingers. She intertwined her fingers with his and gave him a gentle pull.
“Take it easy. Don’t rush,” she whispered, drawing him towards her. She took a few small steps back and whispered again, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Gurtha took a few shaky steps forward. Cornelia walked backwards holding his hand. When they arrived at the top where the path levelled out and broadened, close to La Torretta, they walked side by side, smelling the pine needles roasting on the ground. At first they said nothing and then Cornelia spoke.
“I was horrible to you this afternoon. I’m sorry. It must have been a shock for you to know that I was with Nuala when she died. I should have told you earlier.”
Cornelia caught his hand and squeezed it.
“We’ve been through a lot together. Haven’t we? What are you going to do about it?”
Gurtha shook his head and they continued in silence.
Then he spoke.
“I don’t know. If you were in my shoes what would you suggest?”
Cornelia tightened the scarf on her head.
“I didn’t know either. I think you can understand why I ran away from the scene. I imagine that you think I am not telling the truth. Do whatever you have to do.”
They continued walking in silence.
Half an hour later, they approached La Torretta. Gurtha opened the gate for Cornelia to enter. He calmly stated.
“I’ll drive you back home. It will be getting dark soon.”
Cornelia shrugged her shoulders.
“You don’t need to. I can walk.”
Gurtha let her step ahead of him.
“I insist.”
DAY 25
WEDNESDAY 4TH SEPTEMBER 2013
“THERE IS A CANDLE IN YOUR HEART, READY TO BE KINDLED. THERE IS A VOID IN YOUR SOUL, READY TO BE FILLED. YOU FEEL IT, DON’T YOU?”
J RUMI
NEXT MORNING Gurtha rang Laura to explain how the conversation with Cornelia had gone. He correctly imagined her response.
“Her story is not believable. You need to speak with Police Officer Andy Finn today.”
Gurtha replied, “I’ll ring him immediately we finish this call. It’s not impossible that she is telling the truth. I can imagine that the shock of Nuala falling to her death could provoke a panic reaction.”
Laura sounded cross as she said,
“Gurtha – let the Police judge the evidence. I know that there has to be justice for Nuala and for Cornelia. You’ve known Cornelia for over twenty five years and in many ways it is admirable that you don’t want to jump to assumptions about her being guilty. Let the Police continue their investigations and if she’s innocent, she will be proven innocent. It is as simple as that. I personally think that she is as guilty as sin.”
Gurtha asked, “What makes you so sure?”
Laura paused before answering.
“The fact that she has lied to you and pretended that she landed at the airport at 4.30 pm and the way she behaved at the funeral. She didn’t seem like someone who was grieving for anyone.”
“What way did she behave? Maybe I missed something.”
Laura sounded slightly agitated.
“How many times did she open up that mirror and apply that gaudy red lipstick? It’s not something you do at a funeral. You would think she was about to walk up a red carpet to receive an Oscar. Maybe she deserves an Oscar for managing to keep a lie like that going for over a year.”
Gurtha listened carefully. He said slowly, “I’m struggling with what her motivation would have been. I don’t get that at all. If there’s no motivation it has to be more likely that it was an accident and that the coroner has misinterpreted the evidence.”
“I suppose that is what Cornelia would say – that there is no motivation for her to kill Nuala.”
Gurtha replied, “Well – yes – it is what she suggested after she threw the beer around me.”
Laura laughed.
“I know this is really upsetting. But the beer incident was slightly funny. Maybe we need to imagine that if she were guilty what could be her possible motivations in wanting to murder Nuala. Have you no idea after all the conversations you must have had with Henry and her over the years?”
“Not really. If I think back over the years, I would say right from the start that she was ‘interested’ in Nuala. She wanted to know what Nuala thought and how she would respond to situations. They only met face to face for the first time at the 40th wedding anniversary. One small fact which may be relevant is that, at times she seemed a little jealous of my relationship with Nuala, but nothing that then or now seems significant. I was more concerned about the change in her behaviour with Henry. I definitely saw behaviours which I would have described as cruel. I told her as much when we were on holiday at La Quinta de los Cedros and she was very angry with me. There is also the fact that Barry confirmed that she was furious with Henry after he retired because Henry didn’t receive the pension that Cornelia was looking forward to.”
He could hear Laura trying to synthesise what he was saying.
“So money, lifestyle and intellectual jousting with you are important to her – but I can’t see why that would encourage her to murder Nuala. In their investigations, the Police will have more experience of what might be going on and also greater skill in questioning her. Let’s move it over to them. You will go crazy trying to work this out.”
♥
Gurtha immediately phoned Police Inspector Andy Finn to bring him up to date with the new information about Cornelia. The Inspector remained silent – waiting for Gurtha to finish, before saying, “Mr Maloney. I don’t think you realise the seriousness of this situation. You received a report on Saturday 31st August from your friend Laura whilst you were in Belfast to indicate that Cornelia had been seen close to Nuala’s house at mid-day on the day Nuala was murdered. Cornelia had not revealed this information either to you or to the Police. It is now Wednesday the 4th September and you have only just informed us of new information about what happened that day. Why did you not contact us while you were in Belfast?”
Gurtha took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected such a strong response from Andy Finn.
“This was a serious allegation made about Corn
elia. I have known her for twenty seven years. I thought I owed it to her to ask for an explanation face to face before reporting something which may not have any relevance to the case.”
Andy Finn continued in an even more stern voice, “Mr Maloney, I repeat that you do not seem to understand that, not only is Cornelia guilty of withholding information and obstructing a Police investigation, but these charges could also be made against you. It is not up to you to decide whether new evidence is relevant or not to the case. That is for the Police to decide. I hope I am making myself clear. We need your full co-operation now. In our initial warning to the public we stated that we believe that the person who murdered Nuala has a profile which would indicate that he or she would be capable of murdering again. You are not only jeapordising the chance to find Nuala’s murderer, but may also be putting other lives in danger. We cannot rule out that Cornelia is not the murderer at this stage and so here is what I need you do.
Firstly, do not tell her that you have contacted me. Attempt to keep her in a stable and unemotional state of mind. Continue with normal activities in order not to arouse suspicion. We will continue further investigations here. I will speak to Laura, the taxi driver and others who now may be able to confirm what they saw at around mid-day on 15th August 2012. We will also speak with Paddy. I will contact the local police to advise them that we may need their help. In the meantime, I need you to scan me the documents you found in Paddy’s wallet. We may need a week to complete our checks here, which will including requesting the coroner to review the report in the light of the new evidence and a further forensic investigation of the house to see if we can find any new evidence which relates to Cornelia being present. As soon as we have data collated from all sources, I will personally fly to the island to interview Cornelia. What questions do you have?”
Gurtha stuttered slightly as he asked, “What should I say if she directly asks me if I have contacted the Police?”
“Mr Maloney, you have known Cornelia for twenty seven years. I urge you to make the appropriate response which will keep the situation stable until I arrive.”
When Gurtha finished his call with Andy Finn, he found himself shivering. He walked onto the patio and stood with his back against the grey and orange stone walls which were warm from the morning sun. He closed his eyes. There was a ping on the mobile he was still holding – a message from Cornelia.
“How are you feeling today?”
“A little bit shivery and cold – even though it 35 degrees. I might be catching something. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hope you are well.”
Andy Finn would be proud of him.
DAY 26
THURSDAY 5TH SEPTEMBER 2013
AS GURTHA mulled over what had happened and was happening in his relationship with Cornelia, what surprised him most was how little he knew about her – how little he knew about everything and everyone – including Paddy and Nuala.
He accessed his voicemail messages. He had forgotten to listen to them the day before. There were over twenty messages from Paddy. He seemed relaxed and not agitated. Each message identical:
“Hello Gurtha. It’s your father – Paddy. Give me a ring.”
Gurtha phoned the Milthorn. Maggie had said that everything was fine and that the only the minor problem was that Paddy refused to get washed.
“I don’t think he likes to be showered by a woman. It’s normal for a man of his age. I think he might be afraid of falling in the shower as well. You told me that he didn’t have a shower at home – only a bath.”
Gurtha explained to Maggie that Paddy and Nuala hadn’t slept in the same bed for years – so it was unlikely that he would want a strange woman undressing him and showering him.
♥
Paddy opened his eyes. Where was he? The walls were yellow. He closed his eyes. Yellow was nice. He opened them again. He looked around the room. A kettle sat on a shelf to his right. Mugs hung from a wooden tree. Who put them there?
He looked down. The duvet was covered in flowers – roses, Nuala’s favourites. He lifted the duvet and looked at his body. Striped blue and white pyjamas with a white cord tied in a bow. How do you tie a bow like that? Did he do that?
He sniffed the air, disinfectant. Had Nuala been cleaning? There was another smell. He lifted the duvet again. There was a wet stain on his trousers. The bed felt wet.
What had happened? He folded back the duvet and manoeuvred his legs out of bed. He laughed out loud as he looked at his feet on the floor. Whose feet were they? Whoever they belonged to, they couldn’t be happy with them – they were ugly feet. He moved his toes. They weren’t useless feet. They were capable of doing something. He put both hands on the duvet and pushed himself into a standing position. What now?
He felt something moving along his leg, heading south – like a line of caterpillars. They were inside his pyjamas bottoms. He looked down at his legs and started to slap them. That would frighten them off. He stared at the strange shape of his feet, resting on the ground holding him up. What were they? One, two, three, four, five. Another to the left. One, two, three, four, five. He leaned forward to look more closely at his toes. What were they doing there? He raised his right big toe from the ground and released it back again to the floor. Curious. He bent forward and touched it. What would it do next?
He was still aware of the caterpillars in his pyjamas. He slapped his legs again to chase them away. A pool of liquid appeared on the floor. He took two steps to the right. It reminded him of dancing with Nuala. Two steps to the left. Two back and two forward.
♥
Maggie opened the door with a phone in her hand,
“Paddy – it’s Gurtha for you. He got your messages. Do you want to have a word?”
Paddy took the phone.
“Gurtha. When am I going to see you?”
Gurtha replied, “Very soon. You’re in your yellow room, aren’t you?”
Paddy looked around.
“If you walk over to the window you can see the car park, can’t you?”
Paddy walked over to the window.
“Yes.”
“So you’re fine. You keep behaving yourself. Don’t forget to get washed now. You know it’s good for you.”
Paddy laughed down the phone.
“Sure we never had a bath – only a tin out in the yard and you only got in there once every couple of months. It was freezing. Everyone had to use the same water.”
He handed the phone back to Maggie before Gurtha could say goodbye.
♥
Back in La Torretta Gurtha looked at his watch. It was nearly two o’clock. He recalled how Andy Finn had emphasised the importance of keeping Cornelia calm and unsuspecting of any investigation. He had told her yesterday that he would see her today. She would be wondering what his reaction was and she might be annoyed with him for not getting in touch. Yet he didn’t feel he had the strength to see her today.
Without thinking more about it, he lifted the phone and dialled her number. It would be better to speak than leave a text for a second day in a row.
She answered immediately.
“How are you? Are you coming down to the Gallery? Angelina wants to show you how well the exhibition is going.”
Gurtha coughed twice.
“Thank you both for all the hard work. I feel a bit mean, but if you don’t mind, I’ll have another quiet day and see you tomorrow. The cold is getting better. I don’t feel so shivery but I don’t want to spread any bugs. How does that sound?”
Cornelia was silent for a second or two before replying.
“Of course. If you want, you can leave it to Saturday – didn’t you say we were all invited to your neighbour Toni’s fiesta?”
Gurtha attempted to sound enthusiastic.
“I’d forgotten about that. There will be quite a few people here. It should be fun. So, I may see you tomorrow in the Gallery and if not, it’s definitely everyone at Toni’s on Saturday evening around eight o’clock.”
He s
et the phone on the table with a sigh of relief. The more people that were around, the easier it would be to keep Cornelia off the scent of what was really happening.
♥
Gurtha felt that he needed a break after the intensity of the previous twenty six days. He decided to have lunch in a restaurant a little further up the mountain - the Mirador de ses Barques. He walked along a broad stony path, before veering steeply to the right and climbing towards the Mirador. The wind moved through the valley with the sound of waves crashing onto sand. Olive trees seemed appearances of twisted shapes of previous thoughts, planted into soil feeding them in mysterious ways. Olive trees bending, bulging, unknown, unseen works of art. The artist’s hand painting in the dark, form emerging from no known cause. Leaves now waving silvery green - movement embedded within stillness of crooked trunks. No straight lines anywhere.
The final climb towards the Mirador took him through a shadowy ancient passageway. He trod it as he imagined a climber would pick his way carefully towards the summit of Everest. Dead bodies on either side of the path, acorns sinking into sandy earth rather than snow.
He lifted a warm acorn from the ground – inspecting the hard brown egg shell with the green protection of a Buddha stupa. It was alive. A genetic imprint of greatness.
The Secret Wound Page 25