How to Kill Your Friends

by Phil Kurthausen

  Meredith nodded.

  ‘So, she was a little bit sad. Maybe her time with Ferran was coming to an end? Olivia, Señorita Lowe, told me that Señorita Banks was planning on leaving Ferran. It was a summer fling, she tells me, and Señorita Banks was returning to… what you call it again, the team?’

  ‘The Squad,’ said Meredith, feeling vaguely ridiculous.

  ‘Ah yes.’ Fernández jabbed her pencil at the pad. ‘It says it right here, The Squad. But she was returning. It was no big love affair and Señorita Lowe, who has known Señorita Banks for many years, said she was happy and looking forward to coming back to work.’

  ‘That’s probably right then,’ said Meredith.

  ‘Assuming it was not Ferran, and we know there was no forced entry, then we are left with a presumption it was someone the deceased knew.’

  ‘Or suicide, if this witness is mistaken about seeing a struggle.’

  ‘Exactly!’ said Fernández, and she jabbed her pencil in the air triumphantly. ‘Were it not for the other matters.’

  Meredith’s stomach performed a barrel roll. ‘Other matters?’

  ‘Precisely, and forgive my English at all times, please. These are two things. One of the neighbours reported a young woman in the lobby of Ferran’s building at approximately 11.30am which is the time when we could expect perhaps the killer to have arrived. And there is a missing item from the apartment.’

  Meredith shrugged as though neither of these things meant anything to her. ‘There are like, twenty apartments in that building. It could have been another resident or guest?’

  Fernández thrust the pencil forward. ‘Again, you are right. But let me tell you there are actually twenty-eight apartments, I know because’– she began to chuckle – ‘I sent my man, Miguel, you met him, no? I sent him to every one of them to ask if it was them or if they had a guest at that time. He was not happy to do this, I think he thinks it is beneath him… is that how you say it? But he did it and no one could say it was them or that they had a guest at that time. I know what you are thinking, I am too: it can’t be all of them, some must have been out so could have had a guest call unannounced and this is true. There were twelve apartments like that but all the owners insisted they had no one scheduled to visit. This is not proof, but interesting, no? And interesting, too, that nobody reported letting someone into the building at that time. So, who is this mystery woman?’

  She held up her palms as though seeking some form of divine response to her question.

  ‘Interesting, that’s for sure.’ Meredith glanced at her watch.

  Fernández relaxed back in her chair. ‘I am so rude, you must forgive me. Señorita Lowe said you had a dinner date with her. It is good that you two are more friends now. I understand that this was not always the case.’

  She paused and waited for Meredith to talk. Meredith had a curious feeling as though she were submerged and the words of Fernández were travelling slowly to her through the water. She felt unsure whether, had she wanted to speak, the words would actually come out of her mouth. She remembered something her son-of-a-bitch father had once told her: ‘If you don’t open your mouth you can’t prove you are an idiot.’

  Luckily, Fernández didn’t appear to have noticed. Or didn’t show that she had noticed.

  ‘I heard that you may, in Amy’s absence, become part of this “Squad,” so this is a good thing that comes from this bad thing, no?’

  Meredith mentally kicked herself and forced her conscious brain to take over. ‘I’m just trying to help out when I can.’

  ‘Yes, of course, it’s very kind of you, as I understand from Señorita Lowe again.’

  She had thought Olivia was coming round but what had she said to the inspector? Meredith didn’t say anything and Fernández smiled at her.

  ‘Yes, this is good and oh, I nearly forgot! It’s my age or’ – she held up her glass of beer – ‘or this,’ and chuckled before taking a deep sip and then setting her empty glass on the table.

  Meredith glanced at her watch once more. She wanted to lie on her bed, feel cool sheets and breathe purified air. ‘Forgot what?’

  Fernández grinned, revealing nicotine-stained teeth. ‘The last clue.’

  Meredith already knew what she was going to say. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A towel or rather a missing towel. We thought it strange that there was only one on the sunbeds when we inspected the scene and now we have searched the apartment it is clear that the towel that should have been there is not in the apartment.’

  Meredith sighed. ‘I don’t mean to be negative, Inspector Fernández, but this seems a bit thin? Maybe there was only one towel. Maybe the other was used to mop up spilt wine and thrown away or a million other scenarios.’

  ‘Exactly what I said!’ A jab of the pencil again. ‘But I asked Ferran this morning and he said that there was one there the day before, on the lounger, so unless the towel went missing between him leaving the apartment and Amy’s death then there is only one explanation–’

  ‘Someone took it,’ said Meredith, finishing Fernández’s sentence.

  ‘Exactamente! That’s right. And who would take it? Why, someone who had been lying on it, and that means someone comfortable enough to relax around Amy. Find that towel and, mark these words, Señorita Weaver, we will find the killer.’ Fernández relaxed back into her armchair.

  Meredith tried to do the same but every muscle fibre felt like it was twitching in the hope of being able to sprint away from this place. ‘Well, that sounds just great, but how can I help you with this investigation?’

  Fernández frowned. ‘Well you know I have to look at people who Amy would be relaxed enough to spend time with taking the sun. The autopsy showed she had sun lotion on her back, and we suppose this was put on her by someone else, although unfortunately, we could not obtain any fingerprints from the body. And she perhaps knew, outside the “Squad” just a few people in Barcelona and they were Ferran, the maid to the flat and two or three of Ferran’s acquaintances. And they all have perfect alibis.’

  ‘I still don’t see how I can help?’

  ‘Ah yes, I just wanted to check the timings, on the day of the killing.’ She fiddled with her notepad, trying to find the right page and then gave a little cry of glee when she located it. ‘Here yes. You told us that you were in your room all morning and left, around midday, to go and buy a bracelet from this shop, the Born Design Collective, at around 1pm, returning about 2pm? This is correct, no?’

  Meredith hated Fernández’s chirpiness and hated having to indulge it. She wanted to grip hold tightly to the armchair but she couldn’t. She had to maintain the appearance of being in control, of being calm, of being innocent. She had to be charming, of all things she had to be charming. The world rewarded those with charm and was blind to other virtues. This she knew to be the truest thing of all.

  She smiled sweetly at the inspector.

  ‘Yes, although it’s all a bit finger in the air. I could well have been in the design shop before 1pm.’

  ‘I have good news about that, Señorita Weaver. Although we don’t maintain routine government CCTV here in Barcelona like in some other countries, often private businesses do, and we have you there at the Born Design Collective at 1.44pm. It is you, clear as the day. I find this CCTV a bit… how do you say… creepy, personally, but it can be useful. This means we can discount this as the time we are concerned with is 11.30am to 12.30pm. See, I have managed to help you here.’

  Meredith wanted to lean forward and poke Fernández hard in the eye just to burst her relentlessly upbeat bubble. But as a native of California she could pretend to be as upbeat and ebulliently positive as any Catalan. ‘That is super! Like I mentioned, I wasn’t sure of the time. I just drifted around the various shops and boutiques. You know how amazing they are here. As to the times in each… well, gee, I just couldn’t tell you precisely.’

  ‘I totally understand, Señorita Weaver. My ex-husband, hijo de puta, was constantl
y moaning at me, saying how could I spend so much time in a shop, but we lose the time there, no? It is meditative but still, it would be very helpful for me if you could write down here all of the places you visited. If we are lucky, we will be able to place you in one and then I can leave you alone and concentrate on catching the killer!’ She tore off a piece of paper from the notepad and placed it on the table together with her pen.

  Meredith looked at it. ‘Now?’

  ‘That would be so very helpful. Gracias.’

  Meredith picked up the pen. ‘Of course, but, again, this is my best guess. I usually just drift from shop to shop and I don’t know the names of half of them.’

  ‘I totally understand, Señorita Weaver. If you can’t recall the name an approximate location is fine.’

  Meredith wrote a list of all the shops she could think of in El Born and then jotted down some vague notes such as ‘shop next to an ice cream parlour’, ‘boutique place near Santa Maria’ and other such descriptions which she hoped would keep Fernández busy on a wild goose chase.

  When she was finished, she handed the now full piece of paper back to the inspector.

  ‘Gracias.’ If Fernández was disturbed by the sheer number of locations, she didn’t show it.

  ‘May I go now? I have an appointment with Olivia… Miss Lowe.’

  Fernández shuffled forward in her chair and beckoned that Meredith should move in closer to hear what she had to say.

  This is it, thought Meredith, this is when she will tell me that she suspects me and will stop at nothing to prove that I am the murderer.

  ‘Listen, don’t look round, but Jude Law is sitting at the bar. Do you think it would be uncool to ask him for his autograph? I could arrest him for being such a guapo!’ Fernández laughed uproariously at her own joke, making everyone, including Jude Law, look at them both.

  Meredith was appalled. Was this the woman who would arrest her?

  21

  ‘Can you be more sad?’

  Adam was taking pictures of Dylan on a quiet part of the beach close to the Forum building. On the boulders of the breakwater, he had positioned Dylan looking out to sea and now he was snapping away.

  Dylan stuck out his bottom lip a little more which presumably was his attempt at looking “more sad”.

  Meredith sat with Richard on the sand watching proceedings. ‘I’m not sure what I think about this,’ she said.

  ‘Too soon, you think?’

  ‘Maybe it would be better to wait until the funeral?’

  Richard didn’t look up from checking his phone and Instagram. ‘We can’t let up. You know that. And the police aren’t releasing her body, so what else can we do? Without Amy we could be sunk, but doing this, you know’ – he looked up from his phone as though he had just had an idea – ‘is actually improving our numbers. With all the press coverage, it’s been good for the likes and follower rate. And you know what, Amy would have wanted this. The Squad was her baby.’

  She won’t have any children now. Meredith immediately quashed this nascent thought. ‘You’re probably right. I think you’re up.’

  Adam turned his head. ‘Come on, Dickie! It’s you next! Let’s be having you, and remember, be sad!’

  ‘I am sad,’ said Richard quietly and then he stood up slowly and walked over to join Dylan on the rocks. He put his arm around Dylan and then from the movement from their shoulders Meredith suspected that they were both crying. She wondered whether it was real or Instagram-required emotion and then decided it didn’t matter either way.

  She lay back in the sand and looked along the beach. Olivia was standing around fifty yards away, talking on the phone. Olivia had cancelled their dinner the night before, telling Meredith that she was too exhausted after her interviews with Inspector Fernández. Meredith had sensed a coldness in the text that Olivia had sent her, but she was aware that this could be her paranoia. Nevertheless, she was keen to speak to Olivia. She saw that Olivia’s call had ended and waved her over.

  Olivia acknowledged her and walked towards her. ‘Are they crying?’

  Dylan and Richard were both sobbing now and Adam was in a frenzy of picture-taking.

  ‘Yeah, Richard seemed really upset.’

  Olivia frowned. ‘It’s been nearly a week. Oh well, it will make a great post.’

  ‘Why don’t you join me?’ Meredith tapped the blanket.

  Olivia looked at the blanket but didn’t sit down. She pulled out her vape pen and took a few deep lungfuls and then blew out some great plumes of blueberry-scented smoke. ‘You know Fernández was talking to me about a young woman, mid to late twenties, who they are looking for. Apparently, she was spotted visiting the apartment block and no one knows who she was.’

  Meredith stretched as though she were the most relaxed person on the beach. She was glad she was wearing her sunglasses as the sun was directly behind Olivia, who was almost in silhouette. ‘Yeah, she mentioned that to me as well. Didn’t seem to amount to much really.’

  ‘Hmmm, maybe, but it fits one of two profiles that I know. Me and you.’

  Meredith laughed. ‘That’s what I thought and that’s why she came to speak to us but we both know that it wasn’t us, so I think it’s just checking the boxes.’

  ‘I know it wasn’t me,’ said Olivia.

  Meredith squinted but couldn’t make out the look on Olivia’s face because of the sun behind her.

  Adam shouted something.

  ‘Does he want us to join them?’

  Olivia turned her head slightly to catch what Adam was saying. ‘Yeah, but perhaps it’s better if you sit this one out, Meredith, just until we’ve cleared everything up. Oh, and after tonight it might be better if you moved out of the hotel. I hope you understand. I think it’s better, just until this is all cleared up and we decide on how to move forward.’

  ‘Does Adam know about this?’

  ‘Adam?’ said Olivia with surprise. ‘Oh God, Adam just does what I tell him but since you ask, yes, he’s totally on board with it. As you know, we need to protect the brand at all costs.’

  Meredith tried to sound normal as she said, ‘Of course, no problem.’ But there was a catch in her throat and she was sure that Olivia would have noticed that.

  She watched Olivia walk over to the boys and she contemplated staying, aiming for the relaxed look, maybe joining them for a drink after the shoot. But what if Olivia told her not to join them? She couldn’t bear that. When she was sure they weren’t looking she packed her things into her bag and then walked off the beach without looking behind her. She knew, though, that they were watching her go.

  Meredith walked along the promenade, ignoring the skateboarders, rollerbladers, electric bikers and Segway users that swerved and dodged around her. She was deep in thought and she simply didn’t see them. It seemed clear what she had to do. Firstly, the most important thing was to do deal with the towel. This was the only piece of physical evidence, assuming nothing else was found and she didn’t think anything would be, that linked her to Ferran’s flat and the sunlounger. She had to return to her old flat and retrieve it. Her next move she was more uncertain about. One thing she knew she could never do was to return to her old life and go back to living in her old flat. That was out of the question.

  Meredith headed to the metro and caught a train to Drassanes. From there she entered the narrow, dark alleys of the Raval that spread through the barrio like capillaries bringing fresh blood to the hawkers, prostitutes and drug dealers who hungrily eyed everyone who entered.

  Eventually, she reached her apartment block on Carrer de la Riereta. The door to the apartment block, as usual, wasn’t locked, and she climbed the gloomy, damp stairs towards her third-floor flat.

  She let herself in and this time was not as lucky as before. A loud reggae beat greeted her together with the heavy, sweet smell of strong weed.

  As soon as she stepped through the front door a young man who she didn’t know, all skater-boy hoodie and neck tattoos, walked
past her from the kitchen carrying a large bag of chips. His eyes were red and he drawled a low, stoned ‘hey’ at her. Canadian, she guessed.

  She followed him into the living room. On the couch was Spider and draped over him was Inga.

  Inga jumped up when she saw Meredith. ‘M!’ She threw her arms around her.

  Meredith hugged her back, pleased to see someone who was glad to see her.

  ‘Yo, Meredith,’ said Spider in his usual slurred, dopamine-infused way.

  ‘Are you two…?’ Meredith nodded towards Spider.

  Inga blushed. ‘Yeah, I’ve been lonely without you around and you know he’s not so bad. You’re not so bad, are you, Spider?’

  Spider leered at her. ‘You better believe it, honey,’ and then he pulled her back to the couch where she fell on top of him. They both giggled.

  ‘So, are you back for good now?’ Inga asked.

  ‘Maybe, I just need a few things from my room.’

  ‘About that,’ said Spider, and both he and Inga stood up and followed her as she left the room.

  Meredith thought she would collapse on the floor.

  The lock to her room was gone.

  ‘It was the landlord. You know we owed him rent.’

  Meredith spun round and faced Inga. ‘I gave you money to cover the rent!’

  Inga looked at her shoes.

  ‘Oi, don’t speak to her like that,’ said Spider.

  ‘Let me guess: you spent it on drugs.’ She didn’t wait for an answer and opened the door.

  Straight away she saw that the floorboard was loose. She put her hands on her mouth to stifle a scream.

  Spider chuckled behind her back. ‘Did you have anything hidden? They pulled up the boards in my room, too, but I haven’t got anything worth anything, save for my album collection, and they left that, the cultural barbarians.’

  Meredith dropped to her knees and used her fingertips to lift the edge of the floorboard. She looked in the space beneath. The bag containing her money, the towel and her sports gear was gone. ‘When did this happen?’