How to Kill Your Friends

by Phil Kurthausen

  ‘But she seems convinced it wasn’t and thinks it’s one of us. That old woman saw a young woman in a baseball cap, and unless there is some unknown killer out there, she thinks it must be someone known to her, and that in this city boils down to you and me. Listen, Meredith, I have to ask you something. Tell me it wasn’t you?’

  Meredith held Olivia’s gaze for a couple of seconds and then began to smile, and then they were both laughing.

  ‘I know it’s so absurd me even asking that, it’s so fucked up, the whole thing. All this because some old dude watering his plants thinks he saw something. That’s it really. But Fernández, she won’t let it go,’ said Olivia.

  Drinks, red wine for Meredith, and a gin and tonic for Olivia, arrived.

  ‘It is crazy, I know, but she’s just doing her job. We can’t blame her for that. I’m sure it will all just fade away with time,’ said Meredith.

  ‘I hope so. Fernández seems convinced one of us was involved. And here’s the thing, I won’t deny I did find Amy difficult at times, Christ we nearly came to blows a few times – actually strike that – once in Istanbul I slapped her, she was being such a spoiled bitch. You must have seen that side of her when you guys were hanging out?’

  ‘She was a little bit spoiled maybe, I agree, but we never came close to hitting each other. Christ, I don’t think I’ve hit anyone.’

  Olivia leant forward, getting closer to Meredith.

  ‘All I’m saying,’ continued Olivia, ‘is that if you had fallen out with her, if you did, I don’t know, have a row with her at Ferran’s apartment, then I would understand. Amy was a pain in the arse.’

  Meredith shook her head.

  ‘No, that never happened. I really miss her even if she was a pain in the arse. Come on, let’s toast her.’

  Olivia leaned back in her chair. She looked disappointed for a brief moment but quickly replaced it with a wry smile.

  They raised their glasses. ‘To Amy, still a pain in the arse even in death,’ said Olivia. After the first drink, they ordered more and then after a couple more they found themselves laughing and joking. After the fourth drink, Meredith didn’t shiver anymore at the thought of the bin and Carlos.

  On the fifth drink, Meredith took hold of Olivia’s hand. ‘Look, this may not be the time but on the beach the other day, you said that I needed to move out of the hotel and I totally get that you need to protect the brand, but you know once this is all over, is there any chance I can become part of The Squad again? I don’t know, but, even though this terrible thing has happened, I have enjoyed working with you guys so much and if there was any way I could continue that would be amazing.’ She risked a smile.

  Olivia sighed and then half-smiled back. ‘Look, Adam is on board. It was me who was concerned about the brand and I dunno, maybe we haven’t got along because I am naturally suspicious. You won’t believe the number of freeloaders and scam artists there are out there. But listen, why don’t you stay a few more days in the room. It’s paid up anyway. Let’s see how things pan out. You know we’ve had lots of messages asking where you are over the last couple of days on the ’Gram, so maybe we do need you.’

  ‘That would be great, if you think it would work.’

  ‘I was thinking of getting in some poor kid, hopefully, someone from a BAME background, you know – black, Asian minority, ethnic? You’ve seen all the cool brands are just pure BAME these days. But a new kid might disrupt our balance, not get us, and that’s one thing I think you do have: you get us.’ Olivia raised her glass. ‘To you, Meredith!’

  Meredith raised her glass. ‘To us!’

  She went to the bathroom, a tight little space at the back of the bar. Maybe, things were coming right. Olivia could see that she was Amy’s natural replacement. The booze made her sway as she sat down. It had been a hard road, and it was a pity about Amy, although if only she had seen how much sense it made to have her on board then that unpleasantness could have been avoided, actually should have been avoided She should be mad at Amy but she decided to forgive her. The life she wanted was at hand and there was grace in forgiveness, she had seen that on a T-shirt somewhere, and things were going to be different from now on – grace, forgiveness and the life she deserved. She finished and dreamily walked back towards the table.

  As she passed the bar, Jordi, who was polishing a glass with a rag, leaned forward and said in Catalan, ‘Your friend.’

  Meredith smiled, ‘Yeah, I think she could be.’

  He frowned. ‘Do friends record each other? In her bag by her feet, it’s open, she checked it when you went to the toilet, I got a glimpse, she’s recording you on her phone.’ He shrugged. ‘Strange kind of friends you have.’

  Meredith felt numb, but nodded at him and then walked back to the table. Olivia noticed her and smiled broadly. She glanced down at Olivia’s feet and saw her bag was wide open – a dangerous thing to do in this city – and there was the unmistakable blue glow of a phone screen sat at the top of the bag. Olivia’s eyes flickered down towards the floor. Had Fernández put her up to this or was it a frolic of her own? wondered Meredith. It didn’t matter, of course, all that mattered was that Olivia wasn’t her friend, never would be and she would have to think of an answer to the problem of Olivia.

  For a second Meredith didn’t react but then she too smiled, and it was her biggest, brightest, most perfect smile.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ asked Olivia.

  ‘Everything is perfect, we just need to find an answer.’

  ‘An answer to what?’

  ‘How we are going to deal with the Amy situation and Fernández.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  Meredith laughed.

  ‘Another drink?’

  Olivia clapped her hands. ‘That’s a great idea!’

  They left La Alcoba Azul at some time after midnight and stumbled out into the stone alleyways that twisted away and around from the tiny bar. Arm in arm, they walked towards the cathedral, down empty passageways walled with ancient tenements. Meredith pulled Olivia down another side passage that led them into the small square of Plaça de Sant Felip Neri.

  The square was dark and lit only by two dim bulbs from ancient lamps that cast a pale light on the cold stone walls. In the centre of the square there was a small stone fountain. There were a few people scattered around the square, sitting silently by the fountain or looking at the grotesque pitting in the walls of the church and school. Even though it was warm, Meredith shivered involuntarily. The atmosphere in this square had always had this effect on her.

  It seemed to affect Olivia, too. She was staring at the pockmarked walls, at the grey and white stone which was violently marked with the sign of war and death. ‘What happened here?’ she asked Meredith.

  Meredith put her hand up against the cold stone. When she was here sometimes, she felt she could hear the past screaming. ‘During the Spanish Civil War, the fascists dropped a bomb on this square. It killed forty-two people, mostly children from this school.’

  Olivia shook her head slowly. ‘That’s horrific.’

  Meredith leaned closer to the stone. She wanted to put her cheek on it, as though there was relief from the incessant heat there, but she stopped herself, conscious of how it would look to Olivia.

  ‘It is. What makes it worse is what happened afterwards. You see the fascists won, as you know, and they spread a rumour that became accepted truth: that damage you can see to the walls here’ –she caressed a blast mark – ‘was caused by rifle bullets from anarchists executing the priests of this church. They even concreted over one of the walls so it wasn’t obvious that this was blast damage, but looked like the wall the priests were lined up against before their execution.’

  ‘Fake news, but at least the truth came out eventually,’ said Olivia.

  ‘But it was believed for decades, long after the perpetrators were dead, so it worked for them. It worked perfectly.’

  ‘Well, I think that’s a bit of an odd way of
seeing it, but I suppose so. Can we go? This place gives me the creeps, if I’m honest.’

  ‘Of course, let’s go’ But she didn’t want to leave. She smiled, although she hid it from Olivia. She wanted to stay because this place, with its secrets, was the answer.

  24

  ‘I like the colour.’

  Edu ran his hand through her hair and stroked it gently. She hadn’t been expecting him this morning. She had planned to sleep off her hangover and then spend the day in her room as she was concerned that an angry Carlos and his goons would be out looking for a girl with blue hair.

  So, the first order of business had been to run out to the farmàcia across the street and pick a new hair colour. It was time to become a blonde.

  Edu had arrived shortly after she had applied the dye and had been a welcome distraction from thoughts of Fernández and Carlos.

  ‘It was time for a change.’ She rested her right hand on his naked hip and idly wondered what The Squad was doing today and whether Olivia, post-drink, would continue to be as supportive as she seemed to suggest last night.

  ‘I need the bathroom.’ He kissed her and then got up.

  She heard him run the taps and then he shouted, ‘There’s a towel in the bath, you know this, no?’

  ‘Yeah, I spilt some wine last night and used it to mop it up. There are fresh ones under the sink.’

  ‘Got them!’

  When he returned to the room he was grinning.

  ‘I can’t believe you get to live here.’ He stretched his arms wider. ‘It’s fabulous. You want to see where I am living now. It’s like a favela.’

  ‘How come? Why aren’t you in your flat?’

  ‘Fucking police. The National Guard raided my flat and the bar last week. They are trying to disrupt our preparations for Diada. This year is worse than many before because they fear the return of the Terra Lliure, cabróns. I think they want them to return, as it would give them an excuse to crack down on us.’

  ‘You know why, don’t you? The world needs bigger villains than the real ones. Real ones are too banal, too nuanced and difficult to deal with. Why do you think serial killers are the biggest draws on Netflix and in crime fiction? So, what do you guys have planned for Diada?’

  He laughed and jumped on the bed, grabbing hold of her. ‘You’d have to torture me to get that information out of me.’

  She pulled him close and kissed him deeply. She was becoming used to him being there and even his sunglasses habit was becoming bearable as she was getting to know him and understand what he meant without having to study his expression when he spoke. She had rarely given anyone this time before and she had surprised herself how he easily he seemed to fit with her. ‘I prefer to use the carrot rather the stick.’

  He kissed her back and then she pushed him away slightly. ‘So, go on, tell me, I’m keen to hear what you have planned.’

  He looked at her curiously for a moment and then propped himself up on one elbow. ‘It’s going to be our biggest acts of civil disobedience yet. We are blocking the autopistas in and out of the city, the train lines will be shut and we have got some big surprises planned for an art attack on city hall.’

  She jokingly punched his shoulder. ‘An art attack?’

  He chuckled. ‘Yeah, you know, paintball guns – we are going to cover it in yellow and red paint. It’s going to be huge. The press will go crazy for it!’

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea. I’d love to get involved.’

  He looked at her askance. ‘You! You are already too much in the news. And the National Police are after us and I would have thought you have enough already with the local police here. Has there been any news on that? Ferran is still very shaken about it. He won’t sleep at the apartment, you know. He says he hears screams from the terrace at night.’

  Meredith looked back towards the bathroom where the towel was soaking in detergent in the bath. ‘No news. I think the Mossos will have to just accept that poor Amy killed herself because of undiagnosed depression. It’s not as sexy as murder but this Inspector Fernández doesn’t have any evidence other than some old man who thinks he saw something, but this isn’t Rear Window, you know?’

  ‘Rear Window?’

  ‘You are a barbarian. It’s an old movie. A man in a wheelchair thinks he sees a murder in another apartment whilst spending a hot summer looking out of his rear window.’

  ‘And has he?’

  Meredith stretched out and yawned. ‘In the movie, yeah, but this isn’t a movie. It’s just the prosaic turning of life’s grim wheel and Amy couldn’t handle it anymore.’ She suddenly felt the need for him and pulled him close.

  After, she asked if he would show her where he was staying now and where they were preparing the art attack.

  He agreed eagerly. It was the first time that Meredith had shown an interest in spending time with him after they had had sex.

  They got dressed, and whilst he was putting his clothes on, Meredith took the towel out of the bath and hung it over the shower screen. They left the room. Meredith put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door and then headed out to where Edu had parked his ancient Vespa.

  They took off and headed north up Via Laietana. It was dusk, and the blue-red sky, the headlights of the traffic as it raced through the city, and the agile darting of the little moto as they filtered through the other cars, made Meredith feel briefly romantic. But then she thought back to Fernández and more than that, to her father, and she just clung on, wanting as always just to survive.

  The place he brought her to was a small two-storey building on the corner of a block of residential apartments in Gràcia. It was covered in stylish graffiti and an old man was sitting on a stool outside smoking a cigar and reading a newspaper.

  He greeted Edu and then knocked on the roller door behind him three times, and a few seconds later it was rolled up and a young woman with a straight fringe and wearing the usual accoutrements of a Gràcia bohemian – army fatigue shirt and tight black jeans and boots – threw her arms around Edu.

  Meredith stood there, feeling slightly self-conscious for a few seconds, and then Edu introduced her as one of his oldest friends, Claudia.

  ‘And this is the girl who has captured our Edu’s heart! Eres muy guapa. I can see why he has fallen so hard.’

  Meredith could see that Edu was blushing slightly and she enjoyed his discomfort, and at the same time was slightly concerned by Claudia’s comments as she hadn’t thought Edu saw their relationship as anything other than a summer fling. She glanced at him and winked.

  ‘Well, he is pretty gorgeous himself but don’t tell him I told you that,’ she pretended to whisper to Claudia.

  ‘He has stolen many hearts, so you’ – she linked arms with Meredith – ‘be careful with your own.’

  ‘I think I’ll be okay, but thanks for the warning.’

  She let Claudia show her round the small warehouse. Claudia explained that it was usually used for manufacturing and storing the papier-mâché giants that were a feature of so many Catalan fiestas and also for the annual Gràcia festival which had taken place a month before and so was the perfect place for them to bring in their own ‘art’ supplies.

  Edu walked just behind them and seemed to be enjoying the fact that Claudia and Meredith were getting along like old friends. No doubt this was some form of relationship test, thought Meredith, and she played the part to perfection, laughing at Claudia’s affectionate digs at Edu and making all the right comments in praise of what they had done and their plans for Diada.

  Claudia showed her boxes of red and yellow paint that would be used to splash the Catalan colours onto every surface not already covered with the same paint or cleaned by the city on national government orders, and boxes of firecrackers that would be used in the parade on the day itself. But the pièce de résistance was a pile of wooden crates covered in a green tarpaulin.

  ‘I will let Edu show you this, as it was his grand idea and you know boys and their toys!’


  Meredith and Claudia clinked together bottles of Estrella.

  ‘Well, I told you about this, but I am quite proud of it.’

  With a flourish, he pulled off the tarpaulin. Underneath were three large wooden packing cases. Edu slid the top off one of the cases and beckoned Meredith to come and look inside.

  It was machine guns. Meredith stepped back. ‘Jesus, you said you were going to paintball the town hall, not start a war.’

  Edu laughed and pulled out one of the guns. When it was out of its box Meredith could now see that in the space behind the magazine there was a small black container where the paintballs must go, but aside from that it looked like a standard AR-15 assault rifle.

  ‘They are good, no? We are the art terrorists!’ He brandished the gun and pulled a mock aggressive expression.

  Claudia laughed and picked up a gun as well. ‘We are going to make the town hall red and yellow and the media are going to have to give us wall-to-wall coverage. All the effect of a terrorist attack without the violence! Good, no?’

  Meredith raised her beer bottle. ‘I gotta hand it to you guys it’s a pretty sick stunt. When are you going to do it?’

  Claudia and Edu exchanged a mischievous look.

  ‘Early in the morning of Diada. Our crack team’ – they both laughed – ‘of insurgents will hit the town hall and other government buildings before dawn. It’s going to be cool. Want to join us?’ said Edu.

  Meredith thought of the Instagram possibilities. It would be something Amy would have liked doing: harmless paint-balling of a building – and the photographic possibilities were amazing – with the right filters the art attack and the ensuing red and yellow splatter pattern could be quite Pollackesque. ‘I think I’m going to have to pass. As you said, my profile is a bit high at the moment and it’s a bit early in the morning for me.’