Chapter 41

41

The group's villa is tucked into a natural plateau at the end of the path. Needles from one of the pines above are scattered across the ground, crisscrossed over one another like pickup sticks.

As she raps on the door, Elin looks at pairs of shoes lined up outside—flip-flops, Birkenstocks, some sneakers. A pair of Reefs are noticeably larger than the rest, the rubber insoles still holding the imprint of feet.

Seth's. It touches her. All the things we leave behind.

The door clicks.

Elin looks up to find Jo framed in the doorway, phone in hand. Her blue short-sleeved dress pops against her tan but doesn't lift the tiredness from her face; her skin is sallow, the whites of her eyes laced with red. The ends of her hair, still wet, are dribbling onto the fabric, have left half-moons of damp on her shoulders.

"Ah, statements." Jo moves back to let Elin and Steed inside. The corridor behind is strewn with bags and clothing, as if they've already halfheartedly begun packing.

Elin steps forward. "Actually, no. We're not here to take statements." She clears her throat: this never gets any easier. "I'm afraid we have some bad news. About Seth."

"He hasn't done something stupid, has he?" Jo looks between them, shaking her head. "I knew it was wearing thin, playing the supportive boyfriend. Since we found out about Bea, he's pretty much checked out. Wakeboarding yesterday, and today I woke up to a message saying he'd gone kayaking." She pulls a face. "He's already in the bar, isn't he? Causing a scene—"

"Actually..." Steed starts, but doesn't get to finish his sentence.

Jo's talking again, rambling about Seth's questionable alcohol habits. Elin quickly realizes that it's a defense: she's sensed something's up, is delaying the inevitable. Her voice is too bright, the smile on her face too strained.

Elin gently touches her arm. "I'm afraid there's been an accident. I'm so sorry to have to tell you that Seth has died." As she speaks, the air-conditioning rattles, and for a moment she wonders if Jo has caught the end of her sentence—her expression is frozen between the forced smile of a moment ago and a curious kind of blankness.

But then she covers her mouth with her palm. "No... he can't... no..." A dry, hoarse sob emerges muffled from beneath it.

"I'm sorry," Elin repeats. "I know it's a shock."

It takes a little while for Jo to compose herself. "What... happened?" she says finally, chest still heaving.

"We don't know yet. We found him in the water in diving gear."

Jo is hollow-eyed. "Diving? But he was kayaking."

"He was in diving gear. Whether he kayaked or not beforehand, I'm not certain."

"Where was he?" A jerky exhalation.

"A little way out from one of the coves," Steed replies.

Jo's blinking rapidly. "But how do you know it's definitely him? You might be mistaken."

"We'll need someone to formally identify him, but we both recognized him. I'm sorry," Elin adds.

Jo crumples from her core. She's in a strange kind of crouch—hand clutching the doorframe for support. Elin glances around her, acutely aware of their position in the corridor. "Shall we go inside, get some privacy?"

Helping Jo upright, Elin leads her through the door on the left and into the living space. The room, like the corridor, is in a state: clothes strewn across the back of the chair, several half-empty coffee cups discarded on the side table. Through the glass doors on the opposite wall she can see swimwear drying on the chairs on the terrace.

Steed gestures to the double doors on the right, leading out into the corridor at the back of the room. "I'll close those so we won't get disturbed."

"Who was he diving with?" Jo blurts out.

Elin sits down beside her on the sofa and takes out her notebook. "As far as we know, he was alone," she replies as Steed settles opposite.

"But that doesn't make sense." Jo's foot is violently jiggling against the floor. "Seth's an experienced diver. He wouldn't go on his own."

"It appears he did. We need a specialist team to examine everything before we come to a conclusion, but it looks like he got into trouble underwater." Elin stops, reluctant to dwell on theories when she doesn't have all the facts. "Look, I know this is hard, but I'd like to ask you a few questions about when you saw Seth last, to help us piece together what happened."

"Of course. It was when we went to bed. This morning, I woke up late, about eightish." She sniffs, tears welling in her eyes. "Seth was already gone. He'd messaged me, saying he was kayaking. Like I said, it didn't surprise me, he hasn't exactly been enjoying the whole grieving family thing."

"And just so I'm clear on your whereabouts, you haven't left the villa today?"

"No. I've been in my room."

"You don't know if anyone else has?" Steed pulls a tissue from the box on the side, passes it to Jo.

"Thanks." She gives him a half smile. "Not sure, you'll have to ask them."

Elin nods. "One last thing: Tom, one of the water sports instructors, told me that Seth's father owns the retreat. Ronan Delaney."

"That's right." Jo picks at a piece of peeling sunburn on her hand. "But he's not really involved. A hotel company leases the retreat and runs it."

"I suppose you know that Seth's been here before?"

Bringing the tissue to her eyes, Jo wipes. "Yes. He likes getting away from London. A few years ago, he started his own digital agency. It's pretty hard work so he comes here to decompress."

"Do you know if he dives when he comes out here?"

A nod. "He loves diving. Anything adventurous."

"And have you come with him before?" Steed asks. Despite the fact that he's asking a question, his tone is caring, not intrusive. A fine art, and one that's rare in an inexperienced officer.

"No, this was my first time. I wish I'd come before now. He'd asked me, but I was always busy." Another sob sounds out.

Elin finishes writing her notes. Waiting until Jo composes herself, she asks, "Was it Seth's suggestion to come?"

"Actually, no, like I said before, someone mentioned the retreat in passing, and I told Seth. The coincidence seemed funny, so we got to talking about the fact that I'd never been. I reached out to the retreat and they offered a gifted stay. Nothing to do with Seth. That's how he likes it. Prefers flying under the radar."

"Does anyone else in your group know about his connection to the island?"

Jo shakes her head. "We wanted to keep it that way. People don't always have a very good impression of Seth, my family in particular. If they knew his father owned the island, they probably wouldn't have come."

"Why is that?" Steed asks.

"I think they'd have assumed this trip was some kind of boast..." Jo shrugs. "He's got form on that front, plus his attitude, it's a bit laissez-faire." She hesitates. "He acts like the clown, and it gets people's backs up. It's actually a front. Deep down, he's insecure. His childhood was pretty shit, despite the money. His father wasn't around much and he's always found it a huge pressure, being Ronan's son, all the expectation that comes with it."

"In what sense?" Elin says carefully, aware that this lends weight to their theory that the drugs thing could be some kind of rebellion.

"People assume he's ruthless, ambitious like Ronan, or some kind of wealthy dropout living off his dad's money. Seth is"—she blinks, corrects herself—" was , better than either of those things. I think sometimes he tried too hard to make people like him, but it actually put people off."

Steed nods. "Have you noticed any unusual behavior from Seth recently? Before you got here? During?"

"No. Nothing."

But Elin picks up on something; a fleeting shadow of an emotion slips across her features. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Jo meets Elin's gaze, then Steed's, but it's too direct, as if she's overcompensating.

Elin looks at Steed, disconcerted.

She's hiding something.

It feels wrong, that in the midst of grief someone could be calculating in any kind of way, but Elin knows that people's survival instincts can trump anything. Jo's concealing something, but she can't probe now. Too soon.

Elin closes her notebook. "Would you mind if we take a quick look around your room? It might give us a better idea of why he was out in the water."

"Of course," Jo replies, standing up, and Elin catches it again: a faint shadow of an emotion, impossible to decipher.