Page 60 of The House Guest

But how? How could it ...

An idea came to me.

I had previously assumed that Eden and the cult had decided to recruit Ruth because they had seen her work and found out, through social media, that she was in New York. But that explanation had never quite sat right with me. It involved too much luck.

A better explanation could be this: Jack or Mona had told someone that an up-and-coming actress was coming to house-sit for them. That someone had looked Ruth up and decided, for whatever reason, that she would make a perfect recruit. So they sent in Eden to check her out.

It was the most likely explanation I could think of right now.

I needed to speak to Mona.

I know you probably don’t want to see anyone at the moment, I texted. But could we meet?

I only had to wait a minute for a response.

I hung around the reception of the Lotte New York Palace, underdressed and out of place in my shorts and T-shirt. The concierge gave me a look that Sally Klay would have been proud of. In fact, this place reminded me of the cruise ship, full of wealthy older people, and I wondered why Mona had chosen to stay here. Perhaps temporarily living somewhere so grand and otherworldly helped provide a kind of cushion; a way of barricading herself from the ugly side of urban life. Or maybe it was simply that she was rich, and this was the kind of place where she felt comfortable. She had, after all, chosen to go on a cruise.

I didn’t have to wait long. Mona appeared, walking over from the lifts like someone who was in physical pain but trying not to show it, like the Little Mermaid when she chooses to stay in human form. She held herself erect, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, dressed all in black.

I stood as she approached and gave her a hug.

‘How are you?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know how to answer that.’ Her voice was flat; the irony and fizz that made her so much fun to be around was missing. ‘Numb, I guess. Everything seems dulled. Like, this is maybe a weird comparison, but when you switch from watching a TV show in HD to whatever the other one is called.’

‘Standard definition.’

‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said again. ‘But ... at least they’ve caught the guy who did it.’ She merely nodded so I went on. ‘Krugman told me it was a burglar.’

‘A kid, he told me. Some nineteen-year-old kid trying to get money to buy drugs.’ I wished I could see her eyes. Then I might not have felt like I was talking to a robot.

‘Do you know his name?’ I asked. ‘The guy who did it?’

‘Dennis told me. But what does it matter?’

‘I don’t know. I was just wondering ...’

I had been wondering if the burglar was a member of the cult, or someone they had hired to kill Jack, perhaps because they feared he would remember who he had spoken to about Ruth coming to stay – the person who had led Eden and the cult to our door.

Or maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe Mona or Jack had spoken to Eden directly.

‘Can I show you Eden’s picture? Just so you can tell me if you recognise her.’

I got my phone out before she could protest. I already had the photo of Eden open. I held it up so Mona could see it.

For a moment, I thought she was going to refuse to look at it. But then she took her sunglasses off – her eyes were bloodshot and puffy – and leaned forward. She studied the picture for several seconds.

‘I don’t know her.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m certain. She looks like a thousand other pretty West Coast girls. I’ve never seen her before in my life.’

‘But she knew you,’ I said. ‘She knew details about your lives. What about Jack? Might he have spoken to her?’

‘How am I supposed to know that?’ she snapped at me, then looked contrite. ‘I’m sorry, Adam, but my husband has just died. I really don’t want to think about any of this.’

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