Page 99 of A Game of Lies

‘I told Aliyah I knew what Ceri’s secret was. And she totally fell for it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m a really good actress. My drama teacher said—’

‘No, I mean why did you lie to Aliyah?’

‘For the views!’ Zee gave a patronising sigh. ‘If I knew when someone was going to be chucked out, I could be in the right place at the right time. Anyway, it served her right,’ she muttered, ‘putting it about like that.’ She saw the look on Leo’s face. ‘What? I was just playing the game, like the rest of them were.’

‘A game that ended with someone getting murdered,’ Leo said. ‘Why didn’t you show us this video sooner?’

‘I’ve got a lot of footage. Likea lot. I basically just film everything, ’cause you never know what you’re going to need later. Anyway, Caleb reckons his girlfriend overheard you lot saying Ceri was the murderer, so I figured I’d need some background shots for when she’s arrested – like, behind-the-scenes stuff, you know? – and I remembered this. So that alibis her, right?’ Zee grinned.

‘And you filmed this yourself?’ Leo said.

‘Obvs.’

‘So it alibis you, too.’

‘Yeah, but …’ Zee’s mouth had fallen open. ‘I wasn’t … Oh, my God, was I on your suspect list?’

‘Everyone’s on my suspect list,’ Leo said. ‘Right, you’re coming with me. I want every second of video footage you’ve got from the day of the murder.’

Over the next hour Leo had gone through the downloaded contents of Zee’s photo album, satisfying himself that she’d recorded nothing else of interest, before updating DCI Boccacci that they could eliminate both Ceri Jones and Zee Hart from their enquiries.

‘Who does that leave?’ the DCI had said. The question was rhetorical.

It left no one. Not a single suspect with the means, motive and opportunity to kill Miles Young.

The final column of Leo’s spreadsheet gives the decision made by Young Productions in relation to each applicant. A series of red ‘No’s blurs before Leo’s eyes, as he scrolls mindlessly down the alphabetical list. He almost misses the first green ‘Yes’, but scrolls back. Aliyah Brown. Leo clicks on the verdict column and sets the filter to find all the successful applicants. Six lines appear on the screen.

Leo counts them. ‘George, how manyExposurecontestants are there?’ he asks, even though he knows the answer.

‘Seven.’

Leo reads the names to himself. ‘That’s odd.’

‘What is?’

‘It’s probably nothing,’ he says, but his nerve-endings are tingling. Experience tells him that if something looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s almost certainly a duck.

‘What?’ George is out of her seat, reading the names over Leo’s shoulder. ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘There’s one missing.’

‘Miles put seven contestants into theExposurecamp.’ Leo looks at George. ‘But only six of them applied.’

THIRTY-EIGHT

TUESDAY | FFION

Ffion knocks on the door of number four, The Shore. There are thirty wood-clad cabins in the now-sprawling resort, but few with the enviable views of numbers one to five. These flagship cabins, which stood alone for the best part of a year, have decks that stretch over the water, so that standing on the balcony of the master bedroom is like being on the prow of a ship.

Nowadays The Shore boasts a restaurant – the Shore Shack – and a luxury spa calledShh!which sends blissed-out berobed clients out to the covered hot tub on its raised platform. The new rows of cabins have been built on a terrace, each row higher than the one in front, so that every bedroom has a view of the lake. Ffion feels the weight of them above her, watching.

Caleb’s mother, Clemmie Northcote, opens the door. She’s a short, curvy woman with short hair accented with streaks of blue and pink. She smiles broadly at Ffion. ‘Bore da, Ffion, sut wyt ti?’

‘Da iawn, diolch. Is Caleb in?’ Ffion doesn’t have time to indulge Clemmie’s faltering Welsh beyond the obligatoryhow are yous. ‘I need to speak to him urgently.’

‘I’ll give him a shout. Do you want to come in?’

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