was the best thing I ever did. You have no idea how free I feel
.
‘He was gone, Mr Mackenzie. Why would I want to kill him?’
*
After the interview Sime left Blanc to dismantle their equipment, and found Kirsty Cowell standing out on the stoop. The rain was blowing horizontally off the gulf and into the porch. But she didn’t seem to mind. She stood facing the wind and rain, something defiant in her stance, arms folded, face lifted slightly, rainwater running off it like tears. He stood beside her and felt the rain in his own face.
‘It’s going to be bad,’ she said, without turning to look at him.
‘So I’m told.’ The roar of the sea breaking over rocks at the foot of the south-facing cliffs below was almost deafening, and he had to raise his voice to be heard. ‘I’d like you to stay here tonight. Unless there’s somewhere else you want to go.’ He nodded towards the house that Cowell had built. ‘That’s off-limits.’
‘I’ll stay here.’
‘An officer will be posted in the big house overnight.’
She turned to look at him. ‘Am I a suspect?’
‘You’re not under arrest, if that’s what you mean. The officer will be there to maintain the integrity of the crime scene.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you have any friends, or relatives, that you’d like to come and stay with you?’
She shook her head. ‘I have plenty of acquaintances, Mr Mackenzie, but I have never made friends easily. And my only surviving relative is my cousin Jack. But he lives over on Havre Aubert and works shifts in the salt-mine up north. We really have very little contact, and almost nothing in common.’
Again she turned her gaze on him, and he found it hard to stop himself feeling some kind of emotional response.
‘I’m not going to leave the island, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t left it in more than ten years, and I have no intention of leaving it now.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why won’t you leave the island?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I had to, of course, when I was younger. When my parents sent to me secondary school on Prince Edward Island. And then again when I went to university in Lennoxville. Which was fine, as long as my folks were still here. But my mom died during my final year. Cancer. And my dad went not long after. Just couldn’t face life without her, and gave up the fight. I haven’t been off the island since I buried him back there in the churchyard.’
She smiled. The first one Sime had seen. But it was sad.
‘It used to drive James mad. Oh, in the beginning he thought it was delightfully eccentric. Exotic, even. The two of us holed up here together, him flying off to conduct his business wherever it took him, then returning to this love nest he had built for us.’ She glanced wistfully towards the big house. ‘Where his love would always be waiting. The one constant he could always rely on.’ She turned her back on the weather and leaned against the rail, gazing up at the house where she had been born. ‘What he didn’t know was that when he was gone I hardly ever slept in his bed. I came over here. Like coming back to the womb. There is comfort and love in this house, Mr Mackenzie. The house that James built is cold and empty. Which is how it made me feel.’
She sighed deeply and turned to look at Sime once more.
‘Of course, he tired of my eccentricity soon enough. It frustrated him, became a source of friction. He liked to travel, you see. To dine in fine restaurants. And he had always wanted to go to Europe. None of which was possible with astupid wife who wouldn’t leave a tiny island in the middle of the Gulf of St Lawrence.’
She stopped now, searching his face, a slightly puzzled look creasing around her eyes.
‘Why is it so easy to talk to you?’
Sime smiled. ‘That’s my job.’
‘And that’s why I am telling you things I’ve never told anyone in my life?’
His eyes never wavered from hers. ‘You still haven’t told
.
‘He was gone, Mr Mackenzie. Why would I want to kill him?’
*
After the interview Sime left Blanc to dismantle their equipment, and found Kirsty Cowell standing out on the stoop. The rain was blowing horizontally off the gulf and into the porch. But she didn’t seem to mind. She stood facing the wind and rain, something defiant in her stance, arms folded, face lifted slightly, rainwater running off it like tears. He stood beside her and felt the rain in his own face.
‘It’s going to be bad,’ she said, without turning to look at him.
‘So I’m told.’ The roar of the sea breaking over rocks at the foot of the south-facing cliffs below was almost deafening, and he had to raise his voice to be heard. ‘I’d like you to stay here tonight. Unless there’s somewhere else you want to go.’ He nodded towards the house that Cowell had built. ‘That’s off-limits.’
‘I’ll stay here.’
‘An officer will be posted in the big house overnight.’
She turned to look at him. ‘Am I a suspect?’
‘You’re not under arrest, if that’s what you mean. The officer will be there to maintain the integrity of the crime scene.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you have any friends, or relatives, that you’d like to come and stay with you?’
She shook her head. ‘I have plenty of acquaintances, Mr Mackenzie, but I have never made friends easily. And my only surviving relative is my cousin Jack. But he lives over on Havre Aubert and works shifts in the salt-mine up north. We really have very little contact, and almost nothing in common.’
Again she turned her gaze on him, and he found it hard to stop himself feeling some kind of emotional response.
‘I’m not going to leave the island, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t left it in more than ten years, and I have no intention of leaving it now.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why won’t you leave the island?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I had to, of course, when I was younger. When my parents sent to me secondary school on Prince Edward Island. And then again when I went to university in Lennoxville. Which was fine, as long as my folks were still here. But my mom died during my final year. Cancer. And my dad went not long after. Just couldn’t face life without her, and gave up the fight. I haven’t been off the island since I buried him back there in the churchyard.’
She smiled. The first one Sime had seen. But it was sad.
‘It used to drive James mad. Oh, in the beginning he thought it was delightfully eccentric. Exotic, even. The two of us holed up here together, him flying off to conduct his business wherever it took him, then returning to this love nest he had built for us.’ She glanced wistfully towards the big house. ‘Where his love would always be waiting. The one constant he could always rely on.’ She turned her back on the weather and leaned against the rail, gazing up at the house where she had been born. ‘What he didn’t know was that when he was gone I hardly ever slept in his bed. I came over here. Like coming back to the womb. There is comfort and love in this house, Mr Mackenzie. The house that James built is cold and empty. Which is how it made me feel.’
She sighed deeply and turned to look at Sime once more.
‘Of course, he tired of my eccentricity soon enough. It frustrated him, became a source of friction. He liked to travel, you see. To dine in fine restaurants. And he had always wanted to go to Europe. None of which was possible with astupid wife who wouldn’t leave a tiny island in the middle of the Gulf of St Lawrence.’
She stopped now, searching his face, a slightly puzzled look creasing around her eyes.
‘Why is it so easy to talk to you?’
Sime smiled. ‘That’s my job.’
‘And that’s why I am telling you things I’ve never told anyone in my life?’
His eyes never wavered from hers. ‘You still haven’t told
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