Page 90 of Whistle

Standish asked for a glass of water. Annie ran the tap, filled a glass, and then Standish suggested they both take a seat. Standish asked, “Where did you and Charlie go today?”

“Just... driving. We’d talked about heading back to the city, but Charlie didn’t want to, so we settled on an outing.”

“Why were you thinking about going back to New York?”

Annie took a moment. “Just... Charlie misses his friends.”

“So tell me about this outing.”

“We went into Fenelon and had lunch and then kind of explored. We did that the other day, found an airport and a pick-your-own strawberries place, and today we went in another direction.”

“When did you get home?”

“Just after four.” She bit her lip, her eyes looking up toward the ceiling. “I saw the car in the driveway and recognized it, I said to Charlie, oh, look who’s here. He didn’t know, because he’d never seen Fin’s car, but I explained. And since Fin wasn’t sitting on the porch or hanging around outside, I figured he must have been inside.”

“He had a key? Or had you left the house unlocked when you went out?”

“It was locked. I’m only guessing, but you should call this Candace person? The leasing agent? Fin arranged all this—setting me and Charlie up with this place for the summer—so he might have called ahead, asked her to let him in or to leave a key somewhere. So he could... surprise us.”

Annie thinking,He sure did that.

“And so, since the house was probably open, once Charlie was out of the car he ran in fast as he could, and...” Annie stopped, struggling to regain her composure. She took a couple of deep breaths, and continued. “He was inside and he starting shouting and I ran in and there he was.”

“At the bottom of the stairs. You didn’t touch him or move him.”

Annie said, “I didn’t move him. But I got down and put my hands on him and I guess I was shouting his name, but...”

“Okay, I understand.” Standish took a sip of water.

“I didn’t want Charlie to see. I told him to go back outside and I called 911. And then I came out to the porch until you got here.”

“He didn’t call ahead? Let you know he was coming?”

Annie shook her head, glanced at the counter. “I guess he wanted to surprise us. He brought some of our favorite things. Bagels. Some wine and pastrami in the fridge.”

“Your relationship with Mr. Sproule is a business one?”

“He’s my editor.” Annie had explained what she did for a living, that Finnegan had booked her this place as a kind of retreat to help her unwind before starting her next project. “Oh God, there’s so many people that need to be called.”

“Was he married?”

“No,” Annie said. “No spouse, no children. But there must be other family. And everyone at the house will be devastated.”

“House?”

“The publishing house. The people he worked with. This is so horrible.” She put her head into her hands for a moment before asking, “What do you think happened?”

“That’s what we have to determine,” Standish said. “Did he have any health problems that you know of?”

“No. I mean, maybe he did, but he didn’t share them with me. Do you think he had a heart attack?”

“That’s something the coroner will have to determine. It appears he broke his neck. And he was at the bottom of the stairs. He might have tripped coming down them. Or maybe he did have a heart attack, or blacked out, or something, when he was at the top of the stairs, and then when he fell he suffered an additional injury.”

“Why would he have gone upstairs?” Annie asked.

“I don’t know. I was about to ask you.”

Annie, puzzled, shook her head. “I could see him coming into the house when we weren’t here to put things here in the kitchen, but I don’t think he’d go snooping around upstairs,”

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