Page 41 of Go Now
‘My apologies.Ms Blackstone.To be fair, the reason given asks more questions than it answers.’
‘I can’t help that,’ she replied, with just a touch of ice.‘People’s prurient desire to know the private affairs of others is widespread and of long-standing.But that doesn’t oblige me tospill all, as I believe is the phrase.’
‘With respect, nothing can be private from a double murder investigation.That’s what a subpoena is for.’
‘Are youthreateningme?’
‘I’d certainly prefer to be interviewing you.’
Blackstone gazed at Kate coolly for a moment or two.Then she seemed to make a decision.
‘My mother is 90,’ she said.‘Her faith is important to her, increasingly so since the disappearance of my brother and the death of my father.And she felt that certain of the exhibits crossed the line between exploring spirituality and abusing it.I didn’t want to get into horse trading, if you get my drift.Having to say why this painting or this sculpture is permissible, while that one isn’t.You could debate that sort of thing for decades.In the end, I decided that the best and fairest course of action was to cancel the exhibition entirely.’
‘That must have caused a lot of disruption,’ Marcus said.‘I mean, I can’t imagine how much work goes into an exhibition.And you cancel the whole thing, just like that.’
‘Well, it wasn’t “just like that”.It took a great deal of consideration and deliberation.It was an agonising decision to make.’
‘But presumably your mother’s faith wasn’t something that came out of the blue.’
‘Of course not. As I said, it had intensified over recent years, but my mother’s faith is lifelong.’
‘So if you knew in advance how your mother was likely to feel,’ Marcus said.‘Why did you organize the exhibition in the first place?’
Blackstone looked flustered, or irritated, perhaps both.
‘Perhaps I should have… taken it into account from the get-go.But I didn’t.There was a lesson to be learned from that and I consider myself to have learned it.’
‘I’m sorry to change the subject,’ Kate said.‘But I’m conscious of how busy you must be.’Blackstone acknowledged the point with a gracious nod.‘When was the last time you had contact with your brother?’
'March 10th, 2020,' she replied.'He rang me.Said he had a job, working in a Hobby Lobby. Someplace in San Diego.He needed money to get his car fixed. It wasn't that simple, of course. It was always a great, long, complicated tale with Ray.This girl had ripped him off and stolen his keys so he had to break into his own apartment, and the cops caught him breaking in, so… et cetera, et cetera.You never knew what was true and what was just… padding.I wired him four hundred dollars.'
‘And he never asked you for any more money after that?’
‘That’s why I’m so confident that he’s dead.However, I still paid for a private detective to do some digging.A workmate saw him leaving work early, on March 31st.A not-especially reliable associate of his said that he’d borrowed gas money from him on the same day.And a pawnbroker in San Ysidro gave him 160 dollars for his signet ring.I couldn’t quite believe Ray had hung onto it for so long, to be honest.Anyway, the detective thought all those things were consistent with him heading over the border into Mexico.’
‘Do you think that’s likely?’
‘He spoke fluent Spanish.He also had a girlfriend who went to live in some kind of commune down there in Baja. But I rather suspected the detective wanted me to fund a little Mexican holiday, so we left it there.The stark truth is that we, as a family, have long expected Ray to turn up dead. Every day that goes by without a demand for money is further proof of the inevitable.’She brushed her left eye, although there was no visible tear.‘I should have said “request for money.” I do Ray a disservice.He never demanded.He was always polite.’
They rose from the uncomfortable couch and thanked her for her time.‘We may need to ask you some more questions,’ Kate said.‘And I’d like to talk to the private detective.Do you have his details?’
‘His name is Kiefaber,’ said Blackstone.‘He’s here in the city.You can look him up.’
In Central Park, they sat on a wooden bench that was far more comfortable than anything in Blackstone’s residence.Joggers went by in sweaty packs, dogs eyed them hopefully, assuming they’d have chips and sandwiches.
‘She’s not telling the whole truth about the cancelled exhibition,’ Kate said.
‘I agree.And I don’t think she’s telling us the full story about the brother, either.So what if the private eye wanted to go to Mexico?She could afford to send him to the moon.Why just stop looking for him?’
‘You think she could be protecting Ray?’Kate asked.
‘Or afraid of him.I vote we leave her a while.Let her think we’ve lost interest, gone down a different rabbit-hole.Then we bring her in for questioning.’
Kate was about to respond to Marcus’s plan when her phone rang. It was Chen, her voice taut, her breathing shallow.
‘There’s a third body.Out of town again, Hoboken.Victim’s name is David Sterling, a photographer. I’ll text you the address.’
They stood up, each tired but doing their best to marshal a new burst of energy. With it, came an unavoidable melancholy at the thought of another life claimed. How many was this killer going to take before they stopped him?
