saying something in my ear. I tuned in to hear her say, ‘I’ll call you back later.’
‘No, wait—’
But it was too late. She had hung up, and she had called me from a blocked number so I couldn’t ring back.
The buzzer sounded again. I returned to the window. After a few moments the man stepped away from the door – and looked up at me.
Our eyes met.
He was in his thirties, with dark hair. Chiselled. He looked like a film star. He stared at me, not moving, not breaking eye contact.
I raised my phone, zoomed in and took a photo of him.
He didn’t like that. He stepped out of my line of sight, back towards the apartment. I expected him to start pressing the buzzer again, but all was silent.
I went over to the front door of the apartment and peered out through the spyhole. Nothing.
I should call the police. But Wanda’s words echoed in my mind. How could I tell them what was going on without telling them about Krugman’s death?
The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Perhaps the man was gone. I went back over to the window and, fumbling with my phone, tried to call Callum. It went straight to voicemail. I left a message, then sent him a text, telling him there was someone here.
And then I heard it.
Scratching at the apartment door.
He was inside the building, trying to pick the lock.
Chapter 34
Ruth had been pacing for an hour, wondering if anyone was going to come and see her – Gabriel had promised he’d be back to continue their conversation from yesterday – when Eden came into the room.
Ruth started talking immediately. ‘Gabriel told me about Jack. Why didn’t you tell me?’
Eden hung her head. ‘Oh, Ruth. I’m sorry. I was planning to . . .’
‘Do you know when the funeral’s going to happen? I want to go. And I need to get in touch with Mona, to offer my condolences. Have you seen her? How is she?’
‘I spoke to her. She’s as you’d expect. The coroner has just released the body so I think the funeral is going to be in a few days’ time. We can go together. Assuming . . .’
‘Assuming what?’
‘Did Gabriel talk to you about us?’
‘He did.’
‘And how are you feeling about everything?’
Ruth laughed. ‘To be honest, I don’t understand it all. He was saying he can help me, that he wants me to join you, but I don’t get what that means. He said he can give me the world.’ She shook her head. It was such a grand statement – so vague and broad – that it was virtually meaningless.
‘Gabriel is a fan,’ Eden said.
‘Yeah, he said. To be honest, I find it quite embarrassing.’ When he had been talking to her, looking into her eyes, it had all felt real. Important. But now . . . ‘I just want to get out of here. I really want to talk to Mona. You’ve all been very kind, but it’s time to move on.’
Did she imagine it, or was that a flicker of annoyance on Eden’s face? But it vanished as soon as it had appeared.
‘Gabriel doesn’t want you to go. Not yet.’
‘I know. He wants me to hang around, talk to him some more. But honestly, Eden, I’m tired of talking. I’m going stir-crazy. I need to get out of here. I have to get on with my life. Also, I really need my phone back.’
‘I told you, it broke when you fell.’
‘Yes, but surely the SIM didn’t break? Give me that and I can put it in a new phone.’
Eden didn’t respond to that. Instead, she sat on the bed. ‘Ruth, I’m going to be blunt with you. If you walk out of here now, you might go on to be successful. You’ve got talent, looks. You’re a good actress. But you also have a black mark against your name. You’re the woman who walked out of her first big Broadway role before it had even begun.’
‘I didn’t walk out!’
‘Doesn’t matter. That’s what the world thinks. You also told me that your agent isn’t very good. Maybe none of that matters. Maybe Hollywood won’t care, and in a couple of years’ time I’ll be watching you collect your first Oscar. But the road ahead is going to be hard. How many actresses go to Hollywood with an indie hit behind them thinking they’re going to make it? I lived there, Ruth. I saw it. The streets are littered