all that I had to clutch the banister, deny deny deny and get a lawyer, they can’t prove anything . . .
Rafferty and Kerr and Hugo were in the hall. Their heads turned, sharply and simultaneously, towards me on the stairs. The detectives were dressed for autumn, long overcoats and Kerr had a hat that belonged on Al Capone; Hugo—I half-noticed it without being able to work out what it meant—had changed out of his pajamas and dressing gown, into sort-of-decent tweed trousers and a clean shirt and jumper. There was something unsettling in the way the three of them were arranged, standing apart, positioned precisely as chess pieces against the geometry of the floor tiles.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Toby,” Rafferty said—cheerily, completely at ease, as if the last time had never happened. “I like the haircut. Listen, your uncle’s going to come down to the station with us for a bit. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back to you safe and sound.”
“What?” I said, after a blank moment. “Why?”
“We need to take a statement,” Kerr said.
“But,” I said. I was confused. All three of them were looking at me as if I had walked in on some private transaction, a business deal, a drug deal, something where I was irrelevant and unwanted. “You can do that here.”
“Not this time,” Rafferty explained genially. “It varies.”
I didn’t get this; I didn’t like it. “He’s sick,” I said. “He’s got—”
“I know, yeah. We’ll take good care of him.”
“He’s been having seizures.”
“That’s good to know. We’ll keep an eye out.” To Hugo: “Do you need any medication for that?”
“I have it here,” Hugo said, touching his breast pocket.
“Hugo,” I said. “What’s going on?”
He pushed his hair off his forehead. It was brushed smooth; that and the good clothes gave its length a sudden ravaged elegance, famous conductor fallen on hard times. “I rang Detective Rafferty,” he said gently, “and explained to him that I was responsible for Dominic Ganly’s death.”
After a second of utter silence: “What the fuck,” I said.
“I should have done it weeks ago—well, obviously I should have done it years ago. But it would take a certain kind of person to do that, wouldn’t it, and apparently I’m not that kind; or wasn’t, anyway, until now.”
“Wait,” I said. “Hugo. What the fuck are you doing?”
He regarded me through his glasses, somberly, as if from an immense distance. “At this stage,” he explained, “it doesn’t feel like something I can keep to myself any longer. That seizure the other day, that was a bit of a wake-up call.”
Kerr was shifting his weight, wanting to get moving. “Remember,” Rafferty said, from where he had melted away to the sidelines, “you are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but anything you do say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence. You remember that, yeah?”
“I know,” Hugo said. He found his coat on the stand and started shouldering it on, awkwardly, shifting his cane from hand to hand.
“And you’re sure about the solicitor. Because I’m telling you now, you should have one for this.”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll call Dad,” I said, too loudly. “He’ll come right down. Don’t say anything till—”
“No you won’t,” Hugo said—distracted, shoving at a sleeve that wouldn’t go right. “Do you hear me? You won’t go bothering your father, or your uncles, or your cousins. Just let me get this done in peace.”
“He needs a lawyer,” I said, to Rafferty. “You can’t talk to him without one.”
He turned up his palms. “It’s his call.”
“He can’t make that call. He’s not, his mind isn’t— He’s been getting confused. Forgetting things.”
“Toby,” Hugo said, with a flash of irritation. “Please stop this.”
“I’m serious. He’s, he’s not”—the word came back to me—“he’s not competent to make that kind of decision.”
“We don’t determine competence,” Kerr said, rolling one shoulder and wincing at the crack. “That’s for the court to deal with.”
“If things go that far,” Rafferty put in.
“Yeah, if. All we know right now is, Mr. Hennessy wants to tell us something, so we need to take his statement.”
“But he’s imagined the whole thing. He didn’t kill anyone. It’s a, some kind of hallucination, it’s—” Hugo was fumbling at coat buttons—“Hugo, please.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Hugo told me, with something between amusement and annoyance, “but honestly, Toby, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“If it’s a hallucination,” Rafferty told me, “then there’s nothing to worry about. We’ll sort it out, no problem, bring him straight home.”