that room of his? I wonder, as I climb the steps to the front door. And what about his strange behaviour, not wanting to let me see inside that room? I need to find a way to get into it. I feel sure it’ll hold answers.
I knock on the front door – still having no key – and Sebastian opens it. He asks me straightaway how things are and what the police wanted. He’s anxious, I bet, that the police haven’t given him away to me for his spying, so I smile politely and respond to his friendliness in kind, faking it as much as I can so he doesn’t get suspicious that I know he’s a slimy, spying liar. I’m vague with details about what the police wanted, saying it was just to run through some details about Kate’s history. He seems to buy it.
After turning down a cup of tea with him I make my excuses and head to my bedroom, passing the recording room and eyeing the sleek door without a handle, only a keyhole. Where is the key? He must have it on him.
In my bedroom a feeling of claustrophobia presses in on me. All I want to do is grab my things and leave. I’m desperate to get the hell out of here. But I need to get into that room.
I had Sebastian on my suspect list at the very start and for some reason dropped him – because I thought he was too weak and too pathetic to have been able to overpower Kate – but thinking on it now, he was angry about the noise and the extra guests. It’s possible he went upstairs to complain when I was passed out, and he got in a fight with Kate about it. I can totally see Kate telling him where to go if he made a complaint. She wouldn’t have liked it. And she wouldn’t have held back from telling him so.
‘Hello?’
I startle. Sebastian is standing in the doorway to my room. I try not to look frightened but can’t help the quick glance around as I search for something to defend myself with.
‘I’m going out,’ Sebastian tells me.
‘OK,’ I say, my heart pounding. ‘Could you leave a key?’
‘You’re going out again?’ he questions.
‘I might do,’ I answer, wondering why he cares so much.
‘It’s only that I don’t have another set,’ he explains, essentially confirming the fact that he doesn’t rent this room out ever. He holds up his key ring as he says it, which contains a cluster of a dozen keys.
‘Right,’ I say. How do I get those keys away from him? ‘Well maybe I could order food in. Can you recommend anywhere that does delivery?’ I ask.
He nods, eager to help. ‘Of course, here.’ He gestures for me to follow him into the kitchen. I do, keeping my eyes on the keys as he sets them down on the side. He opens a drawer and pulls out a pile of delivery menus.
‘Some are in Portuguese,’ he says. ‘Do you know what you want?’
I shake my head. ‘No, what’s good?’ I ask, my focus on the keys.
‘There’s pizza, Thai, tacos.’
‘Pizza,’ I mumble.
He hands me the menu. ‘If you choose I can order for you.’
‘Thanks,’ I say taking the menu. I watch Sebastian reach for the keys and drop them into his leather backpack. Shit.
‘A small Hawaiian is fine,’ I tell him, handing him back the menu.
He smiles and takes out his phone to place the order, turning away for a moment to do it. It’s my chance. Without stopping to think about it I reach into his bag and grasp hold of the keys, gripping them tight to stop them clinking together, and pull them quickly out.
Sebastian turns, his eyes flashing to his bag and then to me. Did he see?
‘And some garlic bread,’ I tell him, smiling widely.
He must be able to see the sweat on my brow and the pulse jumping like live bait in my throat but he says nothing, just adds to the order and then hangs up. ‘It will be here in twenty-five minutes,’ he tells me.
‘Wonderful,’ I say. ‘Thanks.’
I am holding the keys still in my fist, hidden behind my back. I need to get out of here without him noticing they’re gone and that I have them, but his gaze is already falling to my odd stance and he’s frowning. He must have seen.
I stretch my other arm high in the air and pretend to