Читать книгу Sam Bourne 4-Book Thriller Collection - Sam Bourne - Страница 48

FORTY-ONE

Sunday, 5.50pm, Brooklyn

There was no time to be self-conscious. Even so, he could tell TC felt strange to be in this place, the home of the man she had once loved and the woman he had made his wife. He saw her stealing glances at the photographs, especially the wedding collage – perhaps two dozen pictures, pressed under glass – that hung in their kitchen.

If it was odd for TC, it was horrible for Will. He had not been back since the day Beth went missing, visiting here only in his mind. Now he saw the calendar, covered in Beth’s handwriting. He saw a cardigan of hers, slung over a chair. He felt her absence so strongly, it made his eyes sting.

‘TC, you have to tell me what’s going on.’ Throughout their journey from Central Park, from the moment they had ditched Sandy, he had been pressing her to talk. But she was adamant.

‘Will, I’m not sure I’m right. And I know you: the moment I start talking, you’ll run off and do something and it could be a big mistake. We have to get this right. One hundred per cent right. There’s no room for guesswork.’

‘OK, I promise I won’t run anywhere. Just tell me.’

‘You can’t make that promise. And I don’t blame you. Trust me, Will. Please.’

‘So when am I going to find out?’

‘Soon. Tonight.’

‘You’ll tell me tonight?’

‘You’ll find out tonight. It won’t be me who tells you.’

‘Look, TC. Seriously. I’ve just about had it with riddles. What do you mean, it won’t be you who tells me?’

‘We’re going to Crown Heights. That’s where the answer is.’

‘We? You mean, you’re coming with me?

‘Yes, Will. It’s about time.’

‘Yeah, that’s true, I mean it makes sense—’ Will stopped himself. TC was staring at him expectantly. It took him a while to realize what her expression meant. She was waiting for him to ask another question.

‘What do you mean, “it’s about time”?’

‘Haven’t you guessed, Will? This whole weekend, everything we’ve been doing? You really haven’t guessed?’

‘Haven’t guessed what?’

She was turning away, avoiding his gaze. ‘Oh, Will. I’m really surprised.’

His voice rising: ‘What are you surprised at? What are you talking about?’

‘This is very hard for me, Will. I don’t quite know how to say it. But it’s about time I went, you know, back.’

‘Back? To Crown Heights?’

‘Yes, Will. Back to Crown Heights. I thought you’d guess ages ago. And I’ve been meaning to say something, but the moment never felt right. There’s been so much to think about, so much to work out. The Hassidim, the kidnapping and . . . Beth. But you have a right to know the truth.

‘So here is the truth. My name is Tova Chaya Lieberman. I was born in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. I am the third of nine children. There’s a reason I know this world, Will. I’ve always known it, inside out. It’s my world. These crazy Hassidim? I’m one of them.’