Chapter 46 Miles
Miles
In the absence of human conversation, Miles’s brain has been afforded a moment of clarity. Until now, he hasn’t been able to hear himself think under the noise of their own infighting. Now, there is a state of calm, albeit a very uneasy one.
There seems to be a growing suspicion towards George in relation to Elis’s murder.
George is a lot of things, but not a killer.
Everyone would be a great deal more suspicious of Miles if they knew about the conversation he had with Elis last night.
If they knew about the false alibi. If they knew about Elis’s threats to expose it.
Elis was the only one who knew that Miles’s alibi was made up.
Although Miles thinks his solicitor and barrister might know too, deep down.
In fact, despite his solicitor not suggesting it explicitly, it was basically his idea.
It’s amazing how much can be conveyed with just the eyes and a slight adjustment of facial muscles.
His solicitor had asked him where he’d gone after his date with Caira and then said pointedly: ‘Having a solid alibi would really help your defence.’ It seemed as clear an instruction as Miles had ever received.
It was his job to sort it out. Essentially, he’d been forced into the lie.
Not by his solicitor, but by circumstance.
By the police, who charged him despite failing to find any compelling evidence.
The lie worked fine. At least it did until Elis threatened to expose it.
That could have been a significant problem.
And now, it’s resolved. As terrible and gruesome and tragic as it is, Elis’s death appears suspiciously convenient for Miles.
Or it would, if anyone knew the context.
There’s no denying it: Miles has the strongest motive for killing Elis.
But Miles didn’t do it. And that begs the question: who did? And why?
For a start, the location of Elis’s body is strange.
What the hell was Elis doing at the bird hide in the middle of the night?
He wasn’t out looking for a signal – he’d left his phone in his bag.
When they first realised Elis was missing, Miles had assumed he’d legged it.
But Faith’s right: Elis wouldn’t leave without his stuff – especially his passport.
Miles’s best guess is that Elis went to the hide for some late-night birdwatching, although that still seems unlikely.
As for the motive, Miles can only think it was a case of mistaken identity.
The killer hadn’t come for Elis – they’d come for him.
Miles and Elis aren’t that similar in appearance, but in the dark – and nowhere is darker than the forest at night – it’s possible someone could have attacked Elis thinking he was Miles.
It makes him shudder. That knife was meant for him.
It was his throat they wanted cut. It seems probable that the killer had already come for Miles once, when he was at the hide with Jessie.
What would they have done, if Jessie hadn’t spotted them and caused them to flee? It doesn’t bear thinking about.
Despite having had no sleep, Miles finds himself restless. He rocks in his seat, picks at his clothing, digs under his fingernails. He has this overwhelming feeling that the person who has come for him is near. With every passing minute, he becomes surer of it.
Miles needs to get out of here. It doesn’t matter what anyone says: when dawn breaks, he’s leaving this forest and getting to safety.
The longer he stays here, the higher the chance that his stalker will be able to get to him.
The police have probably identified him by now, but Miles suspects they’re yet to track him down.
He’s close, Miles can sense it. Alex Burnfield.
He’s nearby. And he wants Miles dead. Outside, the sky is turning red.
Dawn is breaking. But what, and who, will it bring?
Burnfield. That name has been driving him mad. Burnfield. Burnfield.
‘What did you just say?’ Polly whispers.
Miles realises he’s been muttering under his breath. ‘Oh, nothing.’
‘You said Burnfield.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
Miles narrows his eyes at her. ‘Because that was the name my stalker used. When they checked in to the library to send the first email. You know this.’
‘No. You never told me that.’
‘I thought I did.’ But he didn’t. Miles remembers now: when he discussed it in the cable car, he was with George, Reubyn and Elis. Polly wasn’t there.
‘Well, don’t you think that’s odd?’ she whispers.
Miles sits up straight. ‘Why?’
‘Burnfield.’ She says the name with wide eyes, nodding as if he should know the answer.
‘It’s a weird name. I thought I’d heard it somewhere before, but I haven’t.’
Polly is still nodding, now more vigorously. ‘Yes, you have heard it before. We both have.’