Chapter 106
Elizabeth leaves Stephen sleeping. Bogdan will be around after work for a game of chess. She hopes they will both be there when she gets back. She’ll need the company.
Ron had come to her with the photograph that Karen Playfair had seen. Karen would have been young at the time, but she was sure.
Elizabeth had tried to piece it all together in her head. It seemed impossible at first, but as she thought about it, it began to seem horribly true. She worked out the steps one by one.
Ibrahim had come back an hour ago with the final piece of the jigsaw, so now is the time. The case is solved, and only justice remains.
Elizabeth walks out into the cold evening air, not turning back now.
The sky is getting darker earlier, and the scarves are coming out of the wardrobes.
Summer is still keeping a lid on autumn, but it won’t be long.
How many more autumns for Elizabeth? How many more years of slipping on a pair of comfortable boots and walking through the leaves?
One day, spring will come without her. The daffodils will always come up by the lake, but you won’t always be there to see them. So it goes; enjoy them while you can.
But right now, with the job at hand, Elizabeth feels an affinity with the late summer. The leaves clinging gamely on, the last hurrah of the heat, the odd trick still up its sleeve.
She sees Ron making his way over, grim-faced but ready. Hiding his limp, keeping his pain to himself. What a fine friend Ron is, she thinks. What a heart he has. Long may it go on beating.
As she turns the corner, she sees Ibrahim waiting by the door, folder in hand.
The last piece of the jigsaw. How handsome he looks, dressed for the occasion, ready to do whatever’s necessary.
That Ibrahim might ever die seems absurd to Elizabeth.
He will certainly be the last of them. The last oak in the forest, standing still and true, as the airplanes whiz overhead.
How to begin, thinks Elizabeth. How to even begin?