Free Who Wants to Live Forever? by Steve Wilson Page B

foul mood but just went back to his makeshift tent. He claimed he fired the revolver twice in an attempt to bag a rabbit, but missed — the gun jumped on firing, and needed a practised, and sober, hand to be truly accurate. He claimed they must have been the two shots heard by witnesses.
    “The prosecution, on the other hand, asked why a bullet of the same calibre, 11.6 millimetres, was dug out from Scott’s body. Marsland could only reply that many of those guns were still in existence, and anybody could have had and used one. The jury didn’t believe him, but Marsland wasn’t sentenced to death. The judge had some sympathy for his predicament and also took note of his distinguished war record, and sentenced him to life in prison. It was all academic, though, for Marsland died two years later in Strangeways, from a destroyed liver as the result of all his heavy drinking.”
    Louise stopped then, waiting for us to speak. I didn’t let her down. “So I suppose the point of all this is, did Rose really die or did she shoot Scott and get off, pardon the pun, Scott-free.”
    “Yes, Ethan, that is right. Why would Marsland shoot Rose? And if he did, why would he take her body away and not Harold’s? He was a strong man; carrying Harold’s corpse would not have been a problem, and then it would have made it seem likely that Harold had committed the murder, not himself.”
    “Perhaps he was too drunk to think that logically,” said Debbie.
    “Yes, he might have been, but if he was that drunk, why did he take Rose’s body? It wasn’t as if he could have thrown her overboard at sea and let the ocean take her; any body in the canal would soon have been discovered. And, if he was guilty, wherever he did take her, her body was never found. So once again, there are quite a few things to ponder on here. Why don’t we go for our coffee break and talk about this more in fifteen minutes’ time?”
    ***
    Emma remained in the classroom. She hadn’t said a word during the entire evening, and I wondered what was troubling her.
    “I’ll be with you in a minute,” I said to Trish. “Could you get me a coffee, please? White, no sugar,” I added, handing her a few coins.
    I returned to the classroom and walked over to Emma. “Why don’t you come and join us?” I asked. She jumped as if she had been so deeply engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t known I was there. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Is anything wrong?”
    For a moment, I thought she was going to tell me everything, but then I saw her jaw clench shut and realised now probably wasn’t the right time. “Okay, I can see you’re busy right now, but how about afterwards? The rest of us are going for a drink when the class finishes, and you’d be very welcome to join us.”
    Emma stared at me, and then she smiled. It was a genuine, warm smile. “Thanks, Ethan, I appreciate that. Honestly, I do. I’d love to, but I can’t. There’s something I have to do afterwards …” Her voice trailed off and she retreated once more into the private world that I had just awoken her from.
    Puzzled, I left her and went to join the others. Trish handed me my coffee. “What was all that about?”
    “Oh, I was just asking Emma if she wanted to join us for a drink afterwards, but she said she can’t make it.”
    Gail looked up from her cup as I mentioned this, and I was sure I detected a look of panic on her face. She saw me looking at her, so, trying to avoid an awkward situation, I said the first thing that came into my head. “How is your husband doing?”
    “Why? What have you heard?”
    “Nothing. Why, should I have done?” I looked around at the others, but Trish just shrugged her shoulders, and Debbie shook her head. “I was just wondering whether he had any more international journeys planned with his job.”
    “Oh.” I detected a sense of relief in her answer. “No,” she added slowly, “I explained all that last week. I told you that the