In the chapel scene on the screen, Ashton was continuing his leisurely stroll among the students and their “facilitators,” but Gurney had stopped paying attention.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the velvet back cushion of his chair. He concentrated as best he could on the simple feeling of his breath passing in and out through his nostrils. He was trying to clear his mind of what felt like an incoherent tangle of debris. He almost succeeded, but one little item refused to be swept away.
One little item.
It was a comment by Hardwick that had been gnawing at the edge of his consciousness-the comment he’d made when Gurney had asked him if he could tell what Ashton was saying to the girl who’d walked over to him when he entered the chapel.
Hardwick had replied that Ashton’s voice, amid all the others in the chapel, was indistinct, the words indecipherable.
He could have said absolutely anything to her.
That notion had been bothering Gurney.
And now he knew why.
It had triggered a memory, at first below the level of consciousness.
But now it came vividly to mind.
Another time. Another place. Scott Ashton in earnest conversation with a young blonde on the broad sweep of a manicured lawn. A conversation that could not be overheard. A conversation whose words were lost in the undertone of two hundred other voices. A conversation in which Scott Ashton could have said anything to Jillian Perry.
He could have said anything. And that single fact could change everything.
Hardwick was watching him. “You all right?”
Gurney nodded slightly, as if any greater movement might jar apart the infinitely delicate chain of possibilities he was considering.
He could have said anything. There really was no way of knowing what he said, because the actual voices couldn’t be heard. So what might he have said?
Suppose what he said was, “No matter what happens, don’t say a word.”
Suppose what he said was, “No matter what happens, don’t open the door.”
Suppose what he said was, “I have a surprise for you. Shut your eyes tight.”
Good God, suppose that’s exactly what he said! “For the biggest surprise of your life, shut your eyes tight.”
Chapter 76
“The hell’s the matter?” demanded Hardwick.
Gurney just shook his head, not ready to answer, as he followed the logical chain of possibilities in his mind with an animal excitement that brought him to his feet. He began to pace, slowly at first, across the antique carpet in front of Ashton’s desk. The large porcelain lamp on the near corner cast a soft circle of light, illuminating the intricate garden design in the carpet’s fine weave.
If he was right-and it was at least possible that he was right-what would follow from that?
On the screen, Ashton could be seen standing next to one of the dark red drapes that covered portions of the chapel walls, his gaze drifting benignly over the assembly.
“What is it?” demanded Hardwick. “The hell’s on your mind?”
Gurney stopped his pacing long enough to lower the sound slightly on the computer monitor in order to better focus on his own train of thought. “That comment you made a minute ago? That Ashton could have said anything?”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“You may have demolished one of the key assumptions we’ve been making about Jillian’s murder.”
“What assumption?”
“The biggest one of all. The assumption that we know why she went into the cottage.”
“Well, we know why she said she went in. On the video she told Ashton she wanted to persuade Flores to come out for the wedding toast. And Ashton argued with her. Told her not to bother with Flores. But she went right the fuck in, anyway.”
Gurney’s eyes gleamed. “Suppose that conversation never happened.”
“It was on the video.” Hardwick looked as annoyed by Gurney’s excitement as he was confused by what Gurney was saying.
Gurney spoke slowly, as if each word were precious. “That conversation isn’t actually on the reception video.”
“Of course it is.”
“No. What’s recorded on the video is a meeting between Scott Ashton and Jillian Perry on the lawn, at the reception, in the background of the scene-too far in the background for the camera to record their voices. The ‘conversation’ you’re recalling-and that everyone who’s seen that video has been recalling-is Scott Ashton’s description of the conversation to Burt Luntz and his wife, after it occurred. The fact is, we have no way of knowing what Jillian actually said to him or what he said to Jillian. And until now we’ve had no reason to question it. All we really have is what Ashton claims was said. And as you commented a minute ago on his inaudible conversation with that blonde in the chapel, he could have said anything.”
“Okay,” said Hardwick uncertainly. “Ashton could have said anything. I get that. But what do you think he actually said to her? I mean, what’s the point of this? Why would he lie about Jillian’s reason for going into the cottage?”
“I can think of at least one horrible reason. My point is-once again-we don’t know what we thought we knew. All we really know is that they spoke to each other and she went into the cottage.”
Hardwick began tapping impatiently on the carved arm of his thronelike chair. “That’s not all we know. Don’t I remember someone going to get her? Knocking at the cottage door? One of the catering people? And wasn’t she already dead-or at least not able to answer the door? I’m not getting where the hell you’re going with this.”
“Let’s start at the beginning. If you look at the actual visual evidence and forget the narrative we’ve been given, the question is, is there another credible narrative that’s consistent with what we see happening on the screen?”
“Like what?”
“On the video it looks like Jillian gets Ashton’s attention and points at her watch. Okay. Suppose he’d asked her to remind him when it was time for the wedding toast. And suppose when he went over to her, he told her that he had a huge surprise for her and he wanted her to go into the cottage, because that’s where he was going to give it to her-just before the toast. She should go into the cottage, lock the door, and be completely quiet. No matter who came to the door, she shouldn’t open it or say a word. It was all part of the big surprise, and she’d understand it all later.”
Hardwick was paying serious attention now. “So you’re saying that she may have been perfectly fine when the catering person knocked on the door?”
“And then when Ashton himself opened the door with his key, suppose he said something like, ‘Shut your eyes tight. Shut your eyes tight-for the biggest surprise of your life.’ ”
“And then what?”
Gurney paused. “You remember Jason Strunk?”
Hardwick frowned. “The serial killer? What’s he got to do with this?”
“Remember how he killed his victims?”
“Wasn’t he the one who chopped them up, then mailed the pieces to the local cops?”
“Right. But it’s the weapon he used that I was thinking about.”
“Meat cleaver, wasn’t it? Razor-sharp Japanese thing.”
“And he carried it in a simple plastic sheath under his jacket.”
“So… what are you saying? Oh, no, come on! You’re not saying that… that Scott Ashton went into the cottage, told his brand-new wife to close her eyes, and then chopped her head off?”