Close to Death

Something stopped me. I was thinking about what Dudley had said. I went back downstairs and let myself out into the autumn sunshine. Eight weeks had passed since Hawthorne and I had first discussed the book that I was now calling Close to Death and the new season had crept up on me, as it does for so many writers, without being noticed. There were leaves blowing in the street and a metallic quality to the sky: all too soon the Christmas lights would be going up. I found a bench on the other side of the road with a good view of River Court and sat down, half hoping that I might catch sight of Hawthorne going in or out. I didn’t want to speak to him. There was no need. I knew now that we did, after all, have a book. I knew how it ended.

Dudley had turned out to be central to everything that had happened. I hadn’t realised quite what part he’d play when I’d first introduced him, arriving with Hawthorne at Riverview Close. When I was writing those pages, I’d thought he was just the sidekick. Like me.

But now I remembered the way he had looked at me when I asked him about the death of Adam Strauss, the story he’d told me about the reflections he’d glimpsed in the mirror, Strauss and his wife. Monsters. Evil. That was how he had described them.

I know that I’m not much of a detective. Time after time, I’ve followed in Hawthorne’s footsteps, getting everything wrong. I’ve made stupid mistakes and even put my own life in danger. I’ll be the first to admit that Hawthorne was right and that Dudley was in every way sharper than me. But this time, just for once, I’d guessed the truth all on my own and I knew that I was right.

The triumph. They were celebrating. They had got away with it.

Just like Terence Stagg.

Even before I’d walked out of the flat, I’d realised that it wasn’t Dudley who had found out what Hawthorne had done and who had chosen to walk away from him, but the other way round. It wasn’t Hawthorne who had pushed Adam Strauss off that balcony. It was Dudley – and Morton had known it all along. The moment I had started asking questions, Morton had decided to send Dudley as far away as possible. As for Hawthorne, he knew it too, but he had kept silent even when he had become the subject of a police investigation and still remained the number-one suspect in Adam Strauss’s murder. Even I had thought the worst of him, but Hawthorne would go on protecting Dudley because they had been eight-years-olds together, sharing a life about which I still knew almost nothing. Because they were friends.

I sat there for perhaps an hour before a taxi pulled up opposite me. I saw Hawthorne get out. He paid the driver and walked slowly towards the front door of River Court, found his keys and let himself in. I didn’t call out to him. I waited until he had disappeared.

Then I got up and walked away.

Acknowledgements

This was quite a complicated novel to write . . . mainly because of the different timelines.

The events at Riverview Close take place during the months of June and July 2014 – but it wasn’t until 2019 that Hawthorne and I sat down and he told me about the death of Giles Kenworthy and what had followed. We had a series of meetings over a period of eight weeks and I didn’t actually finish writing the book until April 2020, missing the Christmas deadline that my agent, Hilda Starke, had demanded.

It didn’t matter anyway. For one reason and another, Close to Death has only been published in 2024 – so there was no need for all that pressure in the first place.

I only mention this because I want to pay a special tribute to my copy editor, Caroline Johnson, who has had to pull together all the separate strands, work out what was happening and when, where I was at the time, what Hawthorne was doing and how it all fitted together. Without her, the book wouldn’t have made any sense at all, although, conversely, if there are any mistakes, it’s entirely her fault.

By coincidence, I actually moved to Richmond shortly after I finished the book and I want to thank the writer Michael Frayn, who provided me with further details about Riverview Close and its residents. He happens to live near the close and I was very fortunate to meet him. I was also given some very useful insights by Harry Matovu, KC, a senior Silk at the Commercial Bar who has been recognised four times running by Powerlist as one of the most influential black professionals in the UK. I had, of course, spoken to Andrew Pennington, but Harry told me a great deal more.

A word of thanks to Jon Emin, who had briefly resided in Riverview Close. He was so pleased to be mentioned in the book that he gave a generous donation to Home-Start in Suffolk, a brilliant charity working in the community. I’m a patron. I’m also grateful to Jeffrey Hunter White, my online stress counsellor (based in Palm Springs), who was always ready with advice and support.