‘You just do,’ he said. ‘Because everybody has to go through it, so we’re all in the same position.’ He pulled her closer. ‘Don’t worry, Al. It’ll be fine. Who’d you get anyway?’
Instead of answering him, she stood on her toes and kissed him. Kissed him until his hands moved down to her hips and pulled her closer. Kissed him until his breath came in short gasps. His hair was wet between her fingers and his lips cold against hers but she didn’t care. His warm breath filled her mouth and she was as close to him as she knew how to be.
Then without warning, he stopped and looked down at her, realisation clear in his eyes. ‘Oh hell, Allie. You got me, didn’t you?’
She nodded.
Carter swore under his breath. ‘Those utter bastards.’
‘So what you’re looking for are physical signs – sweating, for example,’ Eloise explained.
‘Gross.’ Staring at her shoes, Allie slid further down in her seat. She twisted the hem of her shirt around her fingers. Then untwisted it. And twisted it again.
‘Also fidgeting.’ The librarian glanced at her pointedly. ‘But these are very obvious indicators and, frankly, I would expect more from Carter.’
Allie bristled. ‘What does that mean?’
It was late morning, and Eloise had taken her out of her maths class for her first training session on interview techniques and lie detection. This was her area of speciality and Isabelle had insisted that she spend extra time with Allie, training her.
Normally cutting maths would have filled Allie with joy, but she was still too angry about being assigned to interview Carter to find any happiness in it.
‘It means,’ Eloise’s voice was patient, ‘that he’s had a lot of Night School training. So he’s probably quite skilled at deception.’
Her words chilled Allie as if they’d been chipped from ice.
Carter is the least deceptive person I know. He would never …
‘Right. Let’s try something different.’ Leaning back against the vividly painted wall, the librarian pulled her notebook on to her lap and flipped through the pages. They were in one of the study carrels at the back of the library. All the little rooms – each about the size of a small office with barely room for a desk and two chairs – were completely covered in seventeenth-century murals. This was the one Allie thought of as ‘Peace’, as the people in it were smiling. The cherubs fluttering near the ceiling seemed adorably plump and jolly. Nobody was killing anybody else like they were in the other rooms.
‘You tell me,’ Eloise continued, ‘what signs are you going to look out for in your next interview with Carter?’
Allie thought about Carter looking at her with those eyes, his long lashes sweeping downward when he was upset …
‘Sweating,’ she sighed. ‘And if he touches his …’ she waved a hand at her own face ‘you know … nose or mouth.’
‘Good. And do you know why people cover their mouth when they lie?’
Allie did know but, her lips set in a tight stubborn line, she shook her head anyway.
Eloise wore a stylish pair of narrow glasses that barely covered her eyes. They sparkled in the light as she spoke. ‘Some believe it’s a subconscious effort to hide the lie.’ She flipped a page in her notebook. ‘You should also be looking out for eye movements.’
‘Seriously?’ Allie frowned at her. ‘Like, if he looks shifty?’
‘Actually, the opposite,’ Eloise said. ‘You’re looking to see if he makes too much eye contact. When people lie they often concentrate on looking you in the eye, not realising they don’t normally do that.’ She pointed at Allie. ‘For example, just now when I said you should watch his eye movements, before you spoke you looked up to the ceiling. Why did you do that?’
‘I did?’ Allie squirmed in her seat. ‘I don’t … Did I really?’
Eloise nodded. ‘We do that when we’re thinking of an answer to a question. It’s like we’re trying to check our brain for the information we need.’ She leaned forward. ‘If Carter doesn’t do that when he’s thinking, he probably prepared the answer in advance.’
Sighing, Allie looked down at her hands, which were now twisted into a tight knot in her lap.
‘Great,’ she said, miserably.
‘Here.’ She handed Allie a sheet of paper with three questions written on it. ‘When you interview Carter, you must work these questions in. They have to be in your final report with his answers.’
Taking it, Allie stared at the first question. ‘Have you ever talked about me to Nathaniel or anyone who works for him?’ Her stomach churned.
When she spoke, her voice was sharp with tension. ‘Eloise, you know and I know that whoever the spy is, it’s not Carter. This is a waste of time. Why can’t we concentrate on finding who it really is? What if it’s Zelazny or Jerry? What if it’s you? Who’s interviewing you?’
Her voice rang out in the quiet room, and Eloise didn’t immediately respond. Instead she walked around to be closer to Allie. She took her glasses off, set them down and leaned forward. Her long dark hair was pulled back loosely. Not for the first time, Allie noticed how young she was. As she leaned forward, her face unlined, her brown eyes clear, she could have been another student.
‘Look, Allie,’ she said, her voice more gentle now, ‘I know you’re having a rough time with this. And we all knew you might. That’s why we’ve asked you to do it.’