Endgame by Jeffrey Round Page A

report immediately for Shark Island.”
    â€œWhat about you?” Max said to Sandra. “Have you met him?”
    The timid-looking woman shook her head fearfully. “Never,” she said in a whisper. “I was hired over the phone, too. Someone called to say I’d been recommended.”
    â€œWho by?” Max asked.
    â€œI don’t know. He never said.”
    Spike turned to the group. “I think Harvey’s playing one of his very bad jokes on us …”
    â€œIt’s not a joke if he’s accusing us of murder,” Janice said in a subdued voice. “That’s what I think.”
    â€œWell, Harvey can go fuck himself,” Max said. “Nobody’s accusing anybody of anything. Except for Sandra and Edwards, everybody in that video was someone we used to know back in our party days. All good people. Good fucking people.” Here, he looked carefully over the crowd. “And most of those people are in this room right now.”
    â€œBut not everybody in that film is still alive,” Pete told them.
    â€œThat’s right,” Spike said. “Kent’s dead. And there were a few others I haven’t seen or heard of in years. Like Newt Merton and Werner Temple.”
    â€œThat little creep Werner,” Max said, shaking his head. “God knows I hope never to run into him again. The sight of him makes me sick.”
    Heads turned at the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. Noni Embrem stood before them, his drink outstretched as though he were about to make another toast. Something about his face said otherwise, however. His mouth hung open and his eyes looked wildly about the room. He seemed to be gasping for breath. He swayed before them, then dropped his glass and fell to the floor with a thud.
    Sandra knelt, feeling his neck for a pulse.
    â€œIce,” she said to Edwards. “Get me some ice and wrap it in a towel.”
    She began to apply pressure on Noni’s ribs, pushing down and releasing again, repeating the action. Edwards returned with ice wrapped in a hand towel. Sandra looked up, a stricken expression on her face.
    â€œHe’s dead,” she said.
    â€œWhat?” Janice looked down at Noni. “How? How can he be dead? He was all right at supper.”
    Sandra removed her fingers from Noni’s neck and sat back. “It must have been a heart attack. It was … very sudden.”
    â€œWell, do something! Aren’t you a trained nurse?” Sami Lee demanded, her eyes flashing.
    Sandra shook her head. “I don’t have the proper equipment for this sort of thing. We’re not prepared for emergencies. If I had a defibrillator, I might’ve been able to save him. But there’s nothing on the island,” she said, with a panicked look. “Really, you’ve got to believe me. There’s nothing I can do.”
    Edwards knelt and put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said. “We understand.”
    â€œIt was that fucking video,” Spike said angrily. “That’s what caused his heart attack. He’d just been accused of murder …”
    He let the statement hang in the air.
    â€œIt was awful,” Janice said, shaken.
    â€œHarvey will pay for this,” Max said, looking around the room.
    The others stood there silently, looking everywhere but at the dead man lying on the rug at their feet.
    â€œI suggest we should all think about making it an early night,” Edwards said after a moment. “The storm is nearly on us. I’ll make some calls. There’s nothing more we can do till the morning.”
    In all the commotion, no one had noticed how the wind had increased outside. They all heard it now.
    â€œI agree with Mr. Edwards,” said Sandra, looking around at the others.
    There were murmurs of assent around the room as one by one the guests started to drift off, glad to leave the problem in someone else’s