even more surprised that he noticed. Shock turned him into a stranger to himself, he was slowly beginning to realize. "I'm so sorry," he said, knowing how pointless words were but unable to avoid them.
He'd leaned into him, exhausted by grief. Alex was suddenly aware that a uniformed woman constable was sitting discreetly in the corner. She must have brought a chair through from the dining room, he thought irrelevantly. So, no privacy for He'd in spite of her appalling loss. It didn't take much to work out that she was going to face the same suspicious eyes that had fixed on Paul after Ziggy's death, even though this sounded like a burglary gone horribly wrong.
"I feel as if I'm in some terrible dream. And I just want to wake up," He'd said wearily.
"You're still in shock."
"I don't know what I am. Or where I am. Nothing feels real."
"I can't believe it either."
"He was just lying there," He'd said softly. "Blood all over him. I touched his neck, to see if there was a pulse. But you know, I was so careful not to get his blood on me. Isn't that terrible? He was lying there dead and all I could think about was how they turned you four into suspects just because you tried to help a dying girl. So I didn't want to get my David's blood on me." Her fingers convulsively shredded a tissue. "That's terrible. I couldn't bring myself to hold him because I was thinking about myself."
Alex squeezed her shoulder. "It's understandable. Knowing what we know. But nobody could think this had anything to do with you."
He'd made a harsh sound in the back of her throat and glanced up at the policewoman. "On parle fran-is, oui?"
What the hell was this? "莂 va," Alex replied, wondering if his holiday French was up to whatever He'd wanted to tell him. "Mais lentement."
"I'll keep it simple," she said in French. "I need your advice. You understand?"
Alex nodded. "Yes, I understand."
He'd shivered. "I can't believe I'm even thinking this now. But I don't want to be blamed for this." She clutched his hand. "I'm scared, Alex. I am the foreign wife, I am the suspect."
"I don't think so." He tried to sound reassuring, but his words seemed to flow over He'd without leaving a trace.
She nodded. "Alex, there is something that will make me look bad. Very bad. Once a week, I went out alone. David thought I met some French friends." He'd squeezed the tissue into a tight ball. "I lied to him, Alex. I have a lover."
"Ah," Alex said. It felt too much, on top of the news the night had already brought. He didn't want to be He'd's confidant. He'd never liked her, and he didn't think he was necessarily to be trusted with her secrets.
"David had no idea. God help me, I wish now I had never done this. I loved him, you know? But he was very needy. And it was hard. So, a while back, I met this woman, completely different from David in every way. I didn't mean for it to turn out the way it did, but we became lovers."
"Ah," Alex said again. His French wasn't up to demanding how the hell she could do that to Mondo, how she could claim to love a man she'd consistently betrayed. Besides, it wasn't the best move to start a row in front of a cop. You didn't have to speak a foreign tongue to understand tones of voice and body language. He'd wasn't the only one who felt like she was in the middle of a bad dream. One of his oldest friends had been murdered, and his widow was confessing to a lesbian love affair? He couldn't take it on board right now. Stuff like this didn't happen to people like him.
"I was with her this evening. If the police find out, they will think, ah, she has a lover, they must be in it together. But that's wrong. Jackie was no threat to my marriage. I didn't stop loving David just because I was sleeping with someone else. So should I tell the truth? Or should I keep quiet and hope they don't find out?" She drew away slightly, so she could direct her anxious gaze into Alex's eyes. "I don't know what to do, and I'm really scared."
Alex felt his grip on reality slipping. What the hell was she playing at? Was she playing some grotesque double bluff