overshadowed by him.”
“Why was that?”
“Well, it was difficult not to be. Gabriel was special, even as a child.” Max had a habit of playing with his wedding ring. He kept turning it around his finger as he talked. “Gabriel used to carry his camera everywhere, you know, taking pictures. My father thought he was mad. Turns out he was a bit of a genius, my brother. Do you know his work?”
I smiled diplomatically. I had no desire to get into a discussion of Gabriel’s merits as a photographer.
Instead I steered the conversation back to Alicia. “You must have known her quite well?”
“Alicia? Must I?” Something in Max changed at the mention of her name. His warmth evaporated. His tone was cold. “I don’t know if I can help you. I didn’t represent Alicia in court. I can put you in touch with my colleague Patrick Doherty if you want details about the trial.”
“That’s not the kind of information I’m after.”
“No?” Max gave me a curious look. “As a psychotherapist, it can’t be common practice to meet your patient’s lawyer?”
“Not if my patient can speak for herself, no.”
Max seemed to mull this over. “I see. Well, as I said, I don’t know how I can help, so—”
“I just have a couple of questions.”
“Very well. Fire away.”
“I remember reading in the press at the time that you saw Gabriel and Alicia the night before the murder?”
“Yes, we had dinner together.”
“How did they seem?”
Max’s eyes glazed over. Presumably he’d been asked this question hundreds of times, and his response was automatic, without thinking. “Normal. Totally normal.”
“And Alicia?”
“Normal.” He shrugged. “Maybe a bit more jumpy than usual, but…”
“But?”
“Nothing.”
I sensed there was more. I waited.
And after a moment, Max went on, “I don’t know how much you know about their relationship.”
“Only what I read in the papers.”
“And what did you read?”
“That they were happy.”
“Happy?” Max smiled coldly. “Oh, they were happy. Gabriel did everything he could to make her happy.”
“I see.” But I didn’t see. I didn’t know where Max was going.
I must have looked puzzled because he shrugged. “I’m not going to elaborate. If it’s gossip you’re after, talk to Jean-Felix, not me.”
“Jean-Felix?”
“Jean-Felix Martin. Alicia’s gallerist. They’d known each other for years. As thick as thieves. Never liked him much, if I’m honest.”
“I’m not interested in gossip.” I made a mental note to talk to Jean-Felix as soon as possible. “I’m more interested in your personal opinion. May I ask you a direct question?”
“I thought you just did.”
“Did you like Alicia?”
Max looked at me expressionlessly as he spoke. “Of course I did.”
I didn’t believe him. “I sense you’re wearing two different hats. The lawyer’s hat, which is understandably discreet. And the brother’s hat. It’s the brother I came to see.”
There was a pause. I wondered if Max was about to ask me to leave. He seemed about to say something but changed his mind. Then he suddenly left the desk and went to the window. He opened it. There was a blast of cold air. Max breathed in deeply, as if the room had been stifling him.
Finally he said in a low voice, “The truth is … I hated her … I loathed her.”
I didn’t say anything. I waited for him to go on.
He kept looking out the window and said slowly, “Gabriel wasn’t just my brother, he was my best friend. He was the kindest man you ever met. Too kind. And all his talent, his goodness, his passion for life—wiped out, because of that bitch. It wasn’t just his life she destroyed—it was mine too. Thank God my parents didn’t live to see it.” Max choked up, suddenly emotional.
It was hard not to sense his pain, and I felt sorry for him. “It must have been extremely difficult for you to organize Alicia’s defense.”
Max shut the window and returned to the desk. He had regained control of himself. He was wearing the lawyer’s hat again. Neutral, balanced, emotionless.
He shrugged. “It’s what Gabriel would have wanted. He wanted the best for Alicia, always. He was mad about her. She was just mad.”
“You think she was insane?”
“You tell me—you’re her shrink.”
“What do you think?”
“I know what I observed.”
“And what was that?”
“Mood swings. Rages. Violent fits. She’d break things, smash stuff up. Gabriel told me she threatened to murder him on several occasions. I should have listened, done something—after she tried to kill herself, I should have intervened, insisted she got some help. But I didn’t. Gabriel was determined to protect her, and like an