Joaquim struggles to turn his head to look at me, with his cheek still pressed hard to the ground. ‘Nothing,’ he says through gritted teeth, his indignation shining through.
‘Then why is she missing?’
‘I told you, I don’t know!’
‘Why did I find blood in her room then?’ I ask. ‘And a broken glass?’
‘She knocked over a glass of wine!’
Is he telling the truth?
‘What happened that night?’ I ask. ‘I passed out. I don’t remember anything. I woke up and Kate was gone. You’re the last people who saw her.’
His expression alters, his indignation giving way to puzzlement. He frowns and shakes his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he croaks. ‘We left. I swear to God I don’t know where she is!’
Konstandin’s knuckles are white where he’s gripping Joaquim by the collar, almost strangling him. He looks at me and I nod. He eases his grip.
‘Don’t try to run again,’ he warns and then says something in husky Portuguese that makes Joaquim turn pale and stare at him with unchecked fear. I wonder if it’s something about kidneys and rectums but this time I’m grateful because we can’t have him disappearing on us, not now.
I take a deep breath and turn to Joaquim who is now sitting up, dusting off his trousers with a scowl. Konstandin hovers over him, one hand on his collar still, keeping him in place.
‘Did you drug me?’ I ask, my voice shaking.
Joaquim is wiping at the blood on his chin but double-takes at me. ‘What?’ he asks.
‘Did you put something in my drink to make me pass out?’
‘No,’ he says, angrily spitting the words. ‘You were drunk,’ he tells me, scornfully.
‘I was more than drunk,’ I shoot back.
‘Well, if you were drugged it wasn’t by me,’ he answers. ‘I don’t drug women.’
‘Did we have sex?’ I ask, trying to block Konstandin out. I can feel his eyes snapping to me and the humiliation is almost too much to bear but I need to know the answer.
Joaquim looks at me like I’ve punched him in the face. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I don’t have sex with drunk women.’
‘So why was there a condom wrapper in my bed if we didn’t have sex?’
Joaquim’s mouth purses tightly. Konstandin’s fist suddenly connects with Joaquim’s temple, knocking him sideways. He lets out a cry of surprise and pain.
‘Answer her,’ Konstandin demands, bringing up his fist again and threatening him with it.
‘She put it there,’ Joaquim says, wincing and shooting an angry look at Konstandin.
‘Who put it there?’ I interrupt, not understanding what he means.
‘Your friend,’ he hisses, turning on me.
‘Why?’ I ask, so confused I wonder if he’s understood the question correctly. ‘Why would Kate do that?’
Joaquim shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she wanted you to think you’d had sex with me.’
‘Why?’ I ask, confusion battling with the almighty relief I feel that nothing actually did happen. I wasn’t sexually assaulted without my knowledge.
‘I don’t know,’ Joaquim growls. ‘Ask her.’
‘I can’t!’ I shout at him. ‘She’s missing. I’ve told you!’
‘And I’ve told you I don’t know where she is.’
I study him. Is he telling the truth? My gut says he is. His confusion and anger seem too intense to be fake.
‘But she hired you?’ Konstandin asks. ‘You admit that?’
Joaquim scowls at Konstandin, then he nods. ‘Yeah, she hired us.’
‘To sleep with her?’ I ask, still trying to wrap my head around the condom wrapper in my bed and why Kate would have put it there. The only reason would be if she wanted me to think I’d had sex, just as Joaquim suggested. But why on earth would she do that?
‘She paid us to spend the night. Emanuel to have sex with her, and me with you, but like I said, you were too drunk.’
I grit my teeth in anger. ‘Did she give you a reason why she hired you? Did she say anything at all?’
Joaquim shakes his head. ‘No. She just said we were to come back to the apartment with her and a friend – that would be you – and have sex. Emanuel had sex with your friend.’
‘How many times?’ I ask, wanting to verify his account against what I know.
‘Twice,’ he says.
I nod, thinking of the two used condoms I found.
‘Then we left.’
‘What time did you leave?’ I ask.
He shrugs, eyes downcast. ‘About three I think. I don’t remember.’
Konstandin slugs him in the jaw. I let out a startled cry.
‘Not my face!’ Joaquim shouts. ‘Fuck!’ He cradles his jaw, shoulders hunched.