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“And what about his brother? You got along with Nathan?”

“Sure. I like his stuff. He was totally different from Sid. Like they came from different planets. You have a brother or sister?”

“I’ve got a brother on Mars.”

“I didn’t have a brother or sister. We were a very talked-about Italian family when I was young.”

“You say you admired Nathan’s work?”

“God yes. Didn’t you? Or did you ever see it? He was so wonderfully clear-headed.”

“He tried to pass himself off as a little simple in a social way. Claimed not to notice things. Does that ring true?”

“Nathan noticed what he wanted to notice. You’ve seen his stuff. You can’t do that sort of thing without being an observer all your life. Gosh, I hate to think about Nathan. I mean it’s so bloody depressing. When you think of all the bums without any talent. Without even any talent for living. You know what I mean?” I nodded and she was off again. I’d had a rough beginning with Pia Morley, but now I was on to her. Her natural mode was talking. This time it was about Nathan getting reviewed in American papers before his work was written up in the Canadian papers. Then she was on about prophets in their own country which I didn’t follow. I tried to lead her gently back to my investigation.

“You talked with him on Friday. He called you?”

“What? Oh, yes. Nathan called me. He sounded worried and he usually came to me with his worries. He and a dozen others. I tried to tell him I needed a break, right? That I needed some space, but he sounded so pathetic, and I’m the world’s greatest sucker. So I agreed to drop in at the studio as soon as I could get free. Nathan was practically the only person I ever smoked dope with any more. We used to do that a lot, now we do it for old times and giggle. Would you like to share a joint, Mr. C?” She opened up a box on the table-top and in with the cigarettes were half a dozen expertly rolled joints of marijuana. I shook my head and she closed the lid, like it was jellybeans she’d offered me. I tried to pick up my end of the interview.

“Around when was that?”

“Was what? Oh, when I got free. Well, I was out at the gun club with you until after dark. It must have been around ten or ten thirty when I got back here. Sid was wondering where I’d been and I had to tell him something credible. Then we played gin rummy for an hour. Sid had to go out around 11:30. I had a soak in the tub then went out for cigarettes. When I got to Nathan’s studio it was somewhere between midnight and one. He looked so pitiful lying there, all doubled up. I don’t want to think about it. I won’t sleep.”

“The coroner says that he died between midnight and two in the morning. If you saw him dead in the hour between midnight and one, that narrows our time for when the murder was committed.”

“That’s great. I mean good for you. But what about me? I found him during the critical time. Doesn’t that make me numero uno? Top suspect?”

“You could have done it, then asked Alex to see what you left behind. The cops like a neat package like that.”

“Shit. All that stuff went through my head when I was standing there in his studio. If I’d called the cops, they would have crucified me.”

“Did you touch the body?”

“I had to see if he was still alive. He was still warm, but I knew he was dead. I mean you don’t recover when you get stabbed with a knife like that. It must have been a yard long.”

“What!”

“Well, I’m exaggerating a little. But it was more than a foot.”

“Are you saying that the knife was lying there?”

“Sure, I’m not a total incompetent at telling a story.”

“But, what I mean is, the knife wasn’t in the studio when I got there. There was no murder weapon found.”

“But it was right there on the floor.”

“Until somebody picked it up and carried it away.”

“I’ve got to have another drink. You want one?” Pia got up and poured a generous belt of Scotch into a tumbler and gulped it down standing there. She didn’t move in the direction of getting me another drink. Maybe she could sense what kind of drinker I was. Holding on to the glass with both hands, she came back to the couch. She didn’t say anything for a long time. Then: “Benny, are you saying that the murderer came back for the knife?”

“Not necessarily, Pia. The murderer could have still been in the studio when you came in.”

“Oh, my God! He was there?”

“How long were you in the studio altogether?”

“I came in, closed the door, and called Nathan. He didn’t answer so I went up to his apartment on the second floor. I didn’t like spending time with the statues at night any more than it took to walk by them. At night they were scary. Upstairs I found … You know what I found.”

“How did you happen to leave your lighter? Did you have a cigarette?”

“I’m vague on the details after I found the body. I remember thinking … No, it wasn’t even thinking. It’s what you do instead of thinking when panic sets in. I remember the telephone. Wondering should I use it. I don’t think I had a cigarette. I wasn’t there long enough. I think I just arrived, looked at the body, then got confused and left. I came right home and got into the tub. That’s the only safe place in the world.”

“Then how did you lose your lighter?”

“It must have fallen out of my bag when I put it down to examine Nathan. I don’t know. I only remember that in the morning I didn’t have it, and I knew where I didn’t want to have it found.”

“You didn’t have a cigarette before going to bed? What I mean is why didn’t you notice that the lighter was missing after you got back here?”

“I guess I used the table lighter. When I’ve got both I use either one. I don’t know. And there is such a thing as matches. All I know is that I didn’t really start to worry until morning. And that’s when I called Alex.”

“Did Alex answer the phone himself?”

“Yes. He tried to calm me down. I was next door to going out of my mind.”

“Did he call you by the name he used to call you in the old days?”

“You mean did he call me Toni? Sure. He always calls me Toni. It’s from Antonioni, my family name.” She looked at me strangely, like I’d just correctly identified the name on the label of her brassiere. “What has this got to do with my lighter?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know yet. Okay, I’ll return to that. You’re sure you have no recollection of putting it down?”

“No.” Pia was sitting holding on to herself. Her right hand was holding on tightly to her left elbow and the left hand was clutching her right upper arm. This resulted in a pucker of breast showing at the V-neck of her housecoat. It was a nice effect. She could tell I liked it.

“Think, now. You didn’t leave the lighter on, say, the coffee-table in Nathan’s apartment?”

“I wasn’t near the coffee … Oh, Benny, I can’t think any more. I can’t remember what I remember. I don’t think I put it down anywhere. But that’s the word of an idiot.”

“Okay. Don’t strain yourself. Is it possible that you didn’t lose the lighter at the studio? Could you have left it someplace else earlier? Don’t answer now. Think about it.”

“What are you going to do now, Benny?”

“I wish I knew. I feel like I’m holding on to a bundle of rope that’s all tangled up. So far I’ve found at least six ends. I don’t know if I’ll ever get it straightened out.”