“Hmmm.” Colonel Yashimoto slumped down against the table and ran a crust of bread through the now thoroughly soft butter. “Probably so. But if I was her, a beautiful girl like that married to a brute like him, I’d change my story to saying the husband caught her in bed with the waiter and attacked them — with a knife maybe. And that she killed him in self-defense.”
“In bed with the waiter out there in the mud?” Tama nodded sourly. “Well, it’s an idea — and one that I’m sure will occur to her lawyer.” His lips tightened and he glared angrily at Colonel Yashimoto. “But what I want to know, no matter what happens to this wretched woman, is, what am I going to do now for my supply of foie gras?”