„So you risked your life for her, and then she cheated on you.“
„Louisa didn’t ask me to get her out of that camp.“ Malakhai mashed his stub in the ashtray and stared at Louisa’s cigarette, burned down by half, dark and smokeless. „In Central Park, there’s a wide pedestrian boulevard. It leads away from the band shell. Very dramatic space, lined with statues and benches. Do you know it?“
Mallory nodded. She had recently spent some time there, pacing between the long rows of trees that formed a canopy of overgrown branches.
„It’s not Paris,“ he said. „But it’ll do. Our last night in France, Louisa and Max met with me in a place like that. It was a few hours before showtime at Faustine’s. Accordion music was coming from some bistro across the park. I remember the tune was bright, and the rain was falling. I held an umbrella over Louisa. She was very upset – frightened. Wanted posters had been delivered to the local police station. The next day, the whole city was going to be papered with Louisa’s photograph and the offer of a bounty. Emile St. John had warned her that morning.“
„What kind of connections did St. John have?“
„Emile was a policeman. I told you we all had day jobs. Louisa was desperate. She wanted to make a run for the Spanish frontier. Well, that was suicide. No exit visas were being issued, and security was tight all along the border. Spain had closed like a door. If we tried to use Nick’s forgeries, we’d be arrested. Louisa said she’d rather die than go back to the camp, the interrogations. She was determined to leave France that night – without me. Said she didn’t want me to take one more risk, not for her sake.“
He poured another glass of wine. „I think I laughed at that. I told her I would always take care of her.“ He poured a glass for his wife. „And then Louisa said she was in love with my best friend. I remember Max’s face – all that pain. And tears? I’m not sure now. That might’ve been the rain.“ He exhaled a cloud of smoke and watched it swirling upward. „I hope Max was crying.“
„You hated him.“
He shook his head. „What was I feeling? It was like the three of us had been in a terrible road accident. I was shocked by the sudden damage, the impact. And then this odd hollowness. I always imagined death that way, the soul floating out, weightless, nothing solid to hold it to the earth anymore.“
„Then Louisa sent Max away – so we could have a private moment, my wife and I. You know what I remember best? The smell of her wet wool coat. That was the last time Louisa put her arms around me. She asked me to forgive her – and Max.“
„You were angry.“
„No, I don’t think so – not then. After she’d gone, I put a cigarette in my mouth. I remember standing there like a fool, striking matches in the rain.“
„And that was the night you changed Louisa’s plans to make a run for the border. You shot her with the crossbow during the opening act. But you weren’t in the theater when she was being killed. You ran away.“
Everything in his face was asking how she could possibly know that.
„You were too young to pass for an officer. And Mr. Halpern said you couldn’t speak the language well enough to pass for a German. But there were always German soldiers in the theater. So after you shot Louisa, you had to run.“
He nodded.
She pressed on. „It looked like a magic trick gone wrong. Does that sound familiar? Poor old Oliver. But let’s stick with Louisa’s murder. What were the odds the French cops would want to find you? An SS officer who shot an unarmed woman and ran away? No, the local police wouldn’t look too hard. Much easier to report the death as an accident – less embarrassing for everyone. And while you were running away, your wife was being murdered backstage.“
When Malakhai turned to the ashtray, it contained a fresh cigarette stained with lipstick in Louisa’s shade. He looked at his wife’s glass. It was half empty.
Mallory closed the purse on the wet sponge soaked with wine. „So you left your wife lying there on the stage, bleeding. Now you’re out on the street. You peeled off the German uniform and stashed it in an alley. You wore street clothes underneath. None of this took more than a few minutes. But Louisa was dead when you got back to the theater.“
He flicked his lighter. The flame trembled so slightly, Mallory might have missed it if she had not been watching for every sign of weakness. He was staring at the ashtray again – and Louisa’s cigarette. Now it was only a mashed-out stub fetched from Mallory’s purse. He must be wondering if he was missing time, whole minutes, the length of a smoke.
The waiter had returned to the table. He was asking permission to remove Louisa’s remnants. Malakhai glanced at the cast-off shrimp tails on his wife’s plate. But he had not tampered with the food. How, then? His choices were three: madness, loss of memory – or Mallory.
The waiter left them with a clean ashtray, removing the evidence of the cigarette stub. Mallory had not yet touched her wine. Malakhai drank deeply.
„You risked your life for Louisa, and then she slept with your best friend. But you did get even with her. That must be a comfort.“
No reaction. He had gone elsewhere, traveling in his thoughts.
„You know what was going through your wife’s mind when you actually shot her – when you drew real blood?“
He was back again, more alert now, watching her – waiting.
„She wasn’t expecting that,“ said Mallory. „Louisa thought she was going to be shot with a long red scarf – the way she opened every performance. I can see the look on her face when she saw you in that German uniform. It must have blown her mind away. So she was already stunned like some poor dumb animal in a slaughterhouse. What an easy target. And then you shot her – you of all people. That’s what she was thinking about while she was dying in that back room. You shot her and ran away. That’s all she knew in the last minute of her life – while that bastard was working on her, murdering her.“
Louisa’s wineglass moved again as Mallory drew the string through the anchor loop inside her purse. A quick tug, a flick of the wrist under the cover of the table, and the end of the string was hidden inside the handbag again.
Malakhai would not look at the glass anymore.
She leaned forward. „What did you do in the war?“
„In Paris? I ran a shell game on the street.“ He looked up at the waiter, who had suddenly appeared at the table to replenish his wineglass. „Milo, do you have any walnuts in the kitchen?“
„Yes, sir.“
„Bring me three empty shells.“ He turned back to Mallory. „I believe the only murder you really care about is Oliver’s.“
She nodded. Diversion was his predictable fallback to avoid any more pain. And now she would get what she came for. „Everyone keeps telling me the old man did the trick wrong.“
„Oliver’s platform isn’t an exact replica.“
„I know that. I’ve seen his improvements. Give me something I can work with.“ Distract me from Louisa, so I won’t hurt you anymore.
„Only the fourth arrow was fatal. If he hadn’t been so frightened, he could’ve avoided the first three. Fear can paralyze a man. Oliver stopped struggling when he realized his key was jammed. That wouldn’t have mattered to Max.“
„You’re saying Max used fake arrows?“
„No, he didn’t. Police officers always checked Max’s props. The arrows were identical. No fakes. All the crossbow magazines held three of them.“
„Then it was a blocking device in the arrow bed?“
„No. Remember, the dummy gets hit by all the crossbows. And whatever blocks the arrow bed would block the bow string too. But all the strings release with every shot. And the policemen cocked the crossbows. Oliver got that part right.“
The waiter reappeared with three walnut shells.
„Thank you, Milo.“ Malakhai lined up the shells on the empty dinner plate. „This is an easier trick. I used to do it with peas. May I borrow your gun?“