The Other Side of Silence

“Have you been here before, Walter? I can’t remember.”

“Once. With Antimo. To play bridge when the Voile had closed for the summer. We lost.”

“Poor Antimo,” she said. “That was awful what happened to him. The police were here, of course. Asking their questions. Did we know anyone who might have had a grudge against him? As if. They asked a lot of questions about you. Yes, they seemed quite interested in you. But Antimo was such a dear, sweet man. I shall miss him enormously.”

“Me, too.”

“Do they have any idea who did it, yet?”

“No,” I said. “Not a clue. But I do.”

“Really? You surprise me. Who?”

“You shouldn’t be surprised. It was you who shot him, Julia.”

“Me? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not ridiculous. You were having an affair with him and you’d threatened to put a hole in yourself when he gave you the cold cut. Spinola took your gun-or at least a gun-away from you to stop you from doing it. I still have that gun at home somewhere. I guess he never figured you might own more than one firearm. Or that you might just shoot him instead of yourself.” I sipped my drink. “This is a good martini, Julia. You’re quite a cocktail barman.”

“From the sound of things you’ve had quite enough to drink already, Walter. I don’t know. What you said-it’s rather offensive. I think you’ve outstayed your welcome. Perhaps you should go now.”

I said nothing.

“Or do I have to call the police?”

“Yes, let’s call them, if you like.”

Now it was Julia who stayed quiet.

“The police found a green chiffon scarf at the scene of the crime,” I said. “Poor Spinola was holding it in his hand when you shot him through the heart at close range. There’s a dress in your closet that’s the perfect match for that chiffon scarf. You wore it one night at La Voile d’Or. Maybe you remember that I picked it up when you dropped it on the ground and gave it back to you. I even caught the name on the label. It was Christian Dior. Same as the dress, I’ll bet money on it. Although not as much as you spent buying it. I’m sure the police will find it very interesting. It’s very hard to shoot someone at close range and not get blood on yourself.”

“I think you’re mistaken.” But her eyes were welling up with tears.

“No, I have a good memory. Believe it or not it’s part of my job to know what a lady is wearing. In case she needs to go shopping for something important. Like a new chiffon scarf. I wouldn’t advise it now. The cops will be paying attention to that kind of thing. In fact, I’d steer clear of most of the expensive ladies’ shops on the Riviera for a while, in case someone remembers you. Besides, green is really not your color, Julia. Take it from me. Blue would be much better on you.”

Julia Rose let out a sigh that sounded like a diver checking his breathing apparatus.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “What am I to do?”

“Do? There’s nothing to do. All you can do now is tell me what happened.”

I let her cry for several minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

“I can imagine. But you don’t need to apologize to me. Even if he was my bridge partner. And a damn good one, I might add.”

“I loved him. I loved him so much. He was the love of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever get over this as long as I live.”

“I believe you. But how long were you lovers?”

“Three years. I wanted to leave Jack and marry Antimo, who wouldn’t hear of it. He said he couldn’t afford to get married and that he preferred things the way they were. Easy to say if you don’t live with Jack. I told him I didn’t care about money, but he didn’t believe me.

“Then, out of the blue, he wanted to end things between us for good. I found myself unable to handle that. I was going to shoot myself in his apartment. That was the plan. I know it sounds stupidly, ridiculously melodramatic, Walter. You must think I’m mad. I suppose I was mad. Still am, if I’m honest. But love does that to people sometimes. I loved him so much I’d decided I couldn’t live without him. I wanted him to know that. I mean, really know that. It was late and I let myself into his apartment with the key he’d given me when we were lovers. He was in bed and got up when he realized I was there. We started to talk, I asked him to change his mind, and he refused. Then I took the gun out of my bag. I never meant to shoot him at all. Not for a minute. You must believe me, Walter. I tried to press the gun against my heart and pull the trigger but he wrestled it away and then it went off. Just once. And killed him. After that I just panicked and ran away.”

I nodded. “Do you still want to kill yourself?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure. Frankly, I try not to think about it.”

“No, please don’t ever do that. Listen, forget about what the priests and psychiatrists tell you. Take it from one who knows. Sometimes it’s only the thought of suicide that gets me through the night. It can be a real consolation.”

“I never know when you’re joking.”

“I have the same problem. Tell me, does Jack know anything about this?”

“No. If he suspects anything he hasn’t said as much.”