Death in the Rainy Season Page 25

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ll tell you once it’s done.’

  ‘Where have you been? Why didn’t you call to tell me you would be late? And why is your phone off?’

  Thierry walked past his wife without answering. She followed him into the study and watched him unplug his computer, put it in his briefcase.

  ‘What are you doing now?’

  He walked out and she followed him back into the hallway. Only then did she realize he hadn’t come home alone. The Cambodian police officer who had come to talk to them the day before was standing there. He smiled at her, and for a moment she was confused enough to think that this was a social call. She immediately realized how absurd that was.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ she asked her husband, forgetting her manners now. ‘And another thing: they said you weren’t at work today. I called. What’s going on?’

  ‘I didn’t feel up to it.’

  ‘Why didn’t you let me know? You haven’t told me why your phone was off.’

  It seemed amazing to Thierry that Marlene should manage to carry on like this and ignore the presence of the Cambodian detective. Her aptitude for denial. It came to him all at once, just how carefully she had shifted her attention elsewhere all these years.

  Only when he tried to take her hand did she finally snap. She took a quick step back, as if a snake had tried to bite her.

  ‘You bastard,’ she said.

  Before the police car drove off, Thierry looked back at the house one last time. Marlene had shut the door. He sat in the back seat with the handcuffs on, dry-eyed and alert, waiting for the next bomb to go off.

  Sarit came out of the police chief’s office. He’d come back with Gaveaux in handcuffs only to be called in straight away. The past hour had been spent answering a flurry of uncomfortable questions about his recent interest in land evictions.

  Strangely, he wasn’t too worried about that. What bothered him more was the fact that Morel had gone off to do something he wouldn’t tell Sarit about. Sarit had a feeling that the Frenchman was on his way to confront Quercy’s murderer.

  He sat at his desk and dialled the number of Morel’s hotel. A brief conversation with the receptionist told him that Morel had gone off in a tuk-tuk. Yes, this was one of the tuk-tuks regularly stationed outside the hotel. Was the driver back? Sarit asked. He waited patiently while the receptionist checked. Two minutes later he picked the phone back up to say the driver hadn’t returned yet. Sarit gave him his mobile number and asked the receptionist to call as soon as the driver was back. ‘I need to know where he dropped the French policeman off,’ he said.

  FORTY-TWO

  ‘I’m sorry to turn up on your doorstep unannounced again,’ Morel said.

  ‘It’s all right. I wasn’t in bed or anything. I’m still dressed, see? Better than last time.’ Despite the dark circles around her eyes she sounded cheerful, and Morel thought that perhaps she was glad to see him. ‘Would you like to come in?’

  Morel looked beyond Florence Quercy to the boxes piled up in the hallway.

  ‘I won’t. I really just came to ask one thing.’

  ‘OK. What is it?’

  ‘I want to ask something about Nora,’ Morel said. He wasn’t sure how to put it delicately.

  Florence folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorway. She was wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. No jewellery, except for her wedding ring.

  ‘You know, I always thought that someday Paul would turn up here and ask me what you’re about to ask. Or that he would bring it up over dinner at our house. I imagined a confrontation with Hugo. Sometimes I looked at her and felt it must be obvious. But it never happened. Paul never found out.’

  ‘That Nora isn’t his daughter.’

  Florence Quercy nodded. She gave him a tired smile.

  ‘She’s Hugo’s. Mariko and Hugo’s.’

  Of course.

  ‘How long have you known?’ Morel asked.

  ‘Since the beginning. Hugo told me there would be no secrets between us.’

  ‘It didn’t bother you?’

  Florence shook her head. ‘Everyone has a past. When you love someone as much as I loved him, you take that person with everything that went before you, the sum of their experiences. And that includes ex-lovers, past mistakes, as well as the happiness they shared with other women. You have to.’

  ‘Children too.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Though Hugo had decided from the start that he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father. That it would be best for everyone if Paul brought Nora up.’

  It was strange, hearing Florence speak so matter of factly of her husband’s decision.

  ‘Did anyone ask Paul what he thought about all this?’

  Florence’s face clouded over. ‘Mariko always felt he wouldn’t be able to deal with the truth. And the longer she waited, the more impossible it became to tell him. I think it’s best this way.’

  They were silent for a moment.

  ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t keep you standing here like this,’ Morel said. ‘Perhaps I should come in so you can sit down.’

  ‘It’s fine, I’m perfectly OK.’

  Morel pressed on, sensing that she would soon tell him she was tired. She didn’t seem quite so eager for company now.

  ‘Hugo didn’t want the responsibility back then, when he first found out Mariko was pregnant,’ he said. ‘He didn’t want it when the baby came along either. But he did decide at some point that he wanted to be more closely involved with Nora, didn’t he?’

  ‘He was fond of her.’

  ‘He helped with her studies, took her under his wing.’

  ‘You sound like you disapprove,’ Florence said with a sigh. ‘He cared about her. Surely that’s understandable. No one was getting hurt. Hugo and Paul were such close friends and it was natural enough for Hugo to be interested in Nora’s welfare. Paul never knew.’

  Florence stared at Morel as if willing him to agree with her. Morel held her gaze.

  ‘What if he did?’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Florence’s eyes widened.

  ‘What would have happened, do you think, if Paul had found out?’

  Morel walked for a while, hoping that somehow he would find the main road. But it was dark and he soon lost his way. Somewhere he could hear music playing. A dog barked and there was the sound of a TV. Two male voices talking in Khmer, in high-pitched, exaggerated tones.

  The rain had eased now and the croaking of bullfrogs in the undergrowth was disjointed, as though they too had run out of steam.

  As he took a step forward, his foot landed in a muddy puddle.

  ‘Shit.’

  He needed to retrace his steps. He stopped and looked at the deserted street before him. If only there was someone he could ask. He considered knocking on Florence Quercy’s door again but he guessed he wouldn’t be very welcome there after their little chat. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to find her house now. He turned and started walking back, cursing his own stupidity.

  He didn’t see the blow coming. It landed against the side of his head and sent him sprawling to the ground. Foolishly, he tried to stand but then there was a second blow. This one stilled him. He didn’t hear the echoing sound of receding footsteps, was only vaguely aware of a warm wet feeling against his cheek while blood oozed from his left ear.

  The last thought in his mind was of Mathilde, lying against him in the grass, her fingers drawing circles on his chest. What was she doing here, in this particular place? Why was it suddenly cold? It was impossible to say. He took that image with him as he fell into darkness.

  FORTY-THREE

  The minute she heard the key go in, Mariko rushed to the door to meet her husband.

  ‘Nora’s home,’ she said.

  ‘Thank God.’ They fell against each other, and when they pulled apart Mariko saw that Paul had been crying.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ she asked. ‘There’
s a fish curry, and rice. Do you want me to warm some up for you?’

  ‘That would be nice,’ he said, wiping his eyes.

  He ate in silence. Sitting across from him at the dining table, Mariko searched for something to say but nothing came to her. Paul seemed to have run out of words as well.

  Once he had finished his food, he looked up.

  ‘What did Nora say?’

  ‘Nothing. She walked through the door about an hour ago. I was so relieved. She had something to eat, then she went to her room. She said she really wanted to be alone and could we talk in the morning. She seemed so exhausted, I didn’t want to push her. She said how sorry she was.’

  ‘Where was she all this time?’

  ‘She said she was at Jeremy’s. Then she went to Florence’s. It was Florence who told her she needed to go home.’

  ‘Really?’

  Mariko looked carefully at her husband’s face. He seemed almost uninterested, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.

  ‘Did you have any idea where she was?’

  Paul looked surprised. ‘Why would I? Did you?’

  Mariko shook her head. ‘It’s just that you said you had heard from her. And when I checked your messages—’

  ‘You did what?’ Paul asked slowly.

  ‘I don’t know why I did it.’ Mariko faltered. ‘I was worried.’ She pulled herself together. He had lied to her, after all. ‘The point is that you said you had heard from Nora and yet there weren’t any texts on your phone. None from her to you or from you to her.’

  ‘I must have deleted them.’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a hundred years. The look he gave Mariko now, though, was accusing. ‘I don’t understand. What is it that you’re implying? Whatever is on your mind, just come out and say it.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Mariko chose her words carefully. ‘I feel as though we’ve become strangers to each other these past days. I feel uncomfortable around you. I feel as though you’re keeping things from me. Things I should know.’ Seeing Paul’s expression, she reached for him. ‘I think you need to see someone.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re not fine.’

  ‘Hugo’s dead. And you think I need medication because I’m mourning my friend.’

  ‘Do you remember when Commandant Morel came to our house?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘You told him that you decided not to have a drink with Hugo that night because I was expecting you home.’

  ‘Did I? I don’t remember. I wasn’t thinking straight.’

  She didn’t say anything to that.

  ‘You say I’m keeping things from you. But what about you?’ he said.

  ‘What about me?’

  He hesitated. ‘Surely you have your secrets too.’

  He tried a smile and she looked away, wondering where this was going. She heard his chair scrape back as he got up. Then he was standing before her and she stood too. She let him wrap his arms around her, an awkward embrace that held nothing familiar, as if they had never done this before.

  ‘I love you, and I love Nora, more than anything in this world,’ Paul said. ‘Please forgive me if I haven’t been easy to live with recently.’

  It was the most he’d said to her in days. Gently, Mariko stepped back from his embrace and stroked her husband’s cheek.

  ‘You miss Hugo, but I’ve been missing you,’ she said. He didn’t answer. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

  ‘Welcome back.’

  Morel opened his eyes to find Sok Pran’s wrinkled face before him.

  ‘After seeing you earlier today I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,’ the old man said.

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Not at the morgue, I’m pleased to say.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were attacked,’ Pran said.

  Morel remembered it now. The blow to his head.

  ‘Who found me?’

  ‘I did.’ Morel turned to see Sarit standing near the door. Seeing the Cambodian policeman reminded him of every frustration he’d encountered these past days. But there was no denying the man had saved him from a sticky situation.

  ‘Thank you,’ Morel said. He tried to sit up but the room started spinning and he fell back against the pillow. The side of his face felt numb.

  ‘He got you here, across the cheekbone.’ Pran touched his face but Morel felt nothing. ‘We had to stitch you up. The blow also ruptured your left eardrum. This is why you are feeling dizzy, I suspect. It can cause a degree of imbalance. We need to take another look at that before you go.’

  ‘What time is it?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s nine o’clock in the evening.’

  ‘What happened to my attacker?’ Morel said. He turned to Sarit. ‘Did you get him?’

  ‘Yes. When you’re ready, we can question him together.’

  Morel sat up again. He ignored the dizziness and placed his feet on the ground.

  ‘I’m ready now,’ he said. ‘I want to hear what this man has to say. But first we need to see Paul Arda.’

  FORTY-FOUR

  Sarit rang the bell, while Morel leaned against the gate. The anaesthetic seemed to have worn off now and his face hurt. He had a pounding headache. It felt as though someone was trying to drill a hole through his damaged eardrum.

  The place looked deserted. But the second time Sarit pressed the button, a wheezy barking erupted from inside the house. Morel heard the door open. Mariko Arda appeared, rubbing her eyes. She looked as though she’d just woken up but she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.

  ‘Sorry, have you been waiting there long? I was asleep. Please come in.’ She didn’t seem to find it strange that they would turn up at night without calling in advance.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you so late,’ Morel said.

  ‘It’s OK. I wasn’t in bed. I’m afraid I’ve had a bit too much to drink. I must have dozed off.’

  Morel noticed that she seemed tense. She was still drunk, but she was being careful, he could hear it in her voice.

  ‘Nora’s home, by the way,’ she added. ‘Thank goodness.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it.’

  ‘Yes. I guess we should be celebrating. Would you gentlemen like a drink?’ she asked.

  Sarit and Morel followed her inside.

  ‘Where’s Paul?’ Morel asked.

  She looked confused. ‘I don’t know. The car’s gone. He was here with me earlier. He must have left after I fell asleep.’

  ‘Where did he go?’ Sarit said.

  Just then Mariko noticed the dressing on Morel’s face. ‘What happened?’ She looked at him and he saw genuine concern. ‘You look like you need to sit down. Please, take a seat,’ she said.

  Morel accepted her offer gratefully. Mariko turned back to Sarit.

  ‘You asked where Paul was. The hotel maybe? I don’t know.’

  ‘Mariko,’ Morel said.

  She turned and gave him a fearful look.

  ‘I need to ask you something. On Sunday night – the night of Hugo’s death – you were at the Paradise Hotel,’ he said.

  Mariko remained silent.

  ‘Why?’

  She swallowed. ‘I was meeting someone.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Morel said. Mariko looked at him, surprised. ‘We don’t have time for this,’ he said. ‘Stop messing around. It was Hugo you were meeting, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She gave him an angry look. ‘But it wasn’t what you think.’

  ‘What were you doing there?’ Sarit asked.

  Mariko glanced at the Cambodian, before turning to Morel.

  ‘Could you and I talk alone? It would make it easier for me. Sorry, I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just . . .’ she said, looking at Sarit. The policeman raised a hand to show he didn’t mind.

  ‘No problem. I will wait outside, in the car,’ he said.

  ‘Shall I p
our us a couple of drinks?’ Mariko said. ‘You look like you could use one.’

  Morel followed her into the kitchen and sat down on a stool there. He watched her take an open bottle of wine from the fridge. He stood up and took it from her.

  ‘Sit down. Please,’ he said. ‘I’ll make us some coffee instead.’

  ‘I’ll make it,’ she said. ‘You’re in no shape to get up.’

  He didn’t argue with her. Instead, he sat down again and watched her take two mugs from the kitchen cupboard.

  ‘Did Paul tell you that the three of us were at university together? He, Hugo and I?’ she said, filling the kettle.

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ Morel said, though he’d figured it out.

  ‘We all met each other around the same time. I’d seen Paul around, then one day the two of them turned up at a cafe around the corner from the university. They sat nearby and I remember thinking how obnoxious Hugo was. He was so loud. Paul was the opposite. Quiet. Hugo and I started dating. It seems strange now. I’m not normally drawn to men like him. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He just kept trying till he won me over. He was relentless. Full of himself, but charming. It was easy to like him. I didn’t want a serious relationship and he was fun to be with.’

  She emptied three scoops of coffee into a plunger and filled it with boiling water.

  ‘Did you see much of Paul around that time?’ Morel asked.

  ‘Yes. The three of us were together a lot. It seemed perfectly natural. Neither Hugo nor I felt the need for intimacy. We were a nice fit, the three of us. It was comfortable.’ Mariko poured the coffee and handed a cup to Morel. ‘I can’t remember how you have it. Milk? Sugar?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  She sat across from him and took her cup in both hands.

  ‘After about six months, Hugo and I agreed to go our separate ways. It was perfectly friendly. It didn’t take long for Hugo to start dating someone else. I remained single for a while. I wanted to focus on my studies. But I did start seeing more of Paul. We became friends. We’d go to an occasional movie or a drink. It was nice.’

  ‘Then one day you became more than friends.’

  ‘Yes. A few years later. It took a while. Paul didn’t open up easily. At first I thought it was shyness, but it’s just the way he is. He’s very smart, and highly sensitive. But he’s also an introvert. He has none of Hugo’s social skills.’