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were to have just coffee.’ She held up a take-away coffee cup.
    â€˜I’m going to have to eat, or there’s a serious possibility I might pass out.’
    Valerie didn’t laugh at the joke. ‘OK.’
    They set off in silence at a brisk pace away from the gardens, through a covered walkway carved with arches and lined with shops selling postcards and painfully expensive coffee. As they walked, Eva looked for signs of Leon but as far as she could tell he was nowhere to be seen. But then that was probably exactly as he wanted it. They had made no arrangements before he dropped her at the hotel the night before, and as Eva had been keen to get back to an environment in which he wasn’t in control, she hadn’t pushed the issue. However, she did wonder what the next steps should be after what had happened that night – and deep down she knew the encounter had unnerved her more than she was willing to admit. The fact that she seemed suddenly to have become his target made her feel unsure of her own ability to protect herself, something she had never considered before. He had seemed unstable, paranoid, and volatile, a combination she would usually swiftly distance herself from – but his conspiracy theories had somewhat chimed with her own. She would just have to wait to see what it was he really wanted from her and hope her nerves could stand it.
    Valerie led the way to a modern-looking local establishment with large windows and red velvet curtains. It was warm inside and there was a smell of toasted cheese. The waiter greeted them and put the menus down. Valerie immediately pushed hers away.
    â€˜Why did you want so desperately to see me?’
    Eva looked up from the menu, surprised at all pleasantries being so swiftly dispensed with.
    â€˜There are a few things I wanted to ask you.’
    â€˜Well…,’ began Valerie but stopped as the waiter had arrived to take their order. After he left, an awkward silence persisted until the drinks were set down on the dark wood table. Valerie took a short sip of a thick black coffee and squared her narrow shoulders. ‘What are your questions?’
    â€˜I think Jackson was murdered.’
    â€˜What?’ Valerie’s hand flew to her rosebud mouth; her long-lashed eyes widened around each startling green iris.
    â€˜No.’ Her voice was surprisingly firm. ‘He killed himself. Because of drugs, Eva. Why would you say that?’
    Eva was a little surprised by the ferocity of Valerie’s reaction. She decided to tread carefully. ‘Because I don’t believe that’s how he died. You identified the body?’
    â€˜Yes. But he was disfigured, Eva. Beyond recognition. In the end they had to use dental records. He shot himself in the head.’
    Across from their table, Eva felt the gazes of a young couple and a dark skinned man in a black suede coat fall on them. ‘Doesn’t it seem strange to you that he did what he did?,’ she continued in a lower tone, moving away from the emotive topic. ‘I thought he was finally happy.’
    Valerie stared at her in silence, her gaze steady, and then looked away as the waiter arrived and set the plate of food down in the middle of the table. Eva started to eat, reluctant to allow Valerie time to think but keen to satisfy her hunger.
    â€˜I didn’t know him.’ Valerie’s voice was so quiet Eva almost didn’t hear her. She looked directly into those big green eyes, tearing up slightly at the corners, and then took another bite of the cheese sandwich. ‘I did not want what happened to him,’ she continued, ‘but your brother was not all he seemed.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    Valerie visibly swallowed hard and fiddled with an ashtray in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. ‘He was… he was… unpredictable.’
    â€˜How?’
    â€˜He changed. In the last month. He became… ugly.’
    â€˜What does that