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the slightest clue as to why she had called or who put her in touch with me. When I began asking questions about Gerald, neither seemed to want to talk to me anymore. I insisted, though: ‘Why would someone want to murder Gerald Andrews and target his wife?’
    â€˜Mr. James,’ said Bouvert, ‘Gerald’s murder and Elaine’s disappearance come as a great shock to us, too.’ He walked around behind his desk and sat in his large chair in front of the large window. ‘The truth is neither Al nor I have any idea whatsoever why someone would target the Andrewses.’
    When I opened the door to the hatchback I asked Darren if he smoked and he said yes but we couldn’t smoke in the car because of the flowers and because it belonged to the florist, so we sat on the curb and smoked cigarettes under a streetlight. I’d quit, years ago, though nevertheless I was smoking, not caring about the consequences, and my old cough reappeared immediately, a curt bark. I inhaled deeply, holding the smoke, then slowly exhaled the warm pinching smoke through my nostrils. My eyes were closed and I listened to the soft sounds of occasional traffic. Darren didn’t talk. He was a nice kid. Respectful of others. I stood up and crushed the cigarette underfoot, thinking, I don’t need anymore goddamn cigarettes in my life. A city bus approached and I said to Darren that I could take the bus home and he said that he was going my way anyway, and we got in the car. We drove off and I turned to Darren and said, ‘Thanks for waiting, bud.’
    My apartment was dark and I didn’t turn on any lights, just placed my keys and wallet on the mantel and went to the kitchenette and poured myself a drink and drank it back and poured another one, emptying the bottle, and dropped face down on my couch and kicked off my shoes and that was that.

12
    A buzz startled me out of sleep and I woke on my couch, thirsty, listening to the rain on the fire escape. I remained still, then let my eyelids close under their immense weight. Again, however, there was a loud buzz. It was my doorbell. I sat up on the couch and grabbed the glass sitting on the floor beside it and held the glass up to the meagre light from the street; it was empty and opaque with fingerprints. Again, there was that loud grating buzz and I said, ‘Hold your horses.’ I stood up and did up my pants and belt and walked toward the door, unlocked it and opened it. Much to my chagrin, O’Meara stood there, with one of his plainclothes minions.
    â€˜Mind if we come in, Rick,’ he said, as they pushed past me into my apartment.
    â€˜Make yourselves at home,’ I said, lighting a cigarette.
    O’Meara pushed me up against the wall, slapped the cigarette out of my mouth, and said, ‘Don’t get smart, smartass!’ I shoved O’Meara, and the plainclothesman punched me in the stomach. I dropped to my knees. I fought back vomit while trying to catch my breath.
    â€˜Now here’s how it’s going to be, tough guy,’ said O’Meara, ‘we’re going to ask the questions and you’re going to provide the answers. Understand?’ I nodded. ‘Did you rape Elaine Andrews?’
    â€˜Are you fucking crazy?’ I said, and the plainclothesman kicked me in the left kidney, from behind, and I gasped in pain, clutching my side, gritting my teeth and waiting for the pain to dissipate.
    â€˜Did you rape her, Rick?’ he repeated.
    â€˜You know I wouldn’t hurt her.’
    â€˜Rick, we found your friend in a parking lot dumpster, the parking lot of a florist near you, Chez Marine, with her hands tied behind her back, gagged, and there are clear signs of forced penetration. Cause of death was a severe blow to the cranium. You wouldn’t know anything about that – would you, Rick?’
    â€˜O’Meara, I didn’t fucking kill her!’
    The plainclothesman was holding up one of my