“That’s what everyone is talking about today, that Mallory and Dr. Eban were having an affair. Do you think it was true?”
I tried to quickly remove the look of confusion that pulled my eyebrows together. She was too distraught to notice my reaction, but I wanted to know more, wanted to know if wires had gotten crossed, and just who was supposed to be having an affair with whom. However, I didn’t want to contribute to something getting further out of hand. Any clarification I tried to seek would only make things worse. “It’s never good to listen to rumors.” I felt like I should be pointing my finger with the advice. I cleared my throat.
“Of course not,” Lola said. Her eyes filled with tears again and she put a tissue to her nose. Without saying anything else, she turned and went back into her flat, closing the door with a half slam behind her. I thought about knocking to see if she needed someone to sit with her, but I didn’t. I thought about the gray-haired man she’d watched leave the pub, and I lifted my hand to knock on her door, but questioning her about the man would have been too random and bizarre, and completely unsympathetic to her grief. I lowered my hand.
As I moved down the hallway toward the stairs that led to Sophie and Rena’s flat, I passed a makeshift memorial. Flowers and cards were piling up outside the door where Mallory must have lived. I became choked up again myself when I saw the tribute, but I’d pushed away the emotions by the time I knocked on my friends’ door. If they needed me at all, they’d need me to be strong.
Sophie opened the door with her own set of red and puffy eyes and nose. “I thought you’d be the police.” She blinked. “I’m sorry, Delaney. Come in, come in.”
The living room of their shared flat was small and always messy; books, papers, and clothes; jackets and sweaters were everywhere. Most of the time their two laptops were also open and in view, but today they were closed, sitting side by side on the coffee table amid a sea of empty and stained coffee cups. Sophie and Rena sat together on the worn love seat, and I grabbed a stool from under their kitchen counter.
“I just can’t believe it,” Sophie said. “How could this have happened?”
Rena handed her a tissue. She was sad too, but she handled her grief in a more withdrawn, quiet way that didn’t include tears.
“I’m so very sorry,” I said. I swallowed hard to keep from joining in with Sophie’s contagious tears.
“She brought me home, Delaney!” Sophie said. “I remember that part. She made sure I had some aspirin and a glass of water before she left. I remember.”
I nodded.
“She was so sweet!” Sophie continued.
Rena looked up at me. “She was killed outside the bookshop where you work.”
It was both a question and a statement.
“Yes, in the close next to the shop.”
“We were talking about the bookshop with Dr. Eban. He said something about scalpels. Do you think he killed her?” Rena said.
“I don’t have any idea, but I told the police all about that conversation. You’re still waiting for the police to talk to you?”
“They said they’d be here soon,” Sophie said.
“Just tell them what happened,” I said, though I wondered why Inspector Pierce hadn’t arrived yet or had Sophie and Rena go down to the station to give statements. He’d probably gone to talk to Dr. Eban first.
Rena’s dry eyes seemed to move too quickly today. They usually sparkled with smooth wit and intelligence, but today they were jerky. “Sophie thinks she might have been the last person tae see Mallory alive, other than the killer.”
“Yes! And I was all about me last night. My feelings, my stupid marks!” Sophie said. “I didn’t once ask how she was doing, or how she felt she did on the exam. I didn’t ask her anything about her.”
“It’s normal to feel the guilt you’re feeling,” I said. I was going to add that since she didn’t kill Mallory she had nothing to worry about. But I didn’t know who killed Mallory. As sweet and kind as Sophie had been to me, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure about anything.
Sophie and Rena were sweet and smart women, though perhaps somewhat edgy, with a street savvy I didn’t possess. Still, the last person I’d seen Mallory with last night had been Sophie, and their cabdriver. It had also occurred to me that I didn’t actually know where Rena went after I got into my cab. I wasn’t suspicious of them, but it would only be normal to wonder.
“Delaney’s correct, Sophie. We’ll just tell the police what we know. And you had nothing tae do with Mallory’s murder. You couldn’t hurt anyone. It’s not in you,” Rena said.
“No, but I could have at least been a little less selfish,” Sophie said.
“Do you remember what Mallory said to you on the ride home last night, maybe before she left your flat?” I said.
“I’ve been trying!”
“Try again,” Rena said.
Rena and I were silent as we waited for Sophie to think. She put her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes tightly, and I remembered that she probably had a terrible headache stunting her thoughts and making her memory sluggish.
She opened her eyes. “I can’t remember anything clearly. I wish I could. That’s how blootered I was.”
Even with my very own pub owner, that’s one I hadn’t heard before. I held back a smile.
Sophie had had too much to drink last night, but she’d also had coffee and a break before Mallory took her home. It was a stretch for me to think she couldn’t remember some things, but she didn’t seem to be lying.
But maybe she was.
“Rena, did you get home after or before Mallory left your flat last night?” I asked.
“A few minutes
