“May I come in?” Avery asked. “Unless of course, you’d like your neighbors to hear this. Though, I do suppose that would make you the talk of the building.”
Benjamin shook his head and stepped aside, gesturing a little too frantically. “No, no, come in, please.” He closed the door behind Avery and gripped his collarbone nervously. “What murder? Who was murdered? When? Why?”
Avery blinked at him in a way that would have made Riddle proud. “Were you acquainted with Alistair Campbell?”
“The doctor was murdered?!” Benjamin’s voice ran up nearly an entire octave.
Avery couldn’t tell if this was how this man genuinely expressed himself or if this was theatrics for show. “Please answer the question.”
Benjamin swallowed and smoothed the front of his shirt with his palms, then ran his fingers through his hair in a self-soothing gesture. “Yes, of course I knew him. Doctor Campbell not only had been in charge of Eira’s primary care even before we met, he was an old friend of the family.”
“Have you ever been to his home?”
“No?”
“You’re not sure?”
“No, I’ve never been, I’m just not sure why you’re asking me this.”
Avery walked a few paces inside to what appeared to be a balcony rail. She raised her eyebrows, looking down at the floor below, where a sitting room was nestled along with the kitchen and at least two other rooms. She surveyed either side of her and noted a bathroom and what she presumed was a bedroom. “Do you mind if I look around?”
“I guess—it’s not really the cleanest right now,” said Benjamin.
“I promise to not pass judgment so long as it’s just clutter and not something more nefarious,” clipped Avery, opening the closed door. Sure enough, a bedroom. The primary bedroom by the looks of it. Large, in a bit of disarray with the sheets and comforter askew and half on the floor along with a lot of articles of clothing.
“Nefarious?” Benjamin echoed, following her in. “What exactly do you mean by nefarious?”
Avery opened a few dresser drawers and scanned through them. “Can you account for your whereabouts on Sunday?” She peeked into the attached bathroom. That was pristine white.
“Is that when he died?” Benjamin’s eyes widened. “Am I a suspect?”
“Routine questioning,” Avery reminded him, walking past him to look into the half-bath across the entryway. There was something about this place that felt oddly devoid of something. Like an energy was missing. That was when she noticed that, unlike the lobby, there was absolutely no greenery to be found in the apartment. It felt cold, metallic. Perhaps that was what Carys meant by drafty. “However, the longer you avoid answering those routine questions, the more suspicious you look to me. I will ask again, where were you Sunday night?”
“After the funeral service, I skipped out. When everyone else went to dinner, I went to a club in Soho.”
Avery scrutinized him. “Can anyone corroborate that?”
“Sure, but hell if I know his name,” shrugged Benjamin. “I don’t know if he even told it to me.”
Avery nodded, noting that unlike before Benjamin was not braggingabout this fact. He looked shaken, out of sorts. She walked down the winding staircase to the floor below. “Numbing the pain, were you?” she called over her shoulder.
“We all deal with grief in our own way.” Benjamin sounded more defensive than before.
Averyhmmed and wandered into the kitchen. Upon locating the freezer and fridge she peered inside. Nothing. Barely any food. Takeout boxes mainly. She poked a few of them open, but finding nothing that even resembled organs, she closed everything back up. “Do you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“You keep a rather clean house.”
“Oh… Well, there is a maid on retainer, she comes in Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
Averyhmmed again.
“What are you looking for exactly?”
Avery ignored his question and asked another of her own. “What was the exact nature of your relationship with Eira Goff?”
“I told you—”
