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THE IMAGE WAS so absurd that I thought it was a joke—a punch line to the horror movie loop spinning in my head. My dead husband’s best friend, pointing a gun at me? I may have even given Bill a quizzical smile.
“If you want to kill me,” I said, “you won’t need that. Just wait a couple of hours.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Bill replied. “This isnothow it was supposed to happen.”
“Put the gun down, Bill. Let’s talk through whatever you think is going on.”
“You first, Samantha.”
“I’m not the one holding a firearm.”
“No. I know how you people work. You were in there looking for a weapon. You thought you were being clever, pretending to throw up. Kev told me how resourceful you are.”
“I promise you, I have no intention of hurting you. Even if I wanted to, I can barely stand. I just want some answers.”
“That’s another thing. You seem to be getting around fairly well for a woman on her deathbed.”
Yeah, I make it look real easy,I thought. If he only knew what I’d endured these past three days. But enough of Bill accusing me of wrongdoing. It was his turn. The way he’d reacted to me grilling Karla with a K meant that he was hiding more than his address. I’d gotten a glimpse into Bill Devander’s life. Dining out and breaking hearts all over Simon-Dach-Straße. The fancy townhouse, the expensive toiletries. None of it conclusive proof, but I was playing a hunch. A hunch built on a dozen details that were snapping into focus.
I took a stab at it. “Fine, we’ll try it your way. Tell me—how long have you been stealing from the company?”
I can always tell when an accusation hits home, because the subject will work really hard to appear casual, maybe even puzzled. Or they’ll seem relieved, because they’ve been waiting to get caught. With Bill, it was the latter.
“Kev told you.”
Of course he hadn’t. But hehadmade a point of coming to Berlin for our honeymoon. Yes, he’d said he wanted to show off a city he loved. But it was still something of an odd choice after our island-hopping romance. Kevin had needed an excuse to see Bill in person. Something that he couldn’t discuss over the phone, or via email. Something sensitive and serious. Corporate espionage, a violation of regulatory laws, perhaps.
Embezzlement.
“I was working out a deal to pay him back,” Bill said now. “To make things right again. Most important, I wanted to get my best friend back.”
“I’m sure that’s what he wanted, too. Which is why he met with you in person when we first arrived.”
“I haven’t seen Kev in months!”
“Wrong. You saw him right before he died.”
The look on Bill’s face told me I was correct. “How could you possibly know that?”
I realized that I’d known it all along. That was the missing detail that my brain couldn’t quite process, because it was the unthinkable.
“When I found his body,” I said, “he didn’t have wine or flowers with him. That’s because instead of going to a store, he actually went to meet you. Or rather, you came to meet him. I know that, because I could smell your cologne in the hallway. You were the last person to see him alive. Which means you killed him.”
CHAPTER 33
“NO. YOU’RE WRONG. I’m no killer!”
“Says the man pointing a loaded gun at a grieving widow.”
At least, I assumed the gun was loaded. Impossible to know for sure, but I did note that Bill had the safety disengaged. Which meant he was prepared to use the weapon, if he felt threatened.
“It was Kevin’s idea to meet with me here in Berlin,” Bill said. “I think he wanted all of this awful business sorted out and off his chest so you could enjoy your time together.”
“Yeah. Let me tell you, I really enjoyed the last thirty seconds of our marriage. Kevin dying in a hallway. Me leaping through a window. That was a nice wedding gift.”
“I didn’t kill him!”
“But youdid, Bill. Iknowyou did, as sure as I know I’m about to die in a matter of hours. Want to knowhowI know?” I needed to keep him curious for a few moments longer. I was still piecing it together—but I was very close now.
