Page 118 of Two Marlboros

“Well, great,” he said in fact with a sly smile. “So, what are you still doing here?”

As I walked out of that room, I released with a sigh all the anxiety I had been carrying for those minutes and felt free again, as light as ever.

Ash and I exchanged a look of understanding and walked toward our office before proceeding with the assignment. In the hallway we passed a colleague, still in her fancy outfit and those heels that echoed with every step. Tick-tock, tick-tock. I waited a few seconds and turned to check that she was far enough away, then elbowed Ash.

“Hey, you know that’s Church’s wife?”

“Wait,” he replied with a frown, “since when have you been interested in gossip?”

“It’s not gossip, it’s fact.”

Ash paused and I did likewise, then he crossed his arms and peered at me. “Something has happened to you.”

“Like what?”

“How do I know? But you’ve been a lot more bearable for the past month or so; before that, it looked like someone had died.”

I looked at Ash. I said nothing and hoped that was enough. I kept my hand on the handle of the office door, unable to open it. Ash kept staring at me; when enough time had passed for him to understand, I opened the door and went inside. He followed close behind me and closed the door behind him. He approached as I once again sorted through the packet Church had delivered to us.

“I’m not sure I got it right.”

A couple of taps on the envelope and the papers were lined up perfectly.

“You got it right.”

“Shit...” he let out. He opened his mouth wide for a few seconds, then rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Sorry. Sorry!”

Silence fell between us. The stack of papers needed no further attention. He crossed his arms, uncertain whether to look at me or not.

“Has it been long?” he asked.

“About nine months ago.”

He moved his head in surprise. Not much time had passed, indeed.

“Was it an important person?”

The wind rattled a window sash, which opened fully. The sweat on his neck was kissed by a breath of breeze.

“Yes. Very.”

My gaze gave him a glimpse of the relationship between Oliver and me.

“Shit, I’m sorry. For everything, really.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry, you couldn’t have known.”

Ash continued to stare at me for a few seconds until his gaze got lost in the void.

In the car, in the time that separated us from the place where William had been tracked down, I reread the investigation file. Inside were all the details that followed the robbery, which also included the people interviewed and the testimony given. I smiled as I read Nathan’s and thought back to the time when he had shown up at the police station: I had a feeling that several things had changed since then.

I flipped through the file again and stumbled upon the description I had given of the hooded boy with the tattoo on his hand surrounding a birthmark, who, as I had suspected, was thesame boy in the photo in the Rumors tabloid magazine, where the figure of William was also quite clearly discernible.

Considering the phone records, it was quite likely that there was a connection between him and Michael; but how could we get him to talk?

“We try not to let on that we keep his phone under observation,” Ash commented, as if he had read my mind.

“I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

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