‘What have you done?’ said Felix, as the door to their flat clicked shut.
‘I’ve done what was right.’
‘What happens now?’
‘What happens,’ said Nancy, making herself speak clearly and meet his eyes, ‘is that the police look into Kira’s death. It’s in their hands now.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘What did you mean?’
‘What do you expect me to do?’ Felix looked at her calmly.
‘You can go back to work, for a start,’ she said. ‘You’ve taken enough time off as it is.’
‘Not today. Not for a while. I think I’ve been too trusting. I’m staying here.’
Nancy stood up.
‘You can stay here if you want. I’m going for a walk.’
‘It’s cold out there.’
‘I need fresh air. I hate being cooped up.’
‘I’ll come along.’
‘I’d like to be alone.’
‘I’ve seen what happens when you’re alone. Creeping out, going to the police, deceiving me.’
‘This isn’t about you, Felix.’
‘No. It’s about you. About your…’ He searched for the right word, found it, spoke it in almost a whisper. ‘Your imagination. And about how safe you are to be left alone.’
‘All right. I won’t go out.’
‘We’ll go together. Once you’ve unpacked your bag.’
After their visit to Olga, Maud had been intending to knock on the door of Seamus and Barney’s flat. But back on the street, at the top of the steps that led down to it, when she saw a barrel-chested middle-aged man with a broad forehead, jutting chin and collar-length hair unlocking the door of the neighbouring house, she changed her mind.
‘Mr Strauss?’ she called.
‘Yes?’
‘Could I have a quick word with you? I’m Maud O’Connor and this is my colleague, Mark Forrester. We’re investigating the death of Kira Mullan.’
Dylan froze, his hand on the key. His face darkened.
‘She killed herself. That’s all done.’
‘We’re taking another look,’ said Maud.
‘For God’s sake, is this what you lot do? I had a phone stolen a few weeks ago. What did the police do? I’ll tell you, nothing. A friend of mine got his bike taken and even though it was tagged, the police couldn’t be bothered to look into it. But you’re poking around in a case that’s been settled.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Maud. ‘Can you tell me why this is obviously such a problem for you?’
His expression changed from angry to confused. He passed a hand across his brow.
‘Sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I didn’t mean to fly off the handle. You have a difficult job. I guess everyone has just been rattled by what happened. Of course, you can ask me anything you want. Come in.’
They followed him into a large, light-filled living room, paintings on the walls, books on the shelves, everything in its right place. Maud tried to picture the other house, and figured this must be the equivalent of Kira’s entire flat, though she hadn’t seen that yet.
‘Coffee? Tea?’
‘No, thank you,’ said Maud.
‘I’m fine,’ said Forrester, taking out his notebook and bouncing it up and down on his knee.
‘How can I help?’
‘We’re just putting together a picture of the Sunday that Kira was last seen alive.’
‘She was only seen by Nancy North. Maybe it was just her imagination.’
‘When did you last see her?’
‘Me? I have no idea. I saw her quite a bit, of course, though not to talk to. I don’t work,’ he said. ‘I was made redundant last year, and I’m at home a lot. My wife works part time.’
Maud nodded. She wondered how a man like Dylan Strauss would deal with being unemployed while his wife was still earning.
‘I’d see Kira come and go. I used to meet her in the street. Every so often I’d help carry her shopping.’
‘You didn’t go into her room?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Not that I remember.’
‘You don’t remember whether you ever went into her flat?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘You didn’t see her on Sunday the thirteenth of November?’
‘I’ve told you. No. Not that I remember at least. Michelle and I were out most of that day. We left mid-morning to go to lunch and then an exhibition in town. We got home about half past four and then an hour and a half later went to drinks at Felix’s place. I think Felix had invited Kira, but she never turned up.’
‘You were out most of the day, with your wife, and you didn’t see Kira?’
‘That’s it. I’m not much help, I’m afraid.’
‘But you were on friendly terms with her?’
‘I didn’t know her well, but I always thought she was well-meaning. I sometimes used to worry about her.’
‘Why?’
‘She was always going out in the evenings, dressed up to the nines. She looked like she knew how to look after herself but I’m not sure she did.’ He paused, let his eyes rest on Maud’s face. ‘You don’t think she killed herself? Is that what this is about?’
‘Tying up loose ends,’ said Forrester.
‘You look clever enough,’ said Dylan. ‘You don’t want to be pulled into that woman’s weird world.’
‘Are we still talking about Kira Mullan?’
‘I’m talking about Nancy. Don’t get me wrong, I feel sorry for her. But she’s not well. She thinks we’re her enemies. We just did what we had to. I saw what she was like when they took her away. She was like a wild animal. And this whole fantasy about that girl being murdered and making wild accusations. It’s just ridiculous.’
‘And the cut on your nose?’
‘What?’
‘Did you have a cut on your nose that Sunday?’
‘It’s her, isn’t it? You’re listening to bloody Nancy North, again.’ He stopped and realised that the detectives were waiting for an answer. ‘If I had a cut, which I don’t remember, it would have been from gardening or shaving or something like that.’
‘Shaving your nose,’ said Maud.
‘Gardening, then. Anyway, I don’t remember a cut.’
Coming out of the Strausses’ house, Maud saw a couple in the distance. She stopped for a moment, narrowing her eyes, and recognised Nancy and Felix. He was looking at her. She was paying him no attention.