The policeman looked like a nice young soccer dad, but there was something cool and knowing about his tired green eyes. He was sitting next to Jane’s hospital bed with a pen poised over his yellow notepad.
“Let me get this straight: You were standing on the balcony but you were looking back inside?”
“Yes,” said Jane. “Because of all the noise. People were throwing things.”
“And then you heard Celeste White scream?”
“I think so,” said Jane. “It’s all so confusing. Everything is muddled. Those champagne cocktails.”
“Yes,” sighed the policeman. “Those champagne cocktails. I’ve heard a lot about them.”
“Everyone was very drunk,” said Jane.
“Where were you standing in relation to Perry White?”
“Um, I think sort of off to one side.” The last nurse had said that someone would be taking her for an X-ray soon. Her parents were on their way with Ziggy. She looked at the door of her room and wished for someone, anyone, to come and save her from this conversation.
“And what was your relationship with Perry? Were you friends?”
Jane thought of the moment when he took off his wig and became Saxon Banks. She never got to tell him that he had a son called Ziggy who liked pumpkin. She never got an apology. Was that what she’d come to Pirriwee for? Because she wanted his remorse? She actually thought she’d get his remorse?
She closed her eyes. “We only met for the first time last night. I’d only just been introduced to him.”
“I think you’re lying,” said the policeman. He put down his notepad. Jane flinched at his sudden change of tone. His voice had the implacability, the weight and violence of a swinging hammer. “Are you lying?”