Deborah nodded, gestured at Vincent with the cigarette. ‘I think I told you on the phone, I thought he was off with some woman. I thought he’d be gone a few days, and recapture his youth or whatever he was doing, and then he’d be back. Not that I’d necessarily take him in again.’ She looked away, frowning a little, as if making an assessment of compassion versus penance. ‘But the thing is, I don’t know what he’s done. And I see on the TV, they’re saying maybe the situation with your father … maybe the crime was … well. They’re saying there’s some kind of organised-crime involvement.’ She raised her eyebrows, shook her head, like the whole thing was completely beyond reckoning. ‘Now I’m in the position, I’ve lived with him four decades, and I don’t know where he is or what he’s done. And, well … I’m not even sure I’d want to know. Maybe I couldn’t even get my head around it. I’m struggling as it is.’

Rochelle returned with Erin’s iced tea. She set it down on the table and moved back a few paces, finger to chin, as if poised to adjudicate.

Erin said, ‘Had he been acting differently the past few weeks?’

Deborah was quiet, and Vincent thought maybe she hadn’t heard the question. She leaned forward and looked at the open newspaper, like there might be guidance in the text. She said, ‘It’s hard to look back and have an accurate picture. I mean, we’re looking back from the other side of a big event, aren’t we? It distorts what you see. It’s hard to know if you’re recalling the actual thing, or if it’s been changed by new context.’

Rochelle said, ‘One can imbue moments with false meaning.’

Vincent sipped his iced tea.

Erin said, ‘Why don’t you just give me your impression anyway? And we can adjust in hindsight if we need to.’

Deborah took in some smoke, a long breath like it was fuel. Speak, memory. She said, ‘We’d been growing apart, I suppose.’

‘Deborah, you don’t need to enter this terrain if the contours aren’t positive.’

Erin said, ‘I don’t want you to discuss anything if it’s going to cause trauma. But anything you can tell me would be very helpful. And much appreciated, obviously.’

Deborah said, ‘In a way it felt like that was happening for a long time. Moving apart, I mean. In fact, it was ten years.’ She gave a small nod. ‘I know it was ten years. We had a son, and we lost him. He was twenty-three.’

Erin said, ‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’