“Then, out of the blue, he wanted to end things between us for good. I found myself unable to handle that. I was going to shoot myself in his apartment. That was the plan. I know it sounds stupidly, ridiculously melodramatic, Walter. You must think I’m mad. I suppose I was mad. Still am, if I’m honest. But love does that to people sometimes. I loved him so much I’d decided I couldn’t live without him. I wanted him to know that. I mean, really know that. It was late and I let myself into his apartment with the key he’d given me when we were lovers. He was in bed and got up when he realized I was there. We started to talk, I asked him to change his mind, and he refused. Then I took the gun out of my bag. I never meant to shoot him at all. Not for a minute. You must believe me, Walter. I tried to press the gun against my heart and pull the trigger but he wrestled it away and then it went off. Just once. And killed him. After that I just panicked and ran away.”

I nodded. “Do you still want to kill yourself?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure. Frankly, I try not to think about it.”

“No, please don’t ever do that. Listen, forget about what the priests and psychiatrists tell you. Take it from one who knows. Sometimes it’s only the thought of suicide that gets me through the night. It can be a real consolation.”

“I never know when you’re joking.”

“I have the same problem. Tell me, does Jack know anything about this?”

“No. If he suspects anything he hasn’t said as much.”

“You’re sure about that?”

She nodded. “Jack drinks a lot. He doesn’t notice very much at all. Except the cards he’s been dealt. Somehow he always manages to pay attention to them.”

“What happened to the gun?”

“I still have it upstairs. And there is blood on the dress, you’re right.”

“Go and get the gun and the dress. Oh, and Spinola’s apartment key if you still have it.”

“Are you going to turn me in to the police?”

“Why? It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. But I feel so guilty that it’s almost like I meant to do it. That I really am a murderer.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“I feel sick. They still send people to the guillotine in France, don’t they?”

“Yes, but that’s not going to happen in this case. Look, if you can keep your head about this, then you can keep your head, I promise. Now, go and get those things like I told you.”