Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Also by Philip Kerr
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
The questions were arriving fast now, like a boxer’s jabs, snapped in from one man and then the other. I’d fought this bout and many others like it before, however; so I tucked my head down into my shoulder, lifted my left to cover myself against a sucker punch, and prepared to defend myself at all times.
“Were you ever at his apartment in Nice?”
“No. He never asked me.”
“And the casino? Did you ever go there?”
I pulled a face. “I don’t like casinos very much. For one thing, I don’t have any money I can afford to lose. And for another, I don’t care for the odds. And I haven’t even mentioned the architecture. Most casinos look like opera houses and I never much liked the opera.”
“Is money important to you?”
“Not especially,” I lied. “As a matter of fact, I’ve always found it very purifying to be without much of it. Especially when you see what a lot of the stuff can do to people.”
“What about Spinola? Is he short of money, do you think?”
“No. But then he hasn’t showed me his checking account.”
“Does he have any enemies?”
For a moment I thought about the gun he’d given me that was now on top of my lavatory cistern and then shook my head. All of a sudden I seemed to have so many guns and so little documentation for any of them. I felt like a forgotten armory.
“None that he’s mentioned.”
“What about friends?”
“That’s what I say. What about them? Inspector, Spinola’s my only real friend. I can’t say if the same is true for him. I certainly hope not, because I’m not much of a friend.”
“What about women?”
“He doesn’t talk about them that much. He’s careful like that. Too careful, perhaps. Because I imagine there must have been someone.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Inspector, he’s an Italian. And a good-looking Italian at that. Not to mention the fact he’s unmarried. I can’t imagine him letting those three things go to waste in a place like the French Riviera.”
“And you’re a German.”
“What can I say? I’ve not been as lucky with women as he is, I expect.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“All right then, how about this. Germans and Italians—we have a habit of forming alliances. By the way, you have my apologies for the previous alliance.”
“Where were you last night?”