Weddings were supposed to bring joy, but this one brought nothing but misery.

I took one last look at Spencer before I went back inside.

I’ve always tried my best not to think about her. To let her go. To let her live her life. But I’ve known, from the moment I heard about this wedding, that it could only be about her.

Nadia, this was all for you. So I could at least try to give you the life you deserve.

FIONA FONSEKA

Interview Transcript: Fiona Fonseka (abbrev. FF)

Date: January 25, 2020

Location: The Mount Lavinia Hotel

EP: Thank you for coming up, Mrs. Fonseka. I understand that this is a difficult time for you. I promise to make this as quick as possible. Could you please state your name and address so we can get started?

FF: As you already know, my name is Fiona Fonseka. I am the mother of Kaavindi Fonseka.

EP: And your address, please?

FF: [Sighs]

[Pause]

EP: Mrs. Fonseka?

FF: Are all these formalities important at a time like this?

EP: I just need it for the record, ma’am. I apologize.

FF: My husband is paying for this entire private investigation, Eshanya, and here I am, being treated like a criminal when there’s a killer on the loose.

EP: I can assure you, ma’am, that this is just routine questioning and that we are just trying to get as clear a picture as possible about what happened to your daughter.

FF: [Pause] Fine. My address is 28 Maitland Crescent, Colombo 07. Is that enough?

EP: Perfect. Thank you. Would you mind telling us about the days leading up to the wedding? Did anything appear unusual?

FF: Well, we don’t have weddings like this every day, you know. Everything was unusual. I wouldn’t have settled for anything less.

EP: Let me phrase it this way—was there anyone unusual you saw who might have posed a threat? Anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there?

FF: You already know that there was. Actually, there were two people who had no place being there. Honestly, I don’t know why we are wasting so much time when you should be investigating them instead.

EP: Could you name them for the record, please?

FF: Well, the first, I believe, was mentioned by my daughter. Some strange man who showed up at the hotel brandishing a gun. A gun, could you believe it? And yet, here I am, answering questions like some sort of criminal.

EP: The hotel security claimed they did not find a gun.

FF: Well, I saw it with my own two eyes, so I have no idea how incompetent those buffoons are.

EP: We still haven’t managed to ID this man. Are you sure you have no leads on who he could be?

FF: Look, it’s no small wonder that there are people jealous of my family. It could have been anyone.

EP: And who was the other person?

FF: Excuse me?

EP: The other person you said had no place being at the wedding.

FF: I can’t believe you even have to ask.

EP: Mrs. Fonseka, I assure you, we are doing a thorough investigation. I just need you to state for the record—

FF: Amaya Bloom wasn’t supposed to be there. Did you catch that for your record?

EP: Why was she not supposed to be there?

FF: Kaavindi claimed to have invited her when she first got here, but I don’t buy that for a moment. Kaavindi was like that, you know, always taking on charity cases. But she was not supposed to be there because Amaya had promised not to be there. Not now. Not ever. We made a deal, five years ago, that she was to stay away from my daughter, and my entire family.

EP: Could you please elaborate on this deal a little further?

FF: I suppose I don’t have a choice, now do I? Amaya has always been in and out of our house since she was a child. I wasn’t very happy with Kaavindi mingling with her, you know, given her family background. But my husband, as always, took pity on the girl and welcomed her into our family against my judgment. Look how that has turned out today, hmm?

Amaya was always getting into trouble. Boys especially. You name it. My husband had to step in when she had an affair with her teacher at school—he tried to keep the details quiet from me. Then there was that business with the boy who crashed his car. But this time, well, this time she went too far. She preyed on my husband’s kindness is what it was.

She turned up one day on our doorstep—we didn’t even know that she was back in Colombo, for goodness’ sake. She was supposed to be with Kaavindi in the States. Kaavi was about to start her internship at J.P. Morgan at the time. Anyway, Amaya gave us some excuse about her getting over a bad relationship or something. I know the kind of girl she was. Probably ran off with some foreign man, just like her mother. At least her mother had the sense to get married first.

But my husband took pity on her, as always, and told her to stay with us.

We told everyone that there was a break-in at her house, and that she was staying with us because she was scared—we couldn’t have the Colombo gossips digging into these matters, no? Well, thank goodness we had enough sense to make that excuse, because what happened next was truly the height of madness.

I still can’t believe she tried to hide it. What did she think would happen? That if she ignored things her problems would just go away? I realized that she was pregnant first, you know. Vomiting at all ridiculous hours. It was such a task to have the tests done discreetly, but it confirmed my worst suspicions. And then we had to go through so much to keep the whole thing quiet. We even had to sack one of our maids who was trying to be too familiar and asked too many questions.

I thought that she would choose to have an abortion, like most girls in her position, but she was too far along by then. It’s hard enough to find a doctor to do the procedure in Colombo, but none of them would take the risk of losing a patient’s life. They would be taken in by the authorities in no time. We ended up hiring a midwife and having a home birth, right in my husband’s office, if you could believe it. So many rooms in our house and that’s the only one that’s soundproof.

And of course my husband insisted. Decided that we would take in the baby. But I had had enough. Don’t get me wrong—I adore little Nadia. She is sweet and kind and obedient, unlike either of her two elder sisters and certainly unlike her mother. But I had enough of Amaya and her conniving ways. The agreement was that we would take in her daughter and raise her as our own—despite my initial reservations and despite what it made us look like in society—but Amaya was to keep away. She was never to contact us, or Kaavindi, again. She agreed. What other choice did she have but to accept our generosity? She could barely take care of herself, much less a child.

EP: Mrs. Fonseka, this, well, this is quite a delicate question, and I apologize for having to ask it. Were you aware of who Nadia’s father was?

FF: Hmph—if you’re really serious about this investigation, my dear, you should probably have the guts to come out and say what you really mean. You’re asking, not delicately at all, I might add, whether the rumors are true. Whether my husband is Nadia’s father, am I right?

EP: I apologize, Mrs. Fonseka. We are just trying to establish a motive. A possible cause for—

FF: Well, establish this, my dear. My husband is a typical man. I’m sure he has his indiscretions. But his main fault is being too soft. Listens to his children and tries to be their friend without telling them what to do. Look at where that has led us? Children don’t need friends. They have plenty of friends. What they do need is someone to look out for them. To make sure that they don’t make decisions they regret. To live a life they would be proud to show to society.

We don’t know who Nadia’s father is. Neither do we care. It was probably one of the many men she no doubt had affairs with in the US.