You’ll kill me like you killed Gayan Peiris? Huh? Is that what you’d do?

I mustn’t let myself spiral.

But I was already gone. It was like someone else—a ghost, or a demon—had possessed my body. I wasn’t thinking. I was just acting. For the first time in years.

I didn’t check the time. I didn’t want to know if the signs were bad.

I was finally in front of the bonfire.

Are you threatening me, Amaya? I’ll show you threatening, Kaavi. I’ll give you just a glimpse of what I’m capable of.

Taking a deep breath, I hurled the dress into the flames.

It lay there, for just a second, glistening in the firelight—a witch, refusing to burn at the stake. It was more beautiful than ever. But then the fire caught. It was sudden, almost explosive, like an eruption. The flames shot up, high against the darkening sky, as I stood there, panting.

A squeal came from inside.

“The bonfire! Look!”

It was time for me to go. It was dark on the beach, and security had been dismissed on account of all the women prepared to behave badly, so I had no problems slinking back inside.

But not before I heard the screams.

“What’s that on the fire?”

“Oh my god, what is that?”

“What? Is that a dress?”

I didn’t wait to hear more. It was time for me to go home.

I pulled out my phone, almost dropping it as I fumbled to type out my message to Mahesh.

Mahesh, what we talked about. I need it. Tomorrow.

MAHESH

Interview Transcript: Don Samaratungage Mahesh Senadheera (abbrev. DSMS)

Date: January 25, 2020

Location: The Mount Lavinia Hotel

DSMS: What is this now? I was just told to come down here and help with some questions. I wasn’t told anything about a statement being taken, you know. If that is the case, then I need to call my lawyer. Is the Officer in Charge here? Tell him that Mahesh Senadheera is here and wants to speak with him.

[Pause]

Are you actually recording all of this? Don’t you have to get my permission to do that first?

EP: Mr. Senadheera, my apologies. This isn’t a police investigation just yet. We are trying to gather as much information as we can first. This isn’t an official statement. We just need to ask you a few questions.

DSMS: Not official, huh? Okay, I suppose let’s get this done quickly. We are wasting time, you know. We need to find out what happened to the poor girl, and fast. This is such a shame.

EP: Could you please state your full name and address for the record?

DSMS: My name is Don Samaratungage Mahesh Senadheera. Address is 902 Lake Drive, Rajagiriya.

EP: Could you please tell us a little bit about your relationship to Kaavindi Fonseka?

DSMS: My relationship to her? Ha, that’s a hell of a how do you do, no?

[Pause]

Well, if you must know, I have no relationship to her. She was best friends with one of my relatives, so I’ve always seen her around. A bit too much of a big head, if you ask me. Thinks that just because she’s pretty she can have anyone and anything she wants. This is after she went to the US, of course. Before that she was quite a nice girl. We even had a small, you know, a small flirtation when we were teenagers, you know how it is, no, ah? Young love. Anyway, she thinks she’s too good for me now, and I think she’s too full of herself, so that’s how it is.

EP: You did meet Miss Fonseka recently, though, didn’t you?

DSMS: [Pause] I can’t really remember.

EP: Let me remind you. It was in July 2019 at one Mr. Jonathan Subramaniam’s wedding.

DSMS: Ah yes, it was Jona’s wedding. Yes, I think I remember her being there.

EP: And do you remember your conversation with her that evening?

DSMS: My conversation?

[Pause]

Listen, I had a few too many that night. You know how it is at weddings, no? Open bar and all. I think I might have said something to her. I can’t remember what.

EP: We have several witness accounts of you calling her—

[Shuffling of papers]

An “uptight bitch.”

[Pause]

There were also accounts of her telling you, in no uncertain terms, to stop stalking her and that she would never sleep with you. Or were you too inebriated to remember that as well?

DSMS: What the bloody hell is this bullshit? If you have something to ask me, then ask me. Yes, I made a pass at Her Royal Highness Princess Kaavindi Fonseka while I was drunk at a wedding. She wasn’t as innocent as she made it out to be, you know. She was a huge tease, always flirting with everyone but then pretending to be so innocent. Figures she’d finally only give it up to a suddha. She was always too posh for us locals.

Did I call her a bitch? Maybe. So what? She is a bitch.

As for the “stalking”? Please. She’s just desperate for attention. Puts on this fake face for her Instagram page. She’s the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met. You should see how she speaks when there are no cameras around.

EP: Did you maintain a friendship with her sister, Tehani Fonseka?

DSMS: Tehani? No, not really. Though she was easily the better of the two sisters. A lot more relaxed than Kaavi, for sure.

EP: But you met her last night, at the hotel. I didn’t realize you were attending the wedding. Your name wasn’t on the guest list.

DSMS: I wasn’t here for the wedding. I was meeting my friends for a drink at the bar. I knew quite a few of the guys who were going to the wedding and they were getting a drink on the beach. Asked me to come too—one of the guys flying down from Aussie couldn’t make it, so there was a free room and everything. I was on my way down to the bar when I found Tehani. She wasn’t in a good way. Probably had one too many and passed out right there in the corridor. She’d always had problems with—you know . . .

[Makes motion of drinking from a bottle]

I helped her to her room. Her mother would have had her neck if she had found her that way.

EP: Did you know Mr. Matthew Spencer?

DSMS: I met the chap once or twice. Seems okay for a foreigner.

EP: And did you have any business with him?

DSMS: Business with him? No.

EP: The front desk at the hotel said you came to see him last night.

DSMS: Yes.

EP: But you weren’t invited to the wedding?

DSMS: No, but like I said, this is Colombo. Everyone is friends with everybody.

EP: Would you mind answering why you met with Mr. Spencer last night?

DSMS: [Pause]

EP: Mr. Senadheera, would you—

DSMS: Look, the fellow was a little nervous, okay? Who wouldn’t be nervous, marrying someone as high-strung as Kaavindi Fonseka. One of the boys called me. He wanted a little something to help him relax. I thought I’d help the guy out.

EP: I see. And was this your first time supplying him with . . . these relaxants? You didn’t have your driver make a delivery to the Fonseka’s cocktail party on the night of the twenty-first?

DSMS: This was my first time providing it to Matthew Spencer, yes. Though I doubt this was his first time calling out for some. Now if we are to proceed with this line of questioning about where I send my driver, I must warn you that I won’t answer without the presence of my lawyer. I know how you security fellows work, ah. One slip of my tongue and I end up in Welikada.

EP: Understood. Then tell me about your relationship to Miss Amaya Bloom?

DSMS: Amaya? No. I mean, she’s family. Her mother, Sarita, and my mother were second cousins. My mother was the only one who kept in touch with her after she eloped and married Amaya’s father—what was his name now? I can’t even remember. He wasn’t around for too long. Never officially got divorced but supported them financially. He even bought that massive house for them, you know, the one in Cinnamon Gardens? Turns out he had another family in England all along, so maybe they didn’t even need to get divorced. I’m not too sure of the logistics anyway; all I know is that Aunty Sarita’s family disowned her and we are the only ones who kept in touch. My mother cried for weeks when Aunty Sarita died. So yes, I’ve always known Amaya, though we barely kept in touch after she moved to the US. It was almost a surprise to me when she emailed and said she was coming—but then, she and Kaavindi were best friends, so I suppose it isn’t such a big deal.

EP: Were you aware of the strained relationship between Miss Amaya and Miss Fonseka?

DSMS: I had heard through the grapevine that they had some issues—you know how these buggers in Colombo are, no? Love to talk. But I didn’t think too much of it. They’re women, after all. No offense. You know how their moods can be. One moment they love each other, the next they want to kill each other, until they love each other again. I figured it was the same thing with Amaya and Kaavindi.

EP: Did Miss Bloom reach out to you when she visited Sri Lanka five years ago?

DSMS: Five years ago? That was, when, 2013? 2014? We weren’t really in touch at that time. I didn’t even know she was here until much later.

EP: And when she visited this time?

DSMS: She emailed out of the blue to say she was coming for this wedding, and that she would love to meet up. I did what my mother would have wanted me to do and insisted I pick her up from the airport. She’s family, after all. We’ve spoken a few times since then, of course, but she’s been quite busy with wedding activities, from what I gather.

EP: And did she make any requests of you at this time?

DSMS: What do you mean by requests, ah? The hotel manager just told me this was a friendly chat. Trust you buggers to make this into a whole scene.

EP: Mr. Senadheera, we found a notebook with Miss Amaya’s personal belongings. Would you like to see what she has written?

DSMS: [Pause]

EP: Plan C. Buy gun. Speak to M. Worst case only. Kill.

Would you happen to know who M is, Mahesh?

DSMS: No. I have no idea at all, and you’ll be in big trouble if you continue haranguing me like this.

[Stands up and moves toward the door]

If you have any further questions, you can contact my lawyer. This is a hell of a fucking how do you do, no? First you bring up some bullshit that happened at a wedding months ago, and now this? You bastards better get your facts straight before you come pestering me again. Do you know who I am? I can create a fair bit of trouble for you lot if you push my buttons, you know?

Piyadasa, yamu. Let’s go.