Sunday
Since Robert thought it bad form for Cleo to go off
sleuthing on a Sunday morning, in his view a day of rest that belonged to him,
Cleo was forced to emphasize the necessity of finding Dr Marble’s killer as
soon as possible to avoid further bloodshed.
“I expect you’ll be glad to see Hurley again,” he said.
“I don’t expect you to understand the urgency of the
situation, though you listened to the discussion last night between catnaps,
but I do expect you not to belittle my work with Gary. It’s very petty of you
to accuse me of doing the investigating in order to be with him.”
“You should be spending your free time with me.”
“It is not free time for me, Robert.”
“As usual, you’ll go anyway, so let’s not talk about it. I’m
going to have a lie-in and then spend the morning waiting for you”.
“That’s entirely up to you, Robert.”
***
Cleo was glad to get away from Robert. It was becoming
increasing more evident that what she felt for him was not love or even much
affection. Why the hell didn’t she kick him out?
***
To Cleo’s surprise, Gary was at the Marble villa before she
was. That made it easier for her, since the policeman guarding the door had
been told that she was coming and instructed to let her in.
Mrs Riddle had left things as they were the day before. She
had watched Dr Marble being taken away and apparently shown no emotion. The
forensic team had finished its work, but the ring-binders were still strewn
over the study floor since tidying them away was not one of their tasks and Mrs
Riddle was not allowed to touch anything.
Cleo and Gary were going to scrutinize everything. Cleo decided
that it would be useful to accompany the investigation with restoring order. She
would get Mrs Riddle to help her later in the hope that the housekeeper would
remember something helpful. Cleo and Gary put on the latex gloves they used to
examine exhibits and started on the job in hand.
***
Whoever had been disturbed had already dislodged
ring-binders containing files starting with the letter K, and strewn them on
the carpet as he or she searched through them. Pulling out the K files was an
indication that it could have been Kelly except that someone else might have
had a vested interest in finding out more about the Irishman. The wills Cleo
had seen and photographed were no longer there. Had other documents been stolen? There was no
way of telling. The K ring-binder was jam-packed when the documents strewn on
the floor were filed. Only a few pages could be missing.
Together with any prints found, the chaos in the study and
any other evidence forensics could find would, however, be enough to support
the breaking and entering charge that Greg had brought against Kelly. A charge
was not a conviction, but it was a valid reason for keeping a suspect behind
bars.
“I just hope that whoever did this did not remove any other wills,”
said Cleo. ”What a good thing I managed to photograph the ones Dr Marble took
out, but as far as the signatures are concerned, I expect Kelly had copied
document signatures from documents he found at the farmhouse. If his parents
had washed their hands of him years ago, it’s logical that they refused to sign
their property over to him when he turned up. That would be a reason to kill if
he was desperate and still felt the kind of hatred that had accompanied him all
the years in between,” said Cleo. “But if he wasn’t their son, it was simply a
case of carefully planned murder.”
“Always assuming that the scenario we are envisaging did
occurr,” said Gary.
“He’s kept the game up for about 20 years so he’s unlikely
to change the story everyone seems to know,” said Cleo.
A quick search through the files brought more Kelly
documents to light in the XYZ file. Was filing them a method of hiding them?
Not a very clever one, but the files seemed intact and the ring-binder was
still on the shelf alongside one entitled UV.
“I wonder what Kelly did before he came to the farm,” mused
Gary. “What if he is a relative, after all?”
“You’re talking like Dorothy. She comes up with hunches like
that.”
“But why would Kelly indulge in cloak and dagger stuff if he
was going to inherit anyway?” said Cleo.
“To make sure he did, I suppose,” said Gary. “He was not
mentioned in the first will, a copy of which he had read. That meant that he
had to invent a will if he wanted to inherit.”
“Or he was a stranger and had no rights except the ones he
invented for himself by becoming the prodigal son,” said Cleo.
“Very biblical. Sounds like a Dorothy hunch,” said Gary.
“Be generous, Gary. Dorothy is a great supporter of the
Hartley Agency, and I’m going to make her a partner. She also believes
implicitly in you.”
“She does?”
“What are you going to do with the Kelly documents?” Cleo asked.
“I’ll confiscate them and get Nigel to look through them
again at HQ. He’s good a spotting anomalies.”
“Or ask him to come here, Gary. That would make it easier.”
“You’re right,” said Gary.
“I’ll stay here and clear up with Mrs Riddle. She might say
something of note.”
“Can we lock this door so that no one gets in before Nigel?”
“There is a key in the door, but someone else may have a
duplicate,” said Cleo.“
“At the moment, Kelly is our only suspect., Cleo. What about
that nephew?”
“I rather hope Mrs Riddle will tell me,” said Cleo. “But if
there is a second person involved, it makes sense to have police presence.”
***
Cleo and Gary found Mrs Riddle in the kitchen sorting out
all the fresh foodstuffs.
“I’m going to stay with my sister and my niece,” she told
them. “I just wanted to make sure there’s nothing in the fridge that would go
off while I’m away.”
“Tell us where we can reach you, Mrs Riddle,” Gary said
rather officiously.
“You are coming back soon, aren’t you, Mrs Riddle?” Cleo
asked.
“It’s my home, Miss Hartley. I’ve been left part of the
house, haven’t I?”
“Have you?”
“Dr Marble said I would be.”
“Maybe that’s not quite what he meant.”
“His only relative lives somewhere abroad. Dr Marble didn’t
approve of him.”
“Do you know him, Mrs Riddle?” Gary asked.
“When he a boy I saw him once or twice, but that’s a long
time ago. I don’t suppose I’d recognize him now.”
Cleo and Gary exchanged glances. Was the guy really abroad?
“Have you seen Dr Marble’s most recent will, Mrs Riddle?”
“What’s recent, Miss Hartley?”
Cleo was unable to decide if that meant yes, I have, or no,
I haven’t. She wondered how much Mrs Riddle had seen or known of anything. The
woman was sewn up under questioning.
***
Something was holding Cleo back from trusting Mrs Riddle. Was
there a will among the papers that actually left the villa to the housekeeper? Cleo
planned to make a systematic search when Mrs Riddle was out of the house. Dr Marble’s
filing system was organized according to his logic. Files he wanted to hide
from Mrs Riddle or anywhere else were stuffed into other ring-binders according
to a system only he knew about. A will benefitting Mrs Riddle would not have been
removed by her and possibly not found by anyone looking it.
“Did Dr Marble keep some important documents in a bank safe,
Mrs Riddle?” Gary asked her.
“No. He used to say that the bank looked at his things when
he was not there. He has a small safe behind that picture of Snowdon in the
sun,” Mrs Riddle said, pointing to the painting, a rough and ready account of
Snowdon or some other hill.”
“But you can’t open the safe yourself, can you, Mrs Riddle?”
“Heavens no, Sir.”
“So you don’t know the safe code.”
“Not really.”
“Meaning that you do, Mrs Riddle?” said Gary.
“I did once, but he changed it every so often.”
“How do you know that, Mrs Riddle?”
Because he once told me.”
“Well, never mind,” said Cleo. She did not think Mrs Riddle
was being truthful. “The will leaving you the villa must be here somewhere.”
“We’ll get a safe expert to open it,” said Gary, realizing
that Mrs Riddle would hardly conceal knowledge of the will’s whereabouts if she
was the main beneficiary. So that document might not exist.
“Can you come into the study for a moment before you go,
Gary? I’ve just thought of something.”
“OK.”
“Excuse us one minute, Mrs Riddle” Cleo improvised.
In the study, Cleo pointed out that as Mrs Riddle was being
cagey about Dr Marble’s will. It might be useful to have a look at it pretty
soon. Gary thought it must be in the safe if it existed, and he would get someone to open it a.s.a.p., although he
was sure that there was no such will leaving the villa to Mrs Riddle. Cleo went
to a slim ring-binder marked ‘Artisans and Plumbers’ and put it on the desk.
“I’m rather surprised that the intruder did not pull this one
out,” said Cleo.
“I can’t see why an intruder would be interested in Dr
Marble’s plumbers. We all have our pet artisans. Dr Marble obviously wanted to
keep a record of the workmen who came here. A quick look at the contents
verified what Gary had assumed.
“Would you like me to tell Mrs Riddle to stay here, Cleo?”
“No. Let her believe we believe her. After all, she might be
telling the truth and she would not hide a document if it was to her advantage
to produce it.”
“I just don’t see the reason for Dr Marble’s cloak and
dagger filing system,” said Gary.
“You are not an elderly solicitor with a pathological fear
of people nosing around, Gary.”
“Justified, as it transpires,” said Gary.
“Dr Marble had a tidy mind, so we’ll have to look carefully
for that will, if it exist, and we’ll start with the artisans,” said Cleo.
“Your wish is my command,” said Gary.
***
The will in question was found between receipts for new
wiring and various other invoices. The house had been left in equal parts to
Mrs Riddle for life and someone called Sylvie Thomson, whom Mrs Riddle had not
mentioned. Who was Sylvie? She would have the whole villa after Mrs Riddle’s
decease so she had a motive, too.
“She was right, wasn’t she?” said Gary. “Assuming Sylvie is
a young lady, leaving his property to the next generation would be normal,
while taking care of his housekeeper.”
“Except that the nephew is not getting anything and we have
no idea who Sylvie is or how old she is.”
“You don’t have to leave anything to someone you dislike, so
he probably disliked Harry,” said Gary, “ and we don’t know if Dr Marble was a
ladies’ man and may have other progeny he has also excluded.”
“I wonder if that nephew knew he was not going to inherit
anything.”
“The will is still here,” said Gary. “He would only have to
read it to know how things stood. And he may have photographed it, of course.”
“So you now suspect that the nephew might have searched for
the will, and found it.”
“It is likely, isn’t it?”
“We now probably have two cases of someone chasing after the
solicitor’s will, neither of whom took it away,” said Gary. ”We also have a
housekeeper who believes that the will is in the safe. There are usually
verified copies of important documents, so Mrs Riddle would be confident that her
rights were protected by that safe.”
“That does not take account of digital possibilities, does
it?” said Cleo.
“No, and I’ll get photos of the will now. Then it can stay
here filed somewhere else.”
***
“Mrs Riddle must know who Sylvie is,” said Cleo. “I wonder
if someone tried to force Dr Marble into something.”
“Assuming that person knew about the original will, Cleo.
You sounded like Dorothy then.”
“But she would say that she does not think Dr Marble’s death
was premeditated.”
“The guy is dead. Whoever killed him for whatever reason
must be caught,” said Gary.
Harry was turning out to be a second suspect now the idea
that more than one person was hell bent on finding the will was taking shape.
“We must trace Harry,” said Gary, going back into the
kitchen. “Do you know the nephew’s surname, Mrs Riddle?”
“I can’t remember. Dr Marble’s sister was married twice. I
don’t know which husband is the father. I only met Harry as a child.”
“It would be useful to know a bit more about him,” said
Gary, and Cleo frowned at him. He was jumping the guns and possibly scaring Mrs
Riddle off.
“But don’t worry about it. I’m just curious, Mrs Riddle,“
said Gary smiling at her. “Thanks for your help. I know it must be hard for
you.”
Mrs Riddle was putting on a brave face.
“Just one more question, Mrs Riddle,” said Cleo. “Do you
know Sylvie Thomson?”
Mrs Riddle looked perturbed. Cleo decided Gary should leave
now and let her ask questions about Sylvie.
“I’ll see you out, Gary. I’m planning to stay here with Mrs
Riddle for a while.”
At the door, Cleo told Gary that she would find out about Sylvie
and let Mrs Riddle chat about anything she cared to. She would offer to take the
housekeeper to officially identify Dr Marble the station the following morning.
“By the time I’ve finished talking with her we will be old
friends, Gary.”
“Thanks, Cleo. I’m grateful for your support. No one can ask
questions like Miss Hartley.”
“Thanks, Gary. It means a lot to me, even if you are
bad-tempered some of the time. You knocked Mrs Riddle over with that smile!”
“See you around,” said Gary innocuously in quite a loud
voice. If Mrs Riddle was to hear anything at all, it would be an innocent
adieu. On the steps of the villa the adieu was followed by a quick embrace.
***
Cleo went back into the kitchen. Mrs Riddle was taking food out
of the fridge and a large sports bag was waiting to hold it. Her sister would
be delighted. Dr Marble had been a gourmet.
“That inspector is in love with you,” said Mrs Riddle.
“I know and I’m in love with him, Mrs Riddle, but I’m trying
not to be. I’m married to someone else.”
“Oh, dearie me. And the baby?”
“I don’t know whose it is, Mrs Riddle.”
“Follow your heart, Miss Hartley.”
“If the Inspector was here, he’d want to hug you for that,
Mrs Riddle, so I will instead.”
“I know how you feel,” said Mrs Riddle. “I went through
something similar.”
Shaking off her distress, she announced that she would turn
the freezer-fridge down before she left, so that the frozen stuff would not
deteriorate.
“Do you want me to come in and check?” Cleo asked.
“Would you?”
“Of course, but I’ll need a door key.”
“There’s one in the cutlery drawer over there, Miss Hartley.
I’ll be back in a week.”
“Don’t forget to leave me your phone number and address.”
“They are written in the phone book in the hall, Miss
Hartley.”
“Good. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Not really.”
“What about Sylvie, Mrs Riddle? Was she very special to Dr
Marble?”
“She’s his child, Miss Hartley. My sister had an affair with
him.”
“Wow!”
“I’ve always thought there was a likeness, then, when I saw
the will…”
“You’ve seen the will, then.”
“Yes, but only briefly. I’m sorry I told a lie, Miss
Hartley. Your policeman seemed so stern. He frightened me a little.”
“I don’t think he meant to, Mrs Riddle. He’s really as
gentle as a kitten.”
“Not all the time, I hope.”
“You mean as a lover?” Cleo asked.
Cleo realized that the conversation was getting rather
intimate, but she had plenty of experience to know that telling a confidence or
two often produced vital information.
“Well, yes. I suppose I do,” said Mrs Riddle.
“He’s fantastic, Mrs Riddle.”
The housekeeper nodded and smiled to herself.
“Did you ever get another look at the will when Dr Marble
was out?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. Dr Marble was very particular
about his privacy.”
But not particular about having an affair with his
housekeeper’s sister, Cleo decided.
“Do you remember anything more about yesterday, Mrs Riddle?”
“I didn’t want to tell that inspector of yours, but there
was money in the top left drawer of Dr Marble’s big desk, and it has gone, Miss
Hartley.”
“Really? You know you should have said something to Mr
Hurley straightaway.”
“I’m telling you now, Miss Hartley.”
“How much money do you think was in the drawer?”
“Well, I get my house-keeping from it and I take 20 pound
notes out as I need them. Dr Marble put £400 in on the first of the month. If
it wasn’t enough, and it usually wasn’t since he ate such expensive food, he
gave me more out of his wallet.”
“That sounds like a good arrangement, Mrs Riddle. It’s half
way through the month so there must have been about £200 left, unless you took
extra money out.”
“I didn’t need to. I took £100 out on the first and £100
last week. Today I wanted to take £100 out and pay the milkman from it. He
wants paying twice a month. There should still have been £200 in the drawer.
That’s how I discovered that all the money had gone.”
“I understand, Mrs Riddle. It’s a good job the milkman wanted
paying or you might not have discovered that the £200 had gone until much
later. The drawer is kept locked, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but the key is in the other drawer. Anyone wanting to
get into that drawer would easily have found the key. I did not get to pay the
milkman today, Miss Hartley, so the milkman will want his money tomorrow. What
shall I do?”
“It will come out of the estate, Mrs Riddle. I’ll pay the
milkman myself and charge the estate. I’ll give you £100 to help you with your travel
expenses. You must just sign for the money so that I can claim it from the
estate.”
“I’ll write the milkman a note not to deliver any more milk,
shall I?”
“Only for a week, Mrs Riddle. You’ll be back here soon.”
“I’m not sure I want to live here alone, Miss Hartley. This
house creaks at night and Dr Marble may want haunt it since he was taken so
suddenly.”
“Then you will have to ask your sister and Silvie to share
it with you,” said Cleo. “But Dr Marble won’t haunt you. I’m sure he liked
having you here, so he will want you to look after the villa, not run away
because you are scared.”
Mrs Riddle thanked Cleo effusively. She told her that Dr Marble had been generous
to a fault. She wished she had had a husband like Dr Marble.
It flashed though Cleo’s mind that Mrs Riddle had been very fond
of her employer.
“I suppose you miss your husband at times like this, Mrs
Riddle.”
“There never was a Mr Riddle, Miss Hartley. Dr Marble’s
sister thought it would be improper if I called myself Miss because of the
neighbours talking.”
“I see. Where is Dr Marble’s sister now?”
“My sister?” Mrs Riddle had not understood the question.
Cleo mused that Dorothy would be proud of her. People often
misheard questions if their mind was elsewhere.
“That’s alright, Mrs Riddle. I understand your dilemma.”
said Cleo. “I know you are going to visit your sister – and her daughter Sylvie,
I guess.”
Before leaving, Cleo asked Mrs Riddle if Chris had
remembered to take her fingerprints.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Mrs Riddle insisted.
“I know that, but
forensic science includes counting out the innocent. Your fingerprints are on
lots of objects. The thief’s prints are probably on top of them if that person
did not wear gloves to open the money drawer.”
Cleo thought that claiming innocence was a strange thing to do
under the circumstances. Had she been a suspect, she would not have been
allowed to go to her sister’s. Cleo pointed that out and made a big effort to
reassure the housekeeper.
“It’s part of the forensic team’s job to identify all the fingerprints
and then yours can be eliminated.”
“Oh, and I was so worried.”
“No need to worry, Mrs Riddle. I’ll collect you and bring more
cash to pay the milkman,” said Cleo. “I’m sure you are looking forward to
seeing your sister’s girl.”
Mrs Riddle nodded. “My niece, Miss Hartley. Just say she’s
my niece.”
“I will. If you prefer that, but there isn’t a sister, is
there?
“I do have a sister, but she lives in Scotland. She visits
Silvie and I think she’s there now.”
“I think she is, Miss Hartley. If you need help at home,
I’ll be back in a week and would be glad of something to do.”
“Would you really?”
“That’s settled then. The usual rate,” said Mrs Riddle,
offering her hand to seal the deal.
“The cottage is Number 10, Monkton Way, Mrs Riddle, and
here’s my business card. All my phone numbers are on it so you can’t miss me.
What time is your train tomorrow?”
Just before ten, Miss Hartley. From Middlethumpton.”
“I’ll pick you up at nine. That will give you plenty of
time.”
“Would you do that? I’m so grateful.”
***
On the way home, Cleo decided that Mrs Riddle was innocent of
anything criminal. She had lost her employer and would lose her home if Sylvie
Thomson wanted to sell up, as she surely would if she did not want to live in the
house her father had left her. She was sure to have made a life for herself
elsewhere. Selling the villa seemed like a sensible option to Cleo.
As far as Dr Marble’s death was concerned, the implications
were clear. Harry could have had a strong motive to kill his uncle if he had done
more than just threaten to disinherit his nephew. Had there been any contact recently?
Was Harry Marble’s visit a last attempt to get his uncle to change his mind?
Cleo wondered if there had been e-mail contact. Dr Marble did not have a
computer on his desk, but there was a sleek notebook in one of the desk’s
capacious drawers and it was probable that he had communicated per e-mail. Cleo
thought the laptop was probably secured by a password that she would be unable
to crack herself and whoever had broken in did not have any use for it, or it
would no longer be there. There were several reasons for meeting Gary again
pretty soon. She would phone him on her mobile where there were no
eavesdroppers: in her car..
***
“Gary, there are one or two things we must discuss.”
“Go on!”
“Sylvie Thomson was Dr Marble’s daughter, not a niece.”
“So the sister had an
affair with Mrs Riddle’s employer.”
“It gets more complicated. I assume that Mrs Riddle is
Sylvie’s mother. The sister lives in Scotland. Judging from what Mrs Riddle had
to say, Harry could be a suspect.”
“Did Mrs Riddle remember his surname?”
“No, but there may be something in the Marble telephone book
if we’re lucky. I didn’t want to press the matter. Mrs Riddle needs time to get
over the shock of Dr Marble’s fate, which is no wonder, seeing that almost
certainly had a child together and she was in Dr Marble’s view only the housekeeper,
and the child farmed out to the sister.
I think Mrs Riddle was hoping the guy would marry her one
day. I’m going to take her to the station early tomorrow morning, and then I will
go back to the house and pay the milkman. I also advanced Mrs Riddle £100 from
the estate. I have a receipt for that money and will get a receipt from the
milkman tomorrow. I hope the lawyer dealing with the estate can organize the interim
finances quickly. The house has to be looked after. Mrs Riddle gave me a door
key.”
“How did you manage that? The police guard will still be on
duty.”
“They should watch out for Harry.”
“I’ll give instructions to detain anyone who turns up.”
“Except the milkman,” said Cleo.
“Especially the milkman, Cleo! Who knows if it’s the genuine
one or he lies in a ditch somewhere.”
“Cop’s nose again? You’re right, of course. I’m going to water
the house plants, but I’ll be careful.”
“She really trusts you, doesn’t she, Cleo?”
“Why shouldn’t she? I’m not the cops! She has offered to do
some cleaning for me, Gary and I said it was a good idea. That shows that she
believes I trust her, too.”
“It all depends on Mrs Riddle being innocent, of course.
Otherwise she might find herself behind bars before she has time to clean your
office. For now she is not a suspect. She would hardly have smashed her boss’s
head to smithereens, hit herself on the head then put it herself in the gas oven,
would she?”
“No, but an accomplice might.”
“Did she tell you the sister’s name?”
“I forgot to ask. I don’t know where the sister is now. I
was so taken aback by the news that Dr Marble had an illegitimate daughter. I
expect we’ll find her address in the phone book next to the phone in the hall.
I would have taken it, but Mrs Riddle might have needed it before leaving.”
***
“Our solicitor was quite a dark horse,” said Gary. “Mrs
Riddle will be out of the way from tomorrow and by then Chris should have evaluated
all the fingerprints. I know we could go in today and read that phone book, but
I don’t want Mrs Riddle put on her guard. She can deal with the funeral
arrangements when she gets back. I don’t think the body will be released for
some days. Chris will want a second opinion on the cause of death. He says it’s
better for him, since once a corpse has been cremated there is no chance of
changing an autopsy report.”
“The cop at the villa front door spells out crime, Gary.”
“That’s true, but he’s needed in case Harry turns up.”
“Except that he’d get away fast when he saw the cop.”
“Police procedure, Cleo. I have to obey the rules.”
“It’s time they were changed. No felon will stick around to
deal with a cop. They aren’t even armed. That makes them vulnerable and even
more superfluous.”
“Tell that to the Home Secretary.”
“I might just do that. You suspect Mrs Riddle of being
implicated in some way, don’t you, Gary?”
“Don’t you?”
“I can’t see how. She even told me about the housekeeping
money missing from Dr Marble’s desk.“
“Why didn’t she tell me that? It could be a vital clue.”
“I think she was afraid you would suspect her of theft,
Gary.”
“Do you suspect her, Cleo?”
“No. If she had taken the money she would hardly have told
me about its existence, would she?”
“That’s a sound argument. What are you doing for the rest of
the day?”
“I should concentrate on the Blakes.”
“Who are...?”
“The witnesses on Kelly’s will. They wrote clearly on the
first of the two wills I photographed, but might have just scribbled their
names on the second one. I want to know for sure that they did not sign that second
will, as I suspect. That would mean that the testament is definitely forged.”
“A graphologist would know, Cleo, but since they witnessed
the first will they must have known the Kelly family. So it’s worth talking to
them first. Keep me posted and don’t get
into any dangerous situations. Take Dorothy along. She seems to be a good
catalyst! On second thoughts, do you want me to go with you?”
”I want you, Gary, but not there.”
“Message read. Later?”
“It is Sunday, Gary. I’ll have to show my face at home.”
“Your decision, Cleo.”
“Point taken. One more idea for now.”
“Go on!”
“If Harry Marble knows he has been omitted from the valid
will and also knows Sylvie is Dr Marble’s daughter, he might decide to look for
her and kill her.”
“But surely he has known that for a long time.”
“Not necessarily. He lived abroad for years.”
“So we should keep tabs on the girl, too.”
“I think it would be a good idea, Gary.”
“Then I’ll get a plain clothes cop to follow Mrs Riddle to
her destination without her noticing. Presumably that’s where she’ll meet up
with her family.”
“That’s her plan. I’m collecting her at nine and taking her
to Middlethumpton station. Your plain-clothes guy could pick us up there. Give
me his cell phone number and I’ll give him exact information about the train.”
“That sounds great. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“I should look for a new blazer, so I’ll be in
Middlethumpton for hours.”
“Do you need a new blazer?”
“No.”
“So you’ll meet me at Romano’s?”
“Yes.”
“No regrets?”
“No.”
“I mean about us?”
“No. Je t’aime, Gary.”
“Moi aussi. A bientot.”
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