She takes out a carton of milk from the fridge. ‘How long you knew her, how close you two were, about your childhood.’
My childhood? What had my childhood to do with Lottie’s murder? I recall the ugly parts: my dad coming home from work, tired and grumpy. I was an energetic child, always playing and causing a racket in the house. Sometimes Dad lost his temper. Sometimes is an understatement; it happened often. He struck me once or twice. He’s a big man over six feet tall. Mum used to get angry at him, so when he came home, she used to make me play in my room in order for my dad to have the peace and quiet he craved so much.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
She places the mug in front of me. ‘I did call you. You never pick up.’
‘I have a lot on my mind,’ I say, glancing down at my tea.
She takes a biscuit. ‘It’s good to talk.’
‘I don’t understand why someone would want to harm her.’
‘Can you think of anyone?’
No, but Davian’s name has come up more than once. No, Davian wouldn’t do something like this. I know him; yes, he’s cold and aloof, but not a killer.
‘No,’ I say.
‘Maybe it’s a stalker. You know how it is these days,’ Mom says.
I consider this, Lottie becoming a victim of a lunatic. However, she knew the killer. Of this, I am sure. Those videos are a clue to who it might be.
***
Lottie’s Recordings. Clip six
I met Abdel for drinks last weekend. He’s a photographer who does a few jobs for Giselle, but he mainly photographs models. We’re taking it slow and I don’t want to rush into a relationship. The other day, Davian told me from now onwards, any issues I might have, I pass them through him, not Giselle, as she has things to do. I don’t like the tone he uses when speaking to me, with arrogance, superiority. Could this guy be any more overbearing?
***
Between her working there and seeing Abdel, I saw less of her and I had my own life. One time, I did go to the office to drop off a sculpture for Giselle. Lottie was sorting out the filing room which looked immaculate; she was proud of what she had done and I high-fived her for a job well done.
‘I’m sorry we don’t meet as often as we used to,’ she said.
‘It’s okay, I’m busy too. How’s Davian? Is he here?’
‘I haven’t seen him.’
‘How are you holding up?’ I asked her
She looked down at her shoes. ‘It’s okay.’
‘Just okay?’
‘Well, it’s different.’
‘Have you taken your break yet?’
‘No.’
‘Want to tell me all about it over a quick bite?’
She gave me a dazzling smile. ‘I would love that.’
***
Davian enjoys wasting my time. As if I have nothing better to do. Like the other day, he sent me to buy him PE papers and other photographic equipment. He gave me a list of things of what he wanted.
I set off to find him the papers; it made me wonder why he doesn’t go and buy them himself. I know nothing about photographic equipment. What if I get him the wrong thing and he tells me off? It cost me a full day of my work because I couldn’t find the item anywhere in stock. I was about to give up when I found them in the last store. I returned with the items a little after six and he was putting on his coat.
‘I don’t need them now,’ he said.
My blood boiled. Hot, angry tears curled into me. I opened his studio door and dumped the items on the floor.
***
I had no idea why he played those games with her; that’s all they were, games. There were things she didn’t tell me about, like this one. I suppose Lottie didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to create a strain between Davian and me.
I have to find out the places she had been to in the last three days of her life. She had dinner at the Japanese restaurant. No use for me to go there except to eat or to impress a lady. I need to speak to Ella again; I still need to talk to Abdel, Lilia and Davian.
Chapter Ten
I spent the rest of the night googling the murder. There are pictures of the police outside her apartment. The Daily Mail wrote the estimated time of death was around midnight. The neighbours heard nothing suspicious about that time apart from the music. No one saw anything out of the ordinary. A neighbour said she saw Lottie leaving the apartment ‘all dolled up’ at 7:30 pm.
I close the tab and I go to the password-protected folder again. I try her favourite city, Paris, and the dog she had until he died, Skittles. Nothing. I tapped my index finger on the keyboard. I log on to Facebook and go to her profile, which is filled with touching messages from her friends.
You are a flower, the moon and the stars. You were beautiful and always so full of life. Rest in peace, my dear friend and sister, Ella wrote.
I can’t express the shock of this news. You were a wonderful friend, Lilia wrote.
I don’t write anything; whatever I have to say, I’ll say it to her at the funeral. I don’t have to declare it to the world to show that I cared. I log out of Facebook and continue where I left off.
***
Lottie’s Recordings. Clip seven
This weekend, Abdel surprised me with a romantic trip to Venice; he went as far as calling Giselle and asking her if I could have the weekend off.
‘That’s not all,’ he said.
‘There is more?’ I squealed.
‘We’re going to stay at The Gritti Palace,’ he said, and began to tap on his tablet.
A few seconds later, he showed me pictures of the hotel as I covered my mouth with my hands in awe. ‘It’s beautiful; we’ll be staying here?’ I point at the screen.
He beamed proudly. ‘Sure we are, babe.’
‘I don’t know what to say. I mean, no one’s done anything like this for me before.’
He took my hand and rubbed it with his thumb. ‘You deserve nothing but the best.’
I went back to work on Monday with a glow on my face. I walked past Davian. I held my head high as I wiggled past him; not even he was going to ruin my mood. Later that day, I was in the kitchen making myself a cup of coffee when Davian walked in.
‘You are dating Abdel?’ Davian asked, leaning against the door.
I wanted to tell him it's none of his business; it’s not like he’s told me anything about his life, why should I expose mine?
‘How do you know?’ I asked, pouring sugar in my coffee.
‘I’ve seen you two together.’ He helped himself to the fresh pot of coffee that I’d made.
Did he see us together? ‘Where?’
He smirked. ‘Does it matter?’
I blinked down at my coffee. Of course he wasn’t going to tell me. He leaned against the counter.
‘You know he used to date Belle, the supermodel,’ he said.
‘Yes, I know.’
‘At least, he makes you look desirable,’ he snarled, before walking away.
I shut my eyes and tried to keep my breathing under control, but I couldn’t. He speaks to me as if I am dirt, he shuts the door in my face, he made me buy photographic equipment he didn’t need just to amuse himself, but enough was enough. I will not be spoken to like this and keep my mouth shut. Yes, Abdel had a fling with a supermodel and yes, it makes me insecure. I mean, how can I even begin to compete with that? However, I reasoned Abdel was with me. He took me to Venice after all. I’m not a supermodel, but there had to be something about me he liked. Because Davian is good looking, it doesn’t give him the right to walk all over me. I knew he thought Abdel made a downgrade compared to the likes of Belle, but Melissa was no movie star either. I slammed my hands so hard against the counter, the coffee splashed, making a round stain on the surface.