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As she gathered her things, the inspector began to question Robertu. ‘Mr Falzon, did you know your brother was engaged in criminal activity in Marseille?’

Robertu shook his head sadly. ‘No, but I suppose I’m not shocked. Lawrenz chased money, gambled, spent it uselessly.’

He was so convincing that Valentina almost believed him. But why didn’t he share what he knew? Maybe he had also worked out that the problems Lawrenz was bringing to the family would die with him. There was a kind of freedom for him, too, without his older brother in the picture.

‘Let me know what you need. I know where all the paperwork is for the bar,’ Robertu added.

‘Perfect. I’m sorry to encroach on your grief, but this would be very helpful.’

‘Well, I shall leave you both to it,’ Valentina said.

‘I’ll come down with you,’ the inspector said, ‘if you don’t mind waiting for me, Mr Falzon?’

Robertu shook his head. ‘See you a bit later,’ he said to Valentina.

Downstairs at street level, Inspector Vella eyed her dolefully and shook her hand. ‘I wanted to reassure you,’ he said. ‘As I told your friend, Mr Fox, He works in mysterious ways.’ He pointed to the sky. ‘As far as I’m concerned, your husband’s death has been explained and there is no case to answer. For the rest – the criminal activity that we received the tip about’—he looked at her meaningfully—‘well, we shall let the police follow their protocols.’ He cleared his throat a little dramatically, then he gave a sort of bow. ‘Mrs Falzon. Please accept my condolences.’

Her heart felt like it was in her stomach.

He knew she had made the phone call to the French police.

He knew she had been the one disguising her voice; she had practised relentlessly until she was sure she could speak confidently in a gruff-enough voice.

She hadn’t killed Lawrenz, but she’d done enough to ensure he was on the run, choosing a life as a fugitive or in prison.

The look Inspector Vella now gave her said, That was a smart and clever move. What he actually said aloud was equally kind. ‘I hope your life beyond this tragedy becomes brighter.’

‘Thank you,’ she said and nodded at him, acknowledging she understood what had just passed between them. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so,’ she said and left him to it.

THIRTY-ONE

Maria was walking down the street towards her as Valentina left the house. ‘I was coming back to check on you,’ the older woman said. ‘How⁠—’

‘The police are upstairs with Robertu sorting through things. Can you take Danjel?’ Valentina asked.

‘Of course. But where are you going?’

‘I need some air,’ Valentina said, feeling untethered. ‘I need to walk… think. I’ll just go to the Barrakka Gardens.’

‘Word is getting around.’

Valentina nodded. ‘I won’t be long.’

Maria hugged her. ‘I’ll take him to my home for a while.’

‘Thank you.’

The Barrakka Gardens were not teeming with people, and Valentina was able to find a quiet enough spot to look out to sea and breathe. She felt deeply conflicted.

Her husband was dead.

The man of her dreams was here.

They had made love, made promises, perhaps even made plans for the future – Peter had been interrupted in airing his own. But most of all, Peter had admitted to loving her, to wanting to give a home and love to Danjel.

The next step… well, she could barely contemplate what that might look like. Was her fantasy coming true? Everything she’d ever dreamed of was happening at once, including Lawrenz being gone from her life. She wouldn’t celebrate his death, but she couldn’t help the sense of freedom that was surging through her.

Hard though it was to believe, she was feeling torn about the freedom that beckoned. If Lawrenz hadn’t climbed on the wall, he would still be alive… but it would mean Danjel hadn’t⁠—