Peter shifted in his chair, his back beginning to ache, and stood up. He stretched and began to pace back and forth along the length of the interrogation room. He glanced at the glass, wondering if Donner was back there watching him, playing some kind of game to try and unnerve him.
He checked his watch and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late and he wished Donner would just do whatever he was going to do and stop dragging the thing out. The detective had gotten a note nearly an hour ago and excused himself. He hadn’t been back since.
The door opened and Louis came inside, holding two coffees. He handed one to Peter. He resumed his seat and pulled out some paperwork from his briefcase. “Sit down and relax,” he said, not looking up at Peter. “You’ll be out of here soon.”
“I hope so.”
“You will be. They don’t have enough to hold you. There’s not near enough evidence against you. Their ‘proof’ that you wrote that note would never hold up in court and they know it.”
“What are they doing? Where’s Donner?”
Louis shrugged. “I saw him talking with some man. I got the sense something was up.”
“Should I be worried?”
Louis finally turned to him. “To be honest? I don’t know. I can tell there’s something more going on here than just a break-in at a trailer. Alan Ryder is here.”
“I don’t know. They’re not saying. But it doesn’t make sense that he’d be brought in if they’re going after you for breaking and entering. Peter do you know something you’re not telling me?”
Peter crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, silent.
The door opened abruptly and Detective Donner entered. He was holding a folder and his expression was dazed. He walked up to the table but did not sit down. He stared at Peter.
“Detective Donner,” said Louis, putting his paperwork away and snapping his briefcase shut. “This has gone on long enough. My client has done nothing wrong and you have nothing to charge him with. So why don’t we all just agree that this has been an unfortunate and time wasting mistake-”
“Mr. Glades,” Donner said suddenly, ignoring the lawyer. He opened the folder in his hand and slowly laid the contents out on the table.
Peter saw the security camera photos of Alan leaving and returning to the apartment, he saw the fingerprint report and last, he saw the photo of Layla and Alan. Louis leaned closer to examine the photograph and glanced towards Peter concerned.
“Mr. Glades,” continued Donner, “How long have you known that Alan Ryder killed your wife?”
Evelyn was dreaming. She was at a large party. There was glamour and diamonds all around. A waiter was serving her a cocktail. Everything felt perfect and elegant. She took a sip of her drink. She must be losing her endurance. It wasn’t that strong a drink but she could already feel it go to her head; there was a loud knocking in there.
She jerked awake abruptly to discover the knocking was still there, only now it was coming from her living room. She leaned over and glanced at the clock. It was absurdly early. Feeling a little put out, she pulled herself out of bed and wrapped a dressing gown around herself before stepping into her slippers and exiting out onto the landing. She took the short spiral staircase down to the living room and crossed over to the front door. She glanced through the peephole and frowned.
“Really,” she huffed, opening the door, “Peter do you have any idea what time it is?”
It struck her that Peter was looking a little the worse for the wear. He looked exhausted, his top buttons were unbuttoned, his sleeves where pushed up and his hair was a ruffled mess.
“Whatever is the matter?” she asked, deciding to temporarily drop the matter of the time.
“We need to talk.” He brushed past her into the apartment.
Annoyed, she shut the door and turned to him a little frostily. “Do come in.”
“Evelyn, this is serious.”
“As is my beauty sleep so you’d better have a good reason for barging in at nearly four in the morning.”
“I’ve been at the police station.”
“Oh.” Evelyn blinked. “Oh dear. I hope you’re not in serious trouble.”
“I’m not, no. But Alan is. Which is why I’ve come. He’s going to be arrested and we have to tell Holly. The LAPD will be releasing a statement later today and we can’t let her found out like that.”
“But whatever would he be arrested for?”
Peter rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed heavily. “For killing Layla.”
There was a long shocked silence. Evelyn shook her head. “You’ve got to be joking and it’s not very funny.”
“I’m not joking. He’s being charged as we speak.”
Evelyn took a few shaky steps towards the sofa and sat down. “I’m not sure whether to believe you or not.”
“What do I get out of lying? All he’d have to do it walk on set in a couple of hours then you and Holly would know I made the whole thing up.”
“Look Peter, are you absolutely positive about this?”
“Yes. I was questioned myself. And there will be a statement in a few hours. But we can’t wait for it. Holly has to be told in the easiest possible way for her. That’s why I’m here. She’d never believe it coming from me. She knows…she knows how I feel about her. But you, she’d listen to. And you know how to break bad news to people.”
“What a wonderful thing to be known for,” said Evelyn absently.
Evelyn tapped her fingers briskly on the arm of the couch, deep in thought. Peter watched her impatiently. He opened his mouth several times to say something but then shut it again. They needed to talk to Holly early, but they had time and he was reluctant to press Evelyn in case she misinterpreted it.
Abruptly she turned to him, as if a thought had just struck her. “Exactly what news are we breaking to Holly? That Alan’s been arrested for something he didn’t do? Or that he actually has killed someone?” She must have read the answer in his expression for she nodded slowly. “Oh dear. I see. How can this be possible?”
“It’s…a long story.”
She nodded briskly and stood up. “Well then I’ll pour the drinks while you explain this to me. And then I’ll call Holly.”