“Not really,” said Frances. “Not that I know.”
“How come she was sleeping with you and engaged to Tad at the same time?” Mattheus asked again, returning to the same point, like a dog chewing on a bone. “What kind of guy sleeps with someone else’s fiancée?”
“I knew Tiffany long before she took up with Tad,” Frances said. “She and I always had a thing for each other, even though we just stayed friends. But then, all of a sudden, when she started dating him, everything turned around. She was nervous, lonely, I saw it in her eyes. I asked her about it one night at a party when he was out of town. One thing led to another. Jesus, neither of us had any idea how incredible it would be between us. We really fell in love.”
“Why didn’t she break up with Tad, then?” asked Mattheus, irritated.
“She said she was going to break it up, but not just yet.”
“And that didn’t bother you?”
“How could it? He was no match for what was going on between us.”
“You were cheating on him behind his back,” said Mattheus, his jaw tightly set.
“Tad got what he needed from the relationship,” Frances defended himself. “He wasn’t a victim of anything.”
“No, she was the victim,” Mattheus dug in.
“Oh God,” Frances started trembling. “I miss her, I really do.”
“Look, I’m going to have to call this into the police,” Mattheus said quickly.
France’s eyes narrowed. “You have nothing better to do than nail a guy who lost someone he really loved? Go to hell.”
The pain in his voice pierced through Cindy.
“I’m not nailing anyone,” said Mattheus. “It’s my duty to call the police and let them decide what to do.”
“You’re a rotten freak,” Frances mumbled, “a coward.”
“Take it easy,” Cindy went over to him.
He pushed her away, “You get the hell away from me, too. The two of you stink.”
*
Frances sat on the couch glumly, not saying a word then, just waiting for the cops. When the doorbell rang, he got up like a robot and opened the door.
Tomas and Jean Pierre were standing outside.
“Come in,” said Frances.
They nodded to him and entered.
Mattheus got up and went over to them.
“Thanks for the tip,” Tomas said, appreciatively to Mattheus.
Mattheus nodded grimly.
“Okay,” said Tomas to Frances, “sit down a minute. We have a few questions to ask.”
As if he were a doomed man, Frances sat down on the edge of the couch, almost listless by now.
“I loved her,” Frances said slowly.
“First things first,” said Tomas. “Where were you the afternoon, Tiffany was murdered?”
“I was here at home, like I usually am.”
Tomas looked at him more closely. “Doing drugs?”
“Sometimes,” said Frances.
“We can take him in for that,” said Jeanne Pierre who stood stiffly behind him.
“Did you do some today?” asked Tomas.
“A little while ago.”
It frightened Cindy to see Frances so undefended. He seemed to be losing the will to fight.
“So, you and Tiffany were an item?” said Tomas fitfully then.
“Yes, we were,” said Frances.
“Even though she was engaged to someone else?”
“That’s right,” Frances continued, determined to say it as it was.
Cindy felt a strange admiration for him, mixed with fear. He seemed like a lamb about to be led to the slaughter.
“Was there anyone who saw you at home at the time Tiffany was killed?” Tomas continued questioning.
“No, there was not,” said Frances
“Did you tell anyone you were going to be at home during that day?”
“No, I didn’t,” Frances replied.
“There was no friend, no person you mentioned it to?”
“No one,” said Frances.
“That’s odd for the holiday season, isn’t it?” Tomas’s eyes narrowed. “Usually everyone’s with someone, at a party, on a boat, in town?”
“I didn’t mention it to anyone,” said Frances.
“Is something else wrong in your life?” Tomas asked, his voice becoming more subdued.
“Nothing else was wrong,” said Frances, as long as Tiffany was around.” His eyes were glassy and there was a sense of doom growing around him.
Tomas looked at Jeanne Pierre who nodded at him.
“Frances,” said Tomas, “I am arresting you now on the suspicion of murder.”
Frances stood opposite him and stared into his eyes.
“Tiffany was pregnant with my baby,” Frances muttered.
“What’s that?” said Jeanne Pierre.
“It was my baby. It wasn’t his,” Frances added sorrowfully. “As soon as the tests are complete, the medical examiner will tell you who the real father was.”
Tomas looked confused for a moment, then he leaned over and placed France’s wrists behind his back in handcuffs.
“You’ll come with us and tell us more,” Tomas said, as he led Frances in cuffs to the front door.
“I didn’t hear that she was pregnant,” Jean Pierre remarked to Mattheus as they walked out.