“And what happened after you woke up?”
“I look for Frank. He not in bed or downstairs on sofa. I hear crowd outside. I open front door—” she dissolved into sobs that shook her whole body. If she was indeed a murderess she was also a pretty good actress.
I gave her a tissue and let her compose herself.
“And then what happened?”
“I hug Frank and then I call ambulance and police and then this one (she pointed at McCrabban) tells me I cannot touch my husband. I must go inside and let policemen make jokes and take photographs while Frank lies dead on ground!”
I looked at Crabbie.
“I assure you, Sean, no one was making jokes. You know I don’t allow that sort of thing,” Crabbie said defensively.
“So you didn’t see who killed Mr Deauville?”
“I no see.”
“Do you have any idea who would want Mr Deauville dead?”
“No. Frank well liked. Make many good friends.”
“How did you meet Mr Deauville?”
“We meet in Villa Armira.”
“You’ll have to elaborate on that a bit.”
She cocked her head at the word elaborate.
Yavarov explained what I was after.
“Villa Armira, Ivaylovgrad, two years ago. I am tour guide to Roman ruins. Frank is very charming man. Very funny. We become friends. We go out. He come back for another holiday few months later. We write to one another. He come back again and this time he propose to me. We get married and we ask to move to UK. Permission granted.”
“It says in our file that Francis Deauville was forty-three, you’re what, twenty-five? Bit of an age gap, no?”
Crabbie shot me a you-can-talk-Sean look from under his eyebrows.
“Age is of no matter when people in love,” Elena said dismissively.
“Very true, Mrs Deauville, very true. Now, maybe I’m wrong but I thought it was quite difficult to move from an Eastern European country to the west?”
Elena scoffed. “Nothing difficult if you have money.”
“And Mr Deauville had money?”
“Frank talk to officials, get permits. No problem.”
“And you got married where?”
“In London. Frank’s mother come for wedding. Frank has mother in home in Frinton-on-Sea. You know Frinton-on-Sea?”
“No. I’m afraid not.”
“You didn’t want to live there, in England?” Crabbie asked.
“Frank have house in Bangor that he inherit from uncle. I come see, I like. It remind me of Black Sea.”
“I’ve never heard that comparison before. House in Bangor, eh? The address?”
“4 Cold Harbour Road. Nothing there now. House burn in fire.”
“A fire?”
“House burn in fire, we have insurance claim in.”
I gave Lawson a look. “Go check out this fire for me, will ya?”
He nodded and went off.
“So, Mrs Deauville, did Mr Deauville have any enemies?”
“Frank have no enemies. Frank makes friends everywhere he go, no enemies.”
“Didn’t the North Down UVF tell him to leave Bangor last year or they would kill him? Was that what the fire was all about?”
“Frank asked to leave. He leave. No hassle. We move to Carrickfergus, we make friends here. No hassle. Frank very cooperative man. Make friends everywhere. Two months in Carrick no problems. Fire happen after we leave. Whole house burn. We have insurance claim in.”
“What did Mr Deauville do for a living here?”
“Like I say, he unemployed.”
“Where did he get the money to pay off all these Eastern European officials?”
“He have inheritance. I tell you. Uncle who die.”
“We can check that.”
“Check it. Uncle die, maybe Auntie die. I give you solicitor name.”
“We’ll take those details from you later. How much was this inheritance?”
“I not sure.”
“Look, let’s not beat about the bush, Frank was a drug dealer, wasn’t he?” I asked.
“He unemployed,” Elena insisted.
“You never saw him with any drugs?”
“No drugs. He unemployed.”
“So you had no trouble after you moved to Carrick?”
“No trouble.”
“He paid the protection money in Carrick?”
“I do not know this ‘protection money’. But we have no trouble before we move or after we move.”
Lawson came back in with details of the fire in Bangor. Arson, but whether by the Deauvilles or the Bangor paramilitaries it was impossible to say. Insurance investigators could sort that one out.
“How many times have you been back to Bulgaria since you got married?” I asked.
Elena shrugged.
“It’s very easy to check with the passport authorities.”
“I go back maybe six times to see my mother and father.”
“You’ve been back to Bulgaria six times in the last year!”
“Maybe seven. Eight? Who knows?”
“What were you doing on all these trips to Bulgaria?”
“I visit my mother and father and sisters in Sofia.”
“And did you bring anything back on these trips from Bulgaria?”
She looked puzzled. “What you mean? I bring Bulgar vodka. Is good. Legal to bring three litres.”
“Did you ever bring back anything gaffer-taped to your body?”
“What you mean?”