Page 79 of The Bookshop of Forbidden Books

“Me?”

“Yes. Rony Ateltow developed what might be called an obsession – with you. When he saw you lurking around outside the prosecutor’s house, he realized you were out of prison. It made him quite anxious to have you so close to where he lived, and he became even more concerned when he discovered the date and time of a certain romantic rendezvous in your bookshop. He paid a visit to Salinas and demanded that he send you back to prison. Salinas refused: he didn’t have anything against you, personally, and times had changed.

“So, Rony decided to take matters into his own hands. He poisoned his neighbour, for not returning the favour Rony had done him five years ago. That’s what we think, anyway. Next day, he called the cops and reported you. An ex-con who’d been loitering around the victim’s house… if this lady here hadn’t given you an alibi,” the inspector gestured towards Anna, “you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“You think?” Anna cut in.

“Rony’s confessed to framing you multiple times, but not the murder. That, he’s still denying. With the murder weapon buried in his back garden, though… now he’s the one who’s out of luck.”

The inspector rose, tugged down the sleeves of his suit jacket to hide his cufflinks, and headed for the door. On the threshold, he turned to admire the dining room one last time and promised Anna he’d come by one night to taste her food. Then, wishing them both good luck, he climbed into his sedan.

Chapter 28

The Art of Cooking Mushrooms

During the eight days that followed, Mitch and Anna didn’t exchange a single word about the inspector’s visit. Mitch busied himself with ordering stock and thinking about events. Anna was getting her restaurant up and running. She’d recruited a commis chef and a waitress, and every evening she trained them in a dining room where the only customer was Mitch – now promoted to official taste-tester.

On the ninth day, while Mitch was washing dishes after the dinner service, he found Anna in the walk-in fridge. She was standing on her tiptoes, reaching for a crate of tomatoes.

“How did you manage it?” he asked, taking the crate from her.

“The gazpacho? Totally botched it.”

“Anna. Come on.”

“Rony?” she asked innocently. “That was thanks to Verner.”

“Verner?”

“Didn’t you wonder why he confessed so suddenly, only to backpedal a minute later?”

“I figured maybe he’s a terrible liar, too.”

“Wrong. He’s an excellent liar, and I can tell you he didn’t need much encouragement. But what really struck me was how ready he was to admit that he’d been lying. Much too ready. Like his whole performance had been planned to steer us in another direction. Their little act, I should say, because Madame Ateltow played her part too, telling us the story about her son under the guise of apologizing for lying to you. She suspected what Rony had done – no, she knew – and if you ask me, she told Verner. No mother could bring herself to turn her own son in, and neither could the man who loves her. At least, not directly. But if someone else could take care of it for them, well… that’d suit everyone just fine.”

“How did Rony even figure out how to make the poison?”

“The art of cooking mushrooms? He must have read it in a book,” replied Anna, with a grin. “Did he really kill Salinas? Maybe, maybe not. But he’s guilty of sending you to prison for five years. Guilty of trying to make sure you stayed there for life. Guilty of poisoning his mother’s life. All that, we know for sure. Justice will take its course. And now, if you don’t mind me changing the subject, I want you desperately.”

* * *

A few days later, Mitch decided that it was time to confront the one thing keeping him from truly freeing himself from his past. And so he made a long detour to a pharmacy in the northern part of the city.

Mathilde had changed. Her features had hardened somewhat. Her face was thinner, the air of indolence gone. When she saw him walk in, she ordered him to wait outside. Her voice was ice-cold. He obeyed, and stood on the pavement for ten long minutes before she finally appeared.

“What are you doing here, Mitch?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what? You look like a man in love. Even worse, you look happy.”

“I am.”

“Then what do you want from me after all this time? Are you here to announce your engagement? I really couldn’t care less.”

“Why didn’t you come to my trial? Or visit me in prison, even once?”

“Why didn’t you visit me?” she retorted. “I spent six months in pre-trial detention.”