The Labyrinth of Drowning by Alex Palmer Page B

exit, except to another room downstairs which also had no way out. She returned to the hallway.
    ‘It’s very clean for a room you never use,’ she said to Marie. ‘Have you cleaned it recently? It smells of air freshener.’
    ‘I like things clean.’
    Grace glanced at Borghini. He was standing back a little, watching; a slight nod said she should go on.
    ‘You like things clean?’ she said. ‘Is this a maid’s room? A place for someone who cooks and cleans for you?’
    ‘I do my own cooking. I like to cook.’
    ‘Then who does your cleaning? Whoever slept in there?’
    ‘No one slept in there.’
    ‘Then who cleaned it last and when? It must have been recently. You can smell the air freshener. Why do you need to clean and put air freshener into a room no one uses?’
    ‘I don’t know. I…’ Marie stopped, not knowing what to say.
    Another of Borghini’s people appeared in the hallway. ‘Something else you need to see,’ she said to him quietly.
    In the main bedroom, an ornate Chinese cabinet stood open on the dressing table. Beside it was a shiny, silver-edged mirror, a razor blade with a silver edge matching the mirror’s and a thin silver straw, similarly decorated. The silverwork was delicately, intricately made.
    ‘We found those in the cabinet,’ the officer said.
    ‘Are these yours?’ Borghini asked Marie.
    ‘No. I don’t know what they are.’
    ‘If they’re not yours, can you tell me how they might have got here?’
    She shook her head dumbly. She had tears in her eyes.
    ‘Perhaps someone put them there. A visitor who didn’t like me. I don’t know.’
    ‘We found this as well,’ one of the other plain-clothes officers said. He was holding a black silk pouch peeled open to reveal several broken lumps of cocaine in a plastic bag. It looked like a stash kept for personal use.
    Grace glanced around the room once more. On the dressing table were vases of white roses mixed with smaller flowers, dark blue in colour. A silk and lace negligee lay thrown over a chair, waiting for someone to slip it on. The negligee was for two to enjoy; the cocaine seemed to be only for one. And not Marie.
    ‘Marie, why don’t you take a seat back out in the kitchen?’ Borghini said. ‘We’ll keep looking through here and then we’ll need to ask you some more questions. I’m afraid we’ll be keeping you for a while yet. Maybe you’d like to have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting. We’ll get to you as soon as we can.’
    ‘Can I call someone? I want to call someone.’
    ‘Who do you want to call?’
    ‘In these circumstances, who do you think?’ Kidd said. It was the first time he’d spoken. ‘Your family. A lawyer.’
    ‘I’ll call my brother,’ Marie said. ‘Can I do that?’
    Grace wasn’t certain who she was asking.
    ‘You can do that if you want to,’ Borghini told her. ‘But I’m going to ask you not to leave the premises. If you go and sit down now and make your call, we’ll keep searching in here. I’ll send someone to look after you.’
    Marie turned to leave the room. She bumped against the uniformed policewoman as if she hadn’t seen her, then glanced around confused. She saw Kidd and looked away. The policewoman guided her out.
    ‘I think that might be it for me tonight,’ Grace said. ‘This isn’t my field.’
    ‘No problem.’ Borghini dredged up a smile, presumably pleased to have her out from under his feet. ‘Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow? I’ll let you know how we finished up here and what we’re going to do next.’
    ‘I’ll do that, thanks.’
    Passing the kitchen, she saw Marie sitting at the table, crying while she tried to call a number on her phone. The policewoman sat with her, watching. Kidd, following Grace, went back to his place leaning against the bench. Grace guessed he wanted to listen to whatever Marie Li was going to say on the phone. Ignoring Clive’s instructions to watch him, she walked out of the flat, feeling his eyes