(SASHA)
"So you're saying you know nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing—" Burgess asks.
"Detective," I say, with exaggerated politeness, "as you're well aware yourself, I was unconscious for most of the proceedings."
Burgess is sitting very close to me. Each question she's asked has been rapid-fire, demanding, pressing. And I've given her nothing.
She taps out a staccato beat on my nightstand with her fingernail. "I'll pull your husband in for questioning."
"You can try. But he'll have our lawyer with him. I could have Luciano here myself, if I said the word. If that's what you really want?"
I'm enjoying the back-and-forth enough that I'm disappointed when she sighs, leans in even closer, and gets down to business.
"I've had a long talk with Giovanni Matteo."
"I see."
"I found his story…unconvincing."