“He says the killer threatened him with a gun and made him open the door. He says the killer was a gwedo. e.:
“Ask him to describe the killer,” the Englishman said.
“And ask whether he’d seen him before.”
The Chinese security guard again addressed the hall porter.
The porter responded with another long harangue. When he was done, the Chinese security guard turned to the others.
“He says that he’d never seen him before, and he can’t describe him because all gweilos look the same to him!”
The hotel manager arrived at the door to 606 and called out.
Together, all five of them went through the connecting door and out into the hall.
Marissa was in shock. Tristan stayed by her side, keeping his arms around her. She hadn’t said a word from the moment she’d recognized the dead man as Robert. She had no tears. At the moment, all she felt was a severe chill, as if the air conditioning had been turned up too high.
“The police are on their way,” the manager said nervously. He was an Italian with a heavy accent.
“Where are the bodies?”
The Chinese security man motioned for the manager to follow him and they made a brief tour. When the manager returned, he had trouble speaking.
“The hotel apologizes for this inconvenience,” he said to Marissa and Tristan.
“Especially after the trouble you had only yesterday.”
The Englishman leaned over and whispered in the manager’s ear. The manager’s eyes widened as he listened. He swallowed hard before speaking again.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, speaking directly to Marissa.
“I didn’t know that you knew the victim. My heartfelt condolences.” Then to both Marissa and Tristan he said: “When I spoke to the police a few moments ago, they told me that you are not to be allowed into your rooms. You are not to touch anything. For your comfort,
I’ve taken the liberty of preparing our Marco Polo for the interim. We will provide whatever you need in the way of toiletries and such.”
Fifteen minutes later Marissa and Tristan were escorted to the lavish suite. Marissa sank into an armchair, feeling drained and immobile.
“I can’t believe any of this,” she finally said, speaking for the first time since seeing Robert’s body.
“It’s all too fantastic. Why did he come? It’s the last thing I’d expected. Especially after our last phone conversation.”
“What happened?” Tristan asked, hoping to get her to speak.
He pulled a chair close by her. He reached out and gripped her hand.
Marissa spilled her heart out. Although she’d never made reference to Tristan about her difficulties with Robert, she now admitted that her marriage had seriously deteriorated, especially over the last few months. She told him that Robert had refused to come to Australia after Wendy died. All he wanted her to do was come home. For Robert to come to Hong Kong suddenly was entirely out of character. She buried her face in her hands.
“He wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for me.”
Tristan shook his head.
“Marissa,” he said. It was hard for him to say what was on his mind, but he knew he had to be direct.
“You can’t blame yourself for this tragedy. You’ll be tempted to, but you mustn’t. You’re not to blame.”
“But I feel so guilty,” Marissa said.
“After Wendy, now Robert!
If it weren’t for me they would be alive today.”
“And if it weren’t for me, my wife would be alive today,” Tristan said.
“I know how you feel. I’ve been there. But you didn’t make Robert come here. He came of his own accord. You didn’t even know he would be here.”
“Robert is such a good man. It’s too awful. Maybe it wasn’t him,” she said suddenly.
“Maybe I was wrong.”
Tristan eyed Marissa warily. He remembered how strongly he had wished news of his wife’s death away. Denial was powerful in the face of such horrendous shocks.
“Call the manager,” Marissa said suddenly.
“We have to make sure it was Robert.”
“You sure you want me to do that?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Marissa said, tears welling in her eyes.
Tristan went to the phone by the desk. It took him a few minutes to get the manager on the line. After a brief conversation, he returned to his chair.