Murder in Avignon by Susan Kiernan-Lewis

Author:Susan Kiernan-Lewis [Kiernan-Lewis, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: San Marco Press

32

Maggie shifted her phone to her other ear and reached over to snap on the bedroom lamp.

“How terrible?” Maggie asked.

“The worst. Viv told me she and Clive literally ended their friendship over it.”

“Slow down and tell me from the start. How could they have ended their friendship? She was at his dinner the night she died.”

“I don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing. I watched them and they hardly said a word to each other all night.”

“Tell me about the fight.”

“I only heard Vivienne’s side of things.”

“Except you did talk to Clive about it. Or else how could he have begged you not to tell me about it?”

“That’s true. After Viv called me—in tears—I rang Clive straight away and demanded he call her and apologize.”

“Could you please go back to the beginning?” Maggie said in frustration. “What was the fight about?”

“The play, of course.”

Maggie’s mind raced back to a few things that Vivienne had said that night at Clive’s. Everyone was so excited about the play and anticipating great things from the next day’s reviews.

Everybody but Vivienne.

“She didn’t believe in Clive’s interpretation?” Maggie said.

“You could say that. She didn’t want to do the play.”

Maggie felt a fluttery sensation in her stomach. “And she told this to Clive?”

“He was probably going on and on about how pleased he was with his vision of the play and how it was going to be the making of Viv’s career and she just couldn’t hear another word.”

“So she told him she didn’t believe in it and they fought?”

“To hear Vivienne tell it, they nearly came to blows.”

“I find that hard to believe about either of them.”

“I know, right? Viv said Clive told her she should be grateful, that she was basically washed up and lucky to get this chance.”

“I don’t believe he said that,” Maggie said.

How can I say that? I don’t really know him.

“I’m just telling you what she told me. And then she told him he was a dramaturg wanna-be and he should go back to teaching kiddies in Surrey.”

There is no way those words came out of Vivienne Dubois’ mouth.

“Okay, Suzette, thanks,” Maggie said, reaching for the bedroom lamp again. “I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”

“What do I tell the police if they ask me about it?”

“I can absolutely guarantee you that they won’t,” Maggie said tiredly. “Goodnight, Suzette.”

Maggie lay in the dark for a moment trying to process why Suzette would call her with her description of Clive’s argument with Vivienne. Why did she do that?

Even if the fight was as bad as Suzette said, it still didn’t take away the fact that Vivienne was at Clive’s dinner party after the play the next night.

Maggie racked her memory to try to remember how much contact Clive and Vivienne had the night of the party.

The only thing she vaguely remembered was that Clive hadn’t kissed Vivienne goodbye.

And that stuck out in her memory because for friends in France, that was definitely odd.

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