“Why are you so convinced he was lying?” Sam presses.
“Hmm.” Amy looks up at the ceiling, concentrating. “Because he just didn’t seem that smart. I felt like he was maybe starting with a truth and then lies just built all around it.”
“How so?” Sam asks.
“For example,” Amy says, “I teach a literature module and when I mentioned that fact about myself, he said he’d read everythingCharles Dickens ever wrote. Like, he always needed to be a step beyond me. Then, when I tried to talk to him aboutOliver Twist, it was clear to me he’d maybe seen the movie or stage show, but definitely hadn’t read the book.”
“How can you know?” Chloe asks. “Surely the story is the same?”
“Not at all,” Amy says. “Oliver Twistis a tragic book. It’s crammed full of murder, infanticide, child abuse, domestic violence, animal cruelty. It’s really, truly heartbreaking.”
“But when I saw it in the West End—” Chloe begins.
“Exactly!” Amy almost yells with enthusiasm for the topic. “You saw little kids tap-dancing, right? And singing ‘Food, Glorious Food!’ Not in the book. The book is something to cry over, not sing about. It really quite annoys me thatOliveris so glamorized.”
“So Denver pretended to be smarter than he really is. Anything more?”
“We left the rides and walked back toward Venice,” Amy continues. “It was dark by now and I was ready for the date to end. So I told him honestly. I thanked him for his time and wished him well.”
“Ouch,” Chloe says. “How did he react?”
“He thought I was joking,” Amy says. “He was so far up in his own ego, he thought I was flirting. Then—and I’ll never forget this—he started unbuttoning his shirt.”
“What did you do?” Chloe says.
“I said ‘Na-ah.Don’t you get that belly out!’” Amy says, and Chloe suppresses a smile. Sam gestures for Amy to go on. “He just kept on stripping. Right there on the beach. He said he loved skinny-dipping. And I told him that I was leaving now, that no man should behave as he was doing and asked him not to contact me again.”
“Good for you,” Sam says, genuinely impressed. She knew so many women don’t voice their rejection for fear of triggering a badreaction. Treading on eggshells, just like her mother did, doesn’t keep people safe for long.
Amy shrugs. “He blew up. Told me I had no idea who he was or what he was capable of.”
“Whoa,” Chloe says.
“Mm-hmm,” confirms Amy, nodding. “I ended it right there. I didn’t even make another excuse, just walked away. I went and met some girlfriends and we laughed about it.”
“And next thing you know, you’re a victim inHow to Get Away with Murder?” Sam asks.
“Yes, ma’am,” Amy replies. “It reads like some kind of revenge porn to me.”
“Revenge porn…” Sam ponders the idea. “That’s exactly what makes it the strangest chapter in the book by far, and you’ve just explained why. It’s violent sexual fantasy.”
“Guys don’t take rejection well,” Chloe states. “Not that I’d really know.” Amy smiles.
“Amy, can you confirm if this is the man you met?” Sam asks, showing the woman a picture of Andrei Albescu on her phone. Amy takes her time, staring closely and zooming in.
“Well, I’m one hundred percent sure that he isnotDenver,” Amy says. “Denver had blue eyes and a softer jawline. He had a milky complexion and mousy-blond hair—he wasn’t dark-haired and heavy-browed like this guy. Denver was completely average-looking.”
“And around five foot nine, you say? Not a tall man?” Sam continues.
“That’s correct.”
Sam is keen to draw the interview to a close so she can think through the repercussions of yet another chunk of the book proving to be a lie. “I’ll need you to sit with our sketch artist and our technical expert,” she says, to wrap things up, “so they can prepare an image and information for public circulation—”
“Wait a second, ma’am,” Amy says, “I haven’t told you the juicy bit yet.”
“There’s more?” Chloe asks.
“It’s in another chapter of the book. The chapter about the old lady?”
