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Ah Kim’s had just put up their prices two cents a napkin.
    Houk said, ‘It seems like she poured petrol over herself. Kind of a ritual suicide. One of the cooks from McDonald’s managed to reach her with a fire-extinguisher, but it was too late.’
    â€˜She killed herself?’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Mr Denman, it sure looks that way.’
    â€˜I don’t even know what she was doing there,’ Lloyd protested. ‘I mean—what in God’s name was she doing there? She wasn’t depressed, she wasn’t upset.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Mr Denman, we really don’t know. We don’t even know how she got there. There were no private vehicles anywhere in the vicinity left unaccounted for, and nobody saw a woman riding a bus with a petrol can.’
    Lloyd dragged out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. ‘God, what a waste. God, what a terrible waste. I can’t tell you how . . .’ he stopped, his throat was too tight, and his mouth didn’t seem to work. She had killed herself, burned herself to death, and she hadn’t even tried to tell him what was wrong. That was what hurt. She hadn’t even asked him for help.
    Sergent Houk waited for a long moment. Two of Lloyd’s waitresses had arrived, and Lloyd could see them anxiously talking to Waldo, and glancing out at the balcony now and again. He gave them a hesitant wave, but they probably didn’t understand what he was doing, or else they were too upset, because they didn’t wave back.
    Sergeant Houk glanced around at them, and then carefully took back the wallet and the charm bracelet. ‘You’ll have these back as soon as possible, Mr Denman. Meanwhile there’s one thing I’m going to have to ask you to do. It won’t be easy, but we do need somebody to come downtown to the mortuary tomorrow morning to identify Ms Williams’ remains.’
    Remains, thought Lloyd. What a forlorn, contradictory word. When your soul has left your body, nothing remains. Only memories, only a scattering of objects. Clothes, photographs, a voice that speaks over and over again on video-recordings, an endlessly repeated smile.
    â€˜We’ll have to ask you a few more questions,’ Sergeant Houk told him. ‘We’re going to have to piece together everything that happened.’
    Lloyd nodded. ‘All right, I understand.’
    Detective Gable laid his hand consolingly on Lloyd’s shoulder. ‘You okay, sir? You want a ride home or anything?’
    â€˜No . . . no thanks,’ Lloyd replied. ‘I have a restaurant to run.’
    The two policemen left him out on the balcony, and went to have a word with Waldo. Essentially, it was ‘keep an eye on him, he’s already in shock’. Then they left. Lloyd sat alone for a long time, unaware that the restaurant wasn’t filling up, that no customers were coming in. Waldo had put a hastily-chalked sign outside saying Closed: Family Bereavement and Suzie was calling up all the customers who had made reservations, cancelling them all apologetically, and offering them free Fish Depot cocktails the next time they came.
    Lloyd stood up, and leaned against the rail of the balcony. The ocean lay below him like molten solder, with a gradually wrinkling skin. The seagulls turned and cried. Lloyd wondered if one of them were already Celia, circling around La Jolla Cove, looking for him.
    Waldo came out and stood a little way behind him. ‘You all right, Mr Denman?’ he asked, at length. ‘You want a drink, maybe?’
    Lloyd shook his head. ‘No thanks.’
    â€˜You want that I should drive you home?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I don’t feel real. I feel like I’m here, but at the same time I’m not here at all. Can you understand that?’
    Waldo came up and clasped Lloyd’s shoulder. ‘It’s a beautiful evening, Mr Denman. The cove is beautiful. Do you know what they say in