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Chapter 2: The Artists Gather at the Maple Bar

The two women left the restaurant after almost three hours of rambling conversation and walked the block and a half to the Maple Bar. Nikola didn't know what to expect from an American artists' hangout, but she was disappointed when it looked like a regular neighborhood bar from the outside. When they stepped inside, the noise level startled her. Voices from numerous animated discussions bounced off the wooden walls and floor, augmenting each other until the sound felt like a physical force. Music played somewhere in the background, but it was hardly audible beneath the conversation noise. The bar was populated with an odd-looking group of people: predominantly male and very casually dressed. Loud esoteric arguments and color splotched clothes marked the clientele as an artistic group.

As soon as they entered, Eddie directed them to a table towards the back, "I see Donna and Brian over there. Come on, let's join them."

Nikola followed Eddie as she wove her way through the main section of the bar. Eddie pointed out a booth in which a young couple sat. They sat on the same bench and he had his arm around her. From Nikola's position across the room, they looked very intimate, and very young.

"They're not nearly as close as they look," Eddie told Nikola as they approached the booth, "They're old friends, and Brian's had a crush on Donna for years. He's using this opportunity to muscle in on her. Ever since Marty's death, she's been too dazed to do anything, but I think she likes the comfort."

Eddie approached the booth and slid to the far end of the bench across from Brian. Nikola got in beside her. When Nikola was sitting across from the couple, she could tell that they weren't quite as young as she had previously thought, in their mid-to-late twenties. Donna was a small, dark-haired woman with very pretty, almost child-like features. She had full lips, an upturned nose, and very long, dark eyelashes that hid her downcast eyes. She did not look up often, only when prompted by a point in the discussion. Brian was a tall, lanky fellow with long, wild, light-brown hair that frequently hung over his face. His attention was always focused on Donna, it didn't take Nikola long to recognize his infatuation, even without Eddie's remark.

Eddie greeted them and introduced Nikola. They spoke briefly about the gallery and Nikola's upcoming reception, until they were interrupted by Donna, who was starting to get upset.

"Nothing against you, Nikola, I'm sure you deserve this exhibition," Donna mumbled through her tears, "but this was supposed to be Marty's exhibition. He'd been waiting over two years for it. He should've been celebrating now."

Nikola looked across the table at Donna's grief-stricken face and empathized deeply. She reached across the table, touched Donna's clutched hands gently, and said, "I know how you feel, I lost a lover unexpectedly myself some years ago. It was one of the most difficult periods of my life."

"But this is worse than just losing him. This wasn't just some freak accident or some horrible disease - the man was murdered - I'm sure of it. And I feel that it's my duty to avenge his death. But I don't know what to do and nobody will believe me!"

Nikola could sense Eddie and Brian tuning out of the conversation as soon as Donna started talking about murder. Current events and other seemingly callous comments from the other side of the table surprised Nikola, until she realized that Brian and Eddie must have heard this story before, perhaps many times. However, Nikola hadn't, and she was curious about it. She couldn't help but wonder if Donna had any grounds for her conviction.

"Why do you think it's murder?" Nikola asked.

"Because he wouldn't do that. No way. I'm sure of it."

"How did it happen?"

"I was away for the weekend at my Mom's in Pennsylvania. I left Friday night and came back Sunday afternoon. That's when I found him. The first thing I noticed was that the door was unlocked. That kind of worried me, but sometimes Marty used to forget to lock it behind him. When I got in, I saw the windows wide open and the rain coming in." Donna looked down and paused, fighting to get out the rest of the story.

"I went over to shut the windows, and saw Marty's body on the floor, leaning against the couch. It was dark... At first I figured he was asleep... But when I reached down to touch him, he was icy cold. I touched him again and he just fell over. That was when I lost it. Brian, he lives across the hall, came running in. He looked at the body, kneeled down... And then told me he was dead. He called the police." Donna paused again to wipe her eyes and compose herself.

"Once I got over the shock, I looked closer at where Marty was lying and I noticed the syringe and other drug paraphernalia. I lived with Marty for five years and I never saw anything like that before. I'm sure it wasn't his. He would never do heroin. I know him, he hated the stuff. A friend of his died of an overdose when he was a kid, and whenever it came up, he spoke out strongly against it. I told the police that but they weren't interested. He was an artist, he had a possession arrest for marijuana, so they just stamped him as an addict and wrote it off to accidental overdose. But I know that's not the case. Somebody killed him."

"Was there any evidence that anyone other than Marty had been in the apartment over the weekend?"

"None that I could find."

"Was Marty having any disputes with anyone, any enemies that you know of?"

"That's just the thing. Marty didn't have enemies. I don't know who... Everybody liked him. He basically painted and minded his own business. I guess I can't blame the police for not believing me, I don't have any proof of anything, but I know Marty. For God's sake, I lived with the man for over five years - I know what he would and wouldn't do - and he definitely wouldn't do that."

"Did he mention seeing anything unusual lately?"

"You mean, like did he witness a crime?"

"Exactly."

"I thought of that too, and I've been wracking my brain, trying to remember everything he said to me during the last few weeks before his death, but there's really nothing like that. If he saw anything, he never told me about it."
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what to tell you. I know how hard it is to deal with your lover's death without worrying about whether or not he was murdered - and it's not easy. But I'm sure Marty would want you to get over him and get on with your life. Since you don't have any evidence, maybe you should try and forget how he died and concentrate on getting over his death."

"You don't believe me either, do you?"

"That's not true. I do believe you. I definitely believe that you can know a person well enough to know what he will and will not do, but without other clues you can't do anything about it. You'll just make yourself more and more frustrated. There's nothing you can do for Marty anymore - he's gone. You have to take care of yourself. I'm sure that's what he would have wanted."

 "I suppose you're right, but it seems so unfair to let his murder go unpunished. It's just not right."

"There's nothing else you can do."

"I know."

Donna excused herself and headed for the Ladies room. As Nikola watched Donna walk away, she wished that she could think of a way to help her. Eddie leaned over to Nikola and said, "You don't really believe her murder theory, do you?"

"It does sound a bit far-fetched, but anything is possible. She certainly believes it."

"Oh, I know that. She's got to get over it or she'll drive herself crazy."

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