3.

Ariadne had no close family members. The rep from the embassy asked her over and over for next of kin. Her contacts. All she could give was Cobb's number, nod to Eames who never left her side during questioning. Tell the rep about Arthur.

"How long have you been seeing the young man?" The Paris detective asked.

The rep nodded.

"About a month now. I guess." She answered.

"Any fights? Did he ever hit you, or upset you?" The detective asked.

"No." Ariadne breathed. Shocked. She could never imagine Arthur hurting her.

"No of course not." She said again.

She felt Eames take her hand.

"You said he was coming over to your apartment for his things. He left his things at your apartment." The detective said showing her police photo of her apartment.

A catch all bowl where she had stashed his cuff links for safe keeping. His shaving kit next to her bathroom sink.

"You people were in my home?" She asked. Horrified.

"When was the last time you spoke with Arthur?" The Detective asked. Ignoring the question.

"Last night, before I went to bed."

"I thought you said he came by this morning?" The Detective asked.

"No, I did not say that. I said he told me he might come over to my place for his things. That he didn't want to wake me up. That it would be too early." She said not falling for the traps the Detective was setting.

Her rep said nothing.

"He... he had an early flight." She blubbered. Her hands going to her face. The rattling on her handcuffs piercing the air.

"Did he come by this morning?" The Detective asked.

She shook her head.

"You said you don't remember anything from the time you went to bed, until you were found by police." The Detective told her.

She nodded.

"I need your cooperation." The Detective sighed. "The blood on your clothing came back as male. Type O positive. There was enough blood on you to suggest that who ever was bleeding on you did not survive the attack. Right now, our people are searching for him. It's not that hard, Madam, all we have to do is follow the blood trail and your bloody footprints. Now, if you can tell us it was self defense... that this Arthur, when we find him dead, was hurting you..." The Detective waited for her to confess everything.

"You think the blood belonged... it belong to Arthur?" She asked.

The horror of it hit her finally. It had been a nagging fear in the back of her mind.

Maybe Arthur had come to pick up his things. Giver her one last kiss goodbye. She had answered the door sleepwalking. Stabbed him. Killed him. Left him only God only knows where.

"That makes sense." Eames laughed.

The Detective turned a look at the Forger. A dirty look. Eames only chuckled.

"She's what? 5'1? About 90lbs soaking wet?" He pointed out the obvious. "You really think she could hurt an almost 6 foot man who was ex-military? Clever!"

Eames seemed to have broken a spell the Detective cast over the Architect. The Forger turned to her.

"Don't say another word. Put your head down and ignore them. I'm calling you a lawyer." He told her. Eames cast a dirty look at her Embassy rep and left to make some phone calls.

She did as the Forger said. Put her head down and blocked out the Detective asking about Arthur. Where she left his body. What they fought about. The Detective telling her if it was self defense, she might not be charged.

~ Her mind went to a safe place. A place with Arthur.

"What is going on with these bruises?" The Point Man had asked. His hand lightly tracing the deep wash of dark stains on her arms and legs.
"Is someone hurting you?" He asked. His face contorted in a rage.

"No!" She said. As if that assumption was ridiculous.

"No, I'm just clumsy." She lied. She had no idea where she was getting them. "I was walking down the stairs and slipped. It was really embarrassing, a lot of people saw it." She looked up at him, wanting him to feel sorry for her.

He took the bait.

"Oh, I'm sorry." he said wrapping his arms around her. Kissing her. His lips on her cheek and neck. She was laughing.

"I have to get dressed, Arthur." She giggled. "We have to go out tonight."

"Let's stay in bed, we can order in." He offered not letting her go

"No!" She scolded him sharply. He promptly let her go. "We have spent all weekend in bed. We need to put clothes on. We need to go out."

"You right." He conceded. A devilish smile on his face.

"Good, now I'm going to take a shower." She said. Enjoying the feel of bossing him around. She retreated to her little bathroom as he stayed in her bedroom.

"Arthur? Are you coming?" She asked looking back at him. Grinning an evil grin. Realizing what she meant, he quickly joined her in her washing.

~ It had been such a happy memory. She could never hurt him. How could she? Even if she was sleepwalking. Yet, she remembered nothing about what had happened. The evidence that police were finding. All of it was saying Arthur was hurt, dead.

He wasn't answering his phone. Maybe the blood on her clothes was his. Maybe she did kill him.

~ A door opened. A police man handed the Detective a folder.

"Alright." The Detective said looking over the information. "They found the body. In the ally behind your building. A white male, in his late 20s early 30s. No ID. Dressed in a dark blue suit."

Ariadne's head snapped up.

"No." She said. Shaking her head.

"He was stabbed." The Detective went on. "A large kitchen knife."

"No." She cried.
"We did a quickie on the knife, your finger prints were on it. Your bloody footprints were all over the scene." he accused.

"No!" She screamed.