Murder in the Latin Quarter (10 page)

“Because you shouldn't be alone,” Victor said as his eyes went to Maggie. She realized that Delphine must have told Victor that she wasn't staying tonight.

“I will be fine,” Delphine said.

Amelie came to the doorway of the kitchen and took off her apron. For a moment Maggie thought the woman would throw it down. Her face was tense and somber.
She's such an unpleasant woman
, Maggie thought.
And she clearly hates her job. What's the story behind that?

Suddenly voices were raised in the kitchen.

“Get out of my way, you morons!” a woman shrieked.

Maggie started to stand but Victor put a hand out stopping her.

“It's that woman again,” he said.

“Oh, no!” Delphine said. “How did she get in?”

Noel and Victor both stood up.

“This is unbelievable!” Noel said.

The elderly man who Maggie had been talking to earlier was just about to leave, with his coat over his arm. He came over to Noel and Victor. “Do you need help?” he asked.

“What's going on?” Maggie asked Delphine.

A heavyset woman pushed past Amelie and plunged into the living room.

“I see how you live! On my father's money! Enjoying your party, Mother?” The forty something woman had short hair that seemed to emphasize her long blunt jaw. Her face was twisted into a sneer as she stepped closer to confront Delphine.

“Get out, you wretched creature!” Delphine said. “Noel, call the police.”

“No need, Delphine,” Victor said. “We can handle this.”

“Don't you touch me!” the woman shrieked, putting her fists up as Victor and the man with the overcoat advanced on her. “She is not going to live like nothing happened! I promised my father!”

“You are reprehensible, Michelle!” Noel called to her. “To spoil her birthday party like this. No wonder your father disowned you!”

“Noel, no,” Delphine said. Her face was white and pinched with fatigue. “You'll just make it worse.”

Noel joined Victor and the other man but before they could reach her, Michelle bolted for the door.

She wrenched it open and ran down the stairs screaming, “I'll make you pay! I'll make you all pay!”

M
aggie awoke early
the next morning. Grace's apartment was noisier than Delphine's—not just because of Zouzou and Mila who were both awake—but the booming clamor of the morning garbage trucks, the constantly honking taxis that lined the Quay St-Michel, and the babble of the Latin Quarter shopkeepers in the alleyway below Grace's apartment building.

Grace had spent the night at André's and when Maggie checked her phone, she saw that her two <
Are you okay
?> texts had been delivered but there was no response. She saw a text from Laurent that simply read She smiled and swung her legs out of bed. The man just couldn't help being mysterious. Even texting her to see how things were ended up as an exercise in code deciphering.

Beatrice rapped on her bedroom door and then stuck her head in. “
Bonjour
, Madame Dernier!” She was carrying Mila on her hip. The baby had a piece of bread with jam in her fist with most of the jam on her face. “A walk in the park today, yes?”

Maggie hopped up and gave Mila a quick kiss. “Sounds great. Any idea when Grace will be back?”

“She did not say,” Beatrice said, giving Mila a kiss too. “We are finishing our breakfast.”

The sound of boxes falling came from the kitchen.

“Uh-oh!” Beatrice said. “
Petite
Zouzou is ready for her cereal.” She turned and rushed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Maggie sat on the edge of her bed, holding her cellphone in her hand. She'd gotten in late last night and—at Laurent's nagging and Victor's insistence—had taken a taxi back to Grace's. A shadow of doubt passed over her. She had never seen Grace as she was last night. And it wasn't just the alcohol or being in love or whatever it was. There was something fundamentally
off
about her. And Maggie couldn't figure out what direction it was coming from.

Should I call Windsor? Would Grace consider that the ultimate betrayal if I did?

As soon as the thought entered her head, she remembered André's kiss and she ran a hand over her face.

Would André tell Grace about that?
It didn't seem likely
.
Should Maggie? Would Grace believe her when she said she'd done nothing to prompt it?
Had
she done nothing? Should she tell Grace that her boyfriend was a douche?

She stood up and went to look out her bedroom window. The spires of Notre Dame were clearly visible. It was early on a Saturday morning but already she could see the tourists lining up to get inside.

She was pretty sure Grace wouldn't believer her. That her new love had made a pass at her best friend? No, she wouldn't believe it and she'd be confused and furious with Maggie for suggesting it.

Maggie's phone vibrated. It was Laurent.

“You're up early,” she said.

“I am a farmer,” Laurent said. “But I could say the same for you.”

“Kids don't let you sleep past six. Or aren't you discovering that with Jemmy?”

Laurent snorted. “Monsieur Jemmy is washed and fed and we are on our way to the market in Aix.”

Maggie glanced at the wristwatch on her bedside table. “Wow. Really? Maybe you should take over the kids full time, Laurent. I'm just out of bed and someone else is feeding Mila.”

“How was the party last night?”

“Oh, Laurent! Your uncle Noel showed up. You'd like him. He says he remembers you as a boy. And Delphine's stepdaughter made an appearance towards the end.”

“
Oui
?”

“She tried to make a scene but Noel and your aunt's boyfriend tossed her out.”

“My aunt has a boyfriend?”

“Well, as much as you can have at ninety. And, oh, Laurent, Grace came drunk.”

“
Vraiment
?”

“Yes,
vraiment
. I couldn't believe it.” A tingle of guilt washed over her. If she was going to mention the kiss to Laurent, now would be the time.

“Jemmy, put that down,” Laurent said. “Wait in the car for me.”

“I need to let you go,” Maggie said, feeling the tingle grow more pronounced. “Call me later?”

“
Oui. Je t'aime
, Maggie.”

“
Je t'aime
, you too, Laurent.”

D
elphine took
her time bathing and dressing. It was Amelie's morning off and Maggie and the baby wouldn't be back for hours. There was no reason to hurry.

The caterers had cleaned the kitchen and straightened the living room before leaving last night. She'd been tempted to allow Victor to spend the night—Noel already had a hotel room—but in the end was glad to close the door on all the noise and the voices.

It had been a lovely evening, even with Michelle's interruption of it. But it had been a relief to be alone again.

That is Maggie's doing
, Delphine realized with a surprise.
Before she came into my life, I could not spend a night alone without being terrified of my own dreams, my own memories
.

She looked at Mila's high chair and smiled.
Life has saved the best for me at the end
, she thought. She touched the plastic rim of the tray on the high chair and noticed a small doll in the chair. Her heart squeezed with pleasure at the sight.

The phone rang from the living room, making Delphine jump and breaking the perfect stillness of the apartment.

It was probably Amelie calling to beg for the rest of the day off. Delphine was disposed to give it to her. After all, Maggie and the baby would be back before lunchtime.

“
Allo
?” she said into the receiver.

“Do you know who this is?” the voice growled out, a gravelly, distorted robotic voice.

“What?” She put a hand to her throat.

“You have something I want, Madame Normand,” the voice said. She couldn't determine the accent or even the gender of the voice.

“Who…who is this?”

“I want the secret you guard.”

“I don't know what you're talking about!”

“It is a very old secret, Madame, but no less valuable for its age, eh?”

“What…what are you…”

“I will call again and you will give me what I ask for,” the voice ground out. “Or I will hurt the ones nearest to you.”

The caller hung up and Delphine fumbled for a chair and collapsed into it, her heart beating in her chest like a trapped bird in a cage.

M
aggie and Beatrice
walked down the sidewalk with the Seine dark green to their right. Zouzou ran ahead but always turned to make sure Beatrice was watching her. And Beatrice always was. Maggie had opted for the back carrier today instead of the stroller. Mila peered out from around Maggie's head and kicked her feet with excitement as they walked.

It was a beautiful morning, although overcast with the ever present threat of spring showers. After a quick breakfast at Grace's of coffee and
pain au chocolat
, Maggie called Delphine to say she and Mila would be there sometime in the afternoon. Delphine encouraged her to take her time and that Amelie was due over shortly. It seemed to Maggie that Delphine sounded a little upset or breathless on the phone but it was hard to tell for sure. Perhaps she was just tired from the party last night.

The park where she and Beatrice were to meet Grace was off boulevard Saint-Germain. Maggie loved the park because although it was tucked into a copse off one of the busiest and most trafficked neighborhoods in the Latin Quarter, the park itself was a respite of calm and beauty. It backed up to the Jardin du musée de Cluny and was full of mothers watching their kids play on the climbing walls and swings. Inside the park were many wooden benches where office workers ate their lunch and tourists took a break from the stimulation of the world outside the park gates.

Along the way, Maggie stopped for chocolate at one of the ubiquitous chocolatiers in the Latin Quarter. She enjoyed wandering the narrow streets and quaint alleys as she and Beatrice wound their way to the park.

“I hope you know what a godsend you are to Grace,” Maggie said to Beatrice as the girl stopped to wipe chocolate from Zouzou's face and to hold her hand so they could cross boulevard Saint-Germain.

Beatrice smiled but looked confused. “Godsend? What means…?”

“It means she couldn't do without you. Nor Zouzou either.”

Maggie couldn't help but notice how attached Zouzou was to Beatrice. She never whined or asked about her absent mother. Although it was true Zouzou was normally a cheerful child—so unlike her older sister, Taylor—now that Maggie thought about it, it was a little strange that she didn't seem to be concerned about where her mother was.

But why would she? As long as she has Beatrice.

“I love Zouzou,” Beatrice said as she put a hand on the child's head. “She is the dearest of girls.”

“I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me in taking care of Mila, too.”

“
Ça ne fait rien
,” Beatrice said, blushing pink. “It is only my job. But it is a job I love.”

Beatrice's phone rang and the girl glanced at the screen before pushing the button to send the call to voice mail.

“I must always keep it on,” she explained to Maggie. “The parents of my little dear ones must know I will always respond if their child is with me. No matter what.”

“Grace was lucky to have found you, that's all.”

“Oh! Zouzou!” Beatrice said excitedly. “There is Maman! See?
Là-bas
!” Beatrice pointed across the street to the looming filigree double gates of the park. True enough, Grace was easily visible through the gates. She wore a bright chartreuse tunic that could literally be seen from a block away.

Beatrice kept a tight hand on Zouzou as they crossed the street but Maggie couldn't help noticing that there was no danger in Zouzou taking off and running to Grace. She seemed perfectly content to walk quietly by Beatrice's side.

The park was enclosed in an elaborate wrought iron fence with slides and climbing structures for the children. Large sycamore trees provided shade for the mothers and nannies smoking or eating their
jambon
sandwiches. An unbroken line of the classic Paris apartment buildings across the street faced the park.

As soon as they entered the park, Zouzou ran to the climbing wall, calling to Beatrice over her shoulder to come help her. Beatrice shrugged helplessly at Grace and hurriedly joined Zouzou as Maggie walked to where Grace was sitting.

“Well, you look like hell,” Maggie said as she joined Grace at the bench. It wasn't true. Even hung-over, Grace looked luminescent and beautiful.

It was frankly annoying.

“Are you seriously wearing that child on your back, darling?” Grace said as she adjusted her sunglasses. “What next? Overalls and growing your own vegetables? You do know you're in Paris, right?”

“I'm surprised you were able to break away from André for a few minutes.”

“He's at the gallery. Saturdays are big sales days for him,” Grace said, lighting a cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke over her shoulder.

“I'm sorry you missed the party last night,” Maggie said, pulling the baby carrier off her back and sitting down next to Grace. She settled Mila on her lap.

“If you're going to be mean to me,” Grace said. “I won't stay.”

“What's going on with you?” Maggie said with frustration. “I've never seen you blitzed like that.”

“Really?” Grace shrugged. “I'm just enjoying myself for the first time in my life.”

“That is a crock.”

“Can we please talk about something other than your massive disappointment in me which, darling, someone might actually interpret as jealousy?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Please?”

Maggie watched Beatrice and Zouzou as they negotiated the climbing wall. She couldn't help but notice that Grace hadn't even glanced in their direction.

“Well, you did miss some excitement last night,” Maggie said. “Delphine's stepdaughter showed up uninvited and had to be escorted out on her ear.”

“Mercy.”

“Seems she slipped in with two of the caterers when they went out to empty the garbage.”

“What did she want?”

“Delphine says Michelle thinks she should have gotten an inheritance when her father died.”

“He left everything to Delphine?”

“Apparently.”

Grace checked the screen of her phone. “Any news on the dead body you tripped over earlier in the week?”

“The cops said it was a home invasion gone wrong.”

“So no suspects?”

“None that they've informed me of.”

“Yes, well, don't hold your breath on that, darling.”

“Oh, and get a load of this…” Maggie leaned toward Grace. “
Gerard
showed up the night before at Delphine's.”

“What did he want?”

“Well, Delphine is his aunt, too, so he was trying to shake her down.”

“What did Laurent say about Gerard showing up? I'll bet he flipped.” When Maggie didn't respond, Grace tossed down her cigarette and ground it out with her shoe. “Oh, Maggie, you naughty girl. You haven't told him, have you?”

“I'm not sure what good it would do to have Laurent come charging up here, smoke pouring out of his ears,” Maggie said with exasperation. “I mean, Gerard has a right to live in Paris.”

“Maggie, when Laurent finds out you saw Gerard and didn't tell him, he will skin you alive.”

“Why does he ever need to know about it?” She gave Grace a meaningful look.

“Don't look at
me
, daring. I would never spill your beans. But are you sure it's safe?”

“No worries. Gerard looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in a year. His hands were shaking and he could barely punch the button on the elevator.”

“Still…”

“Trust me. Whatever threat Gerard was when he was putting my sister through hell, he isn't now. After our little talk, I'm sure he'll leave Delphine alone. Laurent doesn't need to know.”

“Bad policy, darling. This much I know.”

A squeal from the playground made both of them turn their heads. Zouzou was sitting on the ground, her face flushed. Beatrice knelt beside her and was speaking to her in a low voice.

“I think she's okay,” Maggie said.

“Darling, is that a bag from
Un Dimanche a Paris?”
Grace asked.

Maggie looked at the small shopping bag full of designer chocolates she'd set down next to the baby carrier.

“It might be,” she said.

“Oh, my God, Maggie Newberry Dernier. You are
never
going to lose that pregnancy weight.”

“These aren't for me. They're for Mila.” Maggie grinned, enjoying the bantering. This was the old Grace. The Grace she'd seen very little evidence of in the past week.

“Mila is six months old,” Grace said, wagging a finger at Maggie.

“I'm saving them for her.”

“So have you totally given up? I mean, do you just not
care
anymore?”

Maggie shrugged. “Not if it means I can't have chocolate.”

“You
can
have chocolate, darling. Just not at every meal.”

Maggie grinned good-naturedly and turned her attention back to Beatrice and Zouzou who were making their way over to them. Maggie was pretty sure Grace was waiting for her to say something about André—how much she liked him, how handsome he was—but Maggie couldn't do it. Not yet. She was terribly afraid if she tried to, something honest and unguarded would come tumbling out of her mouth.

“Hello, darling,” Grace called to Zouzou. “Having fun?”

Zouzou looked up at Beatrice and tugged her hand. “
J'ai faim
,” she said with a trace of a whine in her voice.

Maggie glanced at Grace but she didn't seem to notice that the child had ignored her. Now that Maggie thought of it, it struck her that she hadn't heard Zouzou speak English since she'd arrived. She and Laurent worked hard to make sure that Jemmy, and pretty soon Mila too, would both be bilingual. She was sure she'd had a discussion with Grace about it a few months back. And Grace felt the same way she did.

Did Grace not care any more?

“Oh! There he is!” Grace said, dropping a tube of lipstick into her purse and closing it with a loud click.

Maggie looked up to see André striding through the park gates toward them.

G
erard watched
her as she left the park. The hand holding the cigarette to his mouth shook. He let her get a block ahead, but always in sight. She was wearing a bright colored jacket and pausing often to look into the produce bins of the outdoor vendors. He watched her as she came to the crossroads, and stopped to survey the street, a smile playing on her lips.

What was she looking for?

She never thought to turn around. Never did she suspect he was there, behind her, always behind her.

Every step she took.

She had ruined his life at every corner. Turned his greatest love, his Elise, into a monster who preferred death to his caresses. Threw him to the wolves where his only hope for survival was to live like a roach scrabbling over filth—always looking over his shoulder for the man who hunted him.

Because of her.

She crossed the street, clearly heading toward his aunt's apartment.

And that was the worst insult of all. That she should come here to discredit him to the one person who didn't loathe him, who might possibly be persuaded to help him.

It was like she was just asking him to kill her