by Harper Lin
“I’m not saying anything. I’m just trying to cover all the bases.”
“Sarah and I have a friendly relationship. We still keep in touch.”
“Why did you break up?”
“We were just better off as friends. Our relationship petered out when we realized how different we were. That was eight months ago. I met Charlotte last month and felt she was a better fit for me. Like I said, it’s better to be with someone who understands art, you know?”
“So what is Sarah doing now?”
“She does a few lingerie shoots for catalogs once in a while, but she also has a part-time job at one of Galeries Lafayette’s perfume booths.”
“Hmm. Does she have an online social media presence?”
“She has a Facebook fan page for her modeling.”
Clémence searched her name on her smartphone. The girl didn’t have a lot of fans, that was for sure—only ninety likes. She used to feel resentment toward Sarah for stealing Mathieu away more than two years ago, but the girl was now a salesgirl and her career was going nowhere. Clémence couldn’t help but pity her.
Unless, of course, she had killed Charlotte.
Chapter 10
After talking to Mathieu for another hour, she returned home and continued studying Sarah’s Facebook page on her laptop. Miffy barked at her heels in the kitchen.
“I know you want to walk, Miff, but I have to do some research right now. Can you wait?”
Miffy looked as if she understood. She began playing with a rubber dog bone in the corner. Clémence turned back to Sarah’s modeling photos. She was a gorgeous redhead with creamy skin, but her body shape was too curvy, not ideal for the stick-thin world of modeling. While she was incredibly beautiful, there was something awkward about her poses, as if she wasn’t in complete control of her features or her body, and wasn’t entirely comfortable being in front of the camera.
Clémence looked through Sarah’s friends list to see if they had any mutual friends. Mathieu was on it, of course. There were some names that Clémence vaguely recognized, but she wanted to find someone she knew well.
She thought about approaching Sarah herself, but there was less of a chance that she’d open up to her. Clémence preferred to ask a friend that Sarah was comfortable with to meet her and probe that friend with questions.
Just when she was about to give up on Sarah’s list of 3000 friends, she came across Madeleine Seydoux’s name.
She’d met Madeleine only recently after the whole debacle with Madeleine’s sister’s kidnapping. They’d reached out to each other several times in the past week. The kidnapping incident had bonded the girls in the short amount of time they’d known each other. Clémence figured she was the perfect person to ask.
When she pulled out her smartphone from her purse to make the call, she realized that she had two missed calls from Arthur, as well as a text message.
The message was simply a link. She clicked on it. It led to a gossip website, Paris Social, which had a special focus on Paris celebrities and socialites. This particular post featured a picture of her entering Mathieu’s house, taken earlier that day. Mathieu was embracing her. The headline read: Clémence Damours returns to ex for the second time, cheats on boyfriend.
Clémence felt heat rising in her body. Anger. She was angry at the paparazzi scum who captured an innocent moment, and at Arthur for simply believing everything he read.
She immediately called Arthur. He didn’t pick up and she had to leave a message.
“Arthur, please, please don’t believe what they’re writing. It’s not true. I’m not cheating on you. The reason I went to visit Mathieu today was because his girlfriend was murdered last night. I’ll explain everything. Call me when you get this. Maybe you can help me? Just call me, please.”
He had to understand why she had to get involved. He would understand, wouldn’t he?
Next, she called Madeleine. She thought Madeleine might’ve been busy with work, but she picked up.
“Clémence, hello,” she answered brightly. “What’s new?”
“Well, actually, I’m in a bit of a pickle.” She explained about Mathieu’s girlfriend being killed.
“Oh, my God. Charlotte Lagrange. I’ve met her. How sad!”
“Did you know her well?”
“We’ve had a few conversations—you know, party small talk. So no, we weren’t close, but I can’t believe she was killed!”
“What would you guys talk about?”
“Mostly fashion, art, things like that. I don’t remember exactly. I talk to so many people at parties, although I did remember that she dressed to the nines when she came out. That girl had style.”
“Do you know of any enemies she might have had?”
“Hmm. I have no idea. You know how bitchy some of the other girls can get. I’m sure there were some who hated on her guts, but I really hope none of them would hate her enough to kill her!”
“It’s what I’m trying to find out,” Clémence said.
“Poor Mathieu. I hope he’s all right.”
“The thing is, I’m investigating a lead.”
“Really?” Madeleine exclaimed. “Who?”
“I hope you don’t take offence to this, but it’s Sarah. Sarah Jones. She’s a friend of yours, right?”
“Yes. Sarah. She used to come to parties with Mathieu and that’s how we became friends. She was an up-and-coming model, right? We weren’t too close either, but we used to see each other at parties all the time and she seemed like a nice girl, if a little timid. But she stopped going to parties a while ago. I haven’t seen her for months. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I saw her.”
“Why do you think she stopped coming?”
“I don’t know. She was tagging along with Mathieu at those things to begin with. I don’t think she enjoyed the spotlight. She was always by his side. Her confidence didn’t seem to be too high, and I always felt a bit bad for her so I’d try to talk to her and include her in conversation.”
“What do you know about her?”
“She’s Irish, but moved to Paris to study French literature, but she didn’t graduate because a modeling scout found her and she signed on to an agency. For a while, she was doing well with lingerie campaigns. The only thing really striking about her is her beauty. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to have the personality to really succeed in the business. Plus she’d gained a bit of weight the last time I saw her. I mean, she looks fine in real life, but it didn’t fly in the fashion industry. But she’s a sweet girl. I don’t think she would’ve murdered Charlotte.”
“Who knows?” Clémence said. “Appearances can be deceiving. I really want to question her, but I was wondering if you can help me. She knows who I am, and I doubt she’d want to open up to me. Can you do me a favor and reach out to her? Ask her if she wants to have a quick coffee or something? I want to find out where she was last night, when the shooting happened. The murder is in the papers, but Charlotte wasn’t named in the articles, so it’s not common knowledge. She won’t suspect that you know that Charlotte’s dead. Are you up for it?”
“Sure. Sounds fun. I always wanted to be a spy, like in the movies! I can see if Sarah’s available tonight for a quick drink. Are you going to have me wear a wire?”
Clémence chuckled. “I’m not so high tech. When you meet her, just call me and leave your phone on. I’ll tape your conversation from my end of the phone.”
“Oh, even better. It’ll be so much fun!”
Chapter 11
Madeleine called back twenty minutes later to inform Clémence that Sarah had been pleased to hear from her. She’d agreed to meet up with Madeleine in a small café in the ninth arrondissement near Galeries Lafayette, where she was working that day.
As Clémence and Madeleine chatted about their plan, Clémence went on Google Maps and saw that there was a crêperie across the street from the café, where she could watch Sarah without being seen. She told Madeleine to try to get a
table outside.
It was past two and she still hadn’t received a call back from Arthur. Surely he had time to call her during lunch. She left another message on his voicemail, telling him that she was going to be out investigating and didn’t know what time she would be home.
She changed into all black: her spy outfit. She’d been wearing a lot of black recently, as if that would help her blend in with the shadows. She brought her black sun hat for good measure, to hide her trademark bob. This way Sarah wouldn’t be able to recognize her from across the street.
Clémence had met Sarah briefly after Mathieu dumped her. One day she dropped by the apartment that she used to share with Mathieu unannounced, to pick up some things that she’d left after she moved out. Sarah had been hanging around. Clémence wouldn’t have been surprised if Sarah had already moved in to replace her. It’d been a dramatic experience for Clémence, to say the least. While Sarah had been soft-spoken and polite, Clémence still hated her. She resented her long, luscious hair, her Scarlett Johansson curves, her pouty lips, and how Mathieu was simply obsessed with her.
Mathieu was a charmer. He could flit from girl to girl like a bee flitted between flowers. Of course, he dropped Sarah in the end, when the novelty wore off. In that, she sympathized with Sarah.
On the front steps of the Palais Garnier, she waited for Madeleine to show up. Clémence had told her that she’d be dressed in black, in case she failed to recognize her.
A cab pulled up, and Madeleine stepped out and waved to Clémence with a big smile. The eldest Seydoux sister had long brown hair styled in loose waves, large doe eyes and porcelain skin. She wore a soft pink designer pants suit, a silk cream blouse, and black Louboutin heels, looking every inch the chic working girl-slash-socialite she was.
“So good to see you!” Madeleine greeted her with bisous. “No pesky paparazzi at your back today?”
“Nope. Good riddance.”
“All this extra attention is draining Sophie, too. She can’t go to therapy without being harassed. But she’s making the most out of it. She signed a book deal to tell her story. Maybe it’ll be therapeutic for her. I heard they asked you too, but you said no.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“You’re modest. You saved her life.”
“Oh, it’s pure luck.” Clémence waved her compliment away. “Anyway, you’re looking fab.”
“Speak for yourself, fashionista. You were Best Dressed on the Paris Social blog this month. They love you.”
“Well, they’ve been a pain in the ass.” She explained how they’d managed to snap her going into her ex’s house two days in a row.
“They’re just desperate for a good scoop. At least the paps aren’t around right now, but let’s get walking since this is a photo hotspot.”
“So Sarah said she was coming at five thirty p.m.?” Clémence asked.
Madeleine nodded. “That’s what she agreed to. She says she has a break from work at that time. I don’t know what to expect. I haven’t seen her in ages. It might even be a year. Time passes so fast.”
“The important thing is to ask her what she thinks about Mathieu’s new girlfriend, and also to find out what she was doing last night.”
“Got it. God, what if she’s actually the murderer? I mean, I’d be talking to a murderer, then!”
“We’ll see. We don’t know anything, so we can’t jump to conclusions. Who knows? Maybe she might know something about Mathieu and Charlotte that nobody else does. Just ask questions, without sounding like you’re interrogating her.”
“It’s okay. I’m the nosy type and she knows it, so she won’t suspect anything out of the ordinary.”
“I figured you’d be the perfect person for this gig.” Clémence smiled. “You’ll be a good partner-in-crime.”
They reached the café that was on a side street from Galerie Lafayette.
“Perfect,” Clémence said. “There are plenty of empty seats outside. I’ll be inside that crêperie, watching from the window. Call me as soon as she comes, and leave the phone on.”
The girls took their places and waited. Madeleine lit a cigarette and smoked, along with everybody else who was sitting outside. There were still fifteen minutes to go until Sarah would show up, so Madeleine played around on her smartphone.
Clémence was tempted to order a chocolate crepe. But she’d already eaten a pain au chocolat that day, so per her one-dessert-a-day limit, she settled on a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
When she’d drunk most of the juice, Sarah finally showed up. In gray pants and a white dress shirt, Clémence could see Sarah had gained a little bit of weight. Was this why she wasn’t modeling as much anymore? Her long hair was tied into a bun and her face was made up; Sarah was still just as beautiful as Clémence remembered.
Madeleine called her on the phone. Clémence muted her phone and started recording the conversation.
Madeleine and Sarah made a fuss greeting each other, making small talk and complimenting one another, as Clémence had done with Madeleine earlier. The waiter took their drink orders, and Madeline immediately turned back to Sarah, “It’s been so long. How have you been? Where have you been?”
Sarah shrugged, a weary smile on her face. “Oh, you know. I’m still modeling, but I found it a little desensitizing. I’m disillusioned with it. In fact, I grew to hate it. I’ve tried it for a good year and a half in Paris, but it’s not the career for me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I hate being treated like a clothes hanger. Or a piece of meat. Sometimes I have to go to castings and they ask me to strip on the spot.”
“What about acting? That’s at least a little bit more humanizing.”
“Well, I’m not good in front of the cameras. I can’t act. You know how shy I am. Plus, I’m Irish. My French is not the best. To do that I’d have to go to the UK, move altogether.”
“So why don’t you? Unless there’s someone keeping you here.”
“No.” Sarah laughed. “I’m going through kind of a dry spell, actually.”
“Nobody at all? A gorgeous girl like you? Are you still hung up on Mathieu?”
“No. We’re better off apart.”
“I heard he’s moved on with some girl who works at an art gallery or something,” Madeleine said. “You’re not a teensy bit jealous?”
“Our relationship just wasn’t meant to be. I felt it. Sure, I’m a bit hurt that he’s moved on so fast, but I want him to be happy. I’m sure I’ll meet someone when I’m ready for it, too.”
“That’s very big of you. Every time I go through a breakup, I’m batshit crazy for weeks, driving everyone around me nuts.”
Sarah laughed. “Well, it’s not easy, you know? But I try to be mature about it. Mathieu seems happy, so I’ll just let him be. Like my mother says, when God closes a door, he opens a window.”
“Well, who needs guys? What have you been doing for fun lately?”
“Actually, I’ve been pretty busy. To tell you the truth, there’s been a change in my life. It’s big, and it’s partly why I haven’t been going out at all.”
Madeleine leaned in. “What is it?”
“I had a baby.”
“What? No way!”
Sarah nodded. “Yes. She’s my pride and joy. She’s nearly one. I’m lucky that she got into crèche so I’m able to work part-time. Her name is Joy. Do you want to see pictures?”