Bertrand opened the doors hastily to let the officer slip in and locked them carefully behind him. The man was panting.
“Quite famished out there, aren’t they?” said Bertrand, amused.
The officer didn’t laugh.
“You’re right on time, Mr. Legros. Amanda asked all guests and staff to meet in the ballroom. She will reveal important information about the murder.”
The officer followed Bertrand, rolling his eyes. As if he didn’t have enough with this infamous case. Now, an amateur sleuth! It was the cherry on the Sundae, or la cerise sur le gâteau (the cherry on the cake) as French people say.
When they arrived in the ballroom, Vincent Legros and Bertrand found a long line of guests waiting by the buffet, engaged in lively conversations about the case, eager to find out who the killer was. The officer felt comforted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the room. He looked up at the crystal chandeliers that lit up the majestic room and noticed the elaborate marquetry on the paneling.
The guests who had filled their plates walked to the round tables with white tablecloths arranged in the room and sat with other people.
Brigitte Plansec had arrived early to sit at a table close to Paul Dumont’s, wearing her wedding gown, which attracted everybody’s attention. People glanced at her, whispering and laughing.
While eating, Brigitte kept staring at the actor who paid no attention to her.
“Ah, Mr. Legros, I’m glad you finally made it!” Amanda walked toward the Judicial Police Officer and shook his hand.
“Ms. McBride, may I speak with you for a moment, please?” asked the officer.
“Sir, I’ll be glad to talk with you after I’ve spoken to my guests and staff. We’ve been waiting for you for two long days. I’m sure you can allow us a few more minutes?”
“But—”
Amanda took the officer’s arm and led him to a table nearby. She invited him to sit on a chair, putting a plate with two croissants in his hands. “Trust me,” she said. “You won’t be disappointed, Mr. Legros.”
The officer sat on the chair reluctantly. A waitress served him a cup of coffee, and he started to relax, thinking he had deserved a break after his exhausting race.
He glanced at the guests surrounding him and saw Paul Dumont, Flora Guardian, and Élodie Faber’s parents behind him, at a table placed at the far end of the room.
Once the last guest had been seated, Amanda stood in front of her audience and asked for silence. Within a few seconds, the whole room had all eyes and ears on her.
“Thank you all being here this morning,” said Amanda. “It has been two long days since the tragic event on Sunday. You have been very patient. I know how difficult it has been for you to remain sequestered in the castle. I believe the information I found and want to share with you now will give us closure and will allow us to finally go back to our daily lives. But before I say anything, Bertrand and Camille will walk between the tables to collect your cell phones in baskets.”
An expression of disapproval rose in the ballroom.
“I’m sorry, but I think it is a necessary measure,” continued Amanda. “After the shocking pictures and videos shot in the castle without permission and that spread in the media, you can understand why I don’t want to risk another leak that would feed the reporters out there. I don’t want to see more distasteful articles published about the case.”
Some guests were glued to their cell phones, nervously typing a last ‘crucial’ text before the unbearable restriction took place, as if the world was about to end. They touched the ‘send’ button and whined when abandoning their precious devices.
Amanda looked sideways at Barbara Clément who gave her a mocking smile in return. She put a cell phone in the basket Camille was handing her, but the employee didn’t move. She waited for more. The blogger sighed and pulled out another cell phone from her jeans pocket and put in the basket. A few guests tried to negotiate keeping their phones, even offering bribes, but Bertrand and Camille stood firm on the rule.
“This rule applies to everybody, therefore me and my staff already put our cell phones in the baskets too. Don’t worry, the baskets will stay here in the room, placed in view on this table beside me. This way, you’re assured no one will take them. Bertrand and Camille will give them back to you as soon as the meeting is over.”
A man stood from his chair. “All right, let’s get straight to the point now. Have you found the killer?”
Everybody stared at Amanda, waiting impatiently for her answer.
“I believe I have,” she answered.
Exclamations of surprise popped up at the tables.
“Who is it then?” asked a woman.
“You understand I can’t point out someone right away,” answered Amanda. “I have to give you an explanation and must tell you first what Liliane and I found out when we conducted the interviews, so you can understand how I came up with this conclusion.”
“But, is the killer in the room, right now?” asked a guest.
“Yes. The person I believe to be the killer is in this room with us now,” replied Amanda.
Loud conversations started immediately. People looked around them in dismay, trying to figure out who the killer was, hoping it wasn’t one of the guests sitting at their table.
“For Christ’s sake!” yelled Mrs. Faber, “Can’t you all shut up? I lost my daughter! If someone has been patient enough here, it’s me and my husband! So, speak, Ms. McBride! What are you waiting for?”
The silence returned to the room.
Amanda cleared her voice. “As you all know, Élodie was famous. Thousands, if not millions, of people all over France loved her. She had a lot of fans who looked forward to seeing her married to Paul Dumont. This fame and this important wedding were exactly what attracted the killer here. Had the wedding not been publicized, maybe Élodie would still be alive.”
Mr. Faber was wiping tears off his cheeks.
“Unfortunately, fame also attracts hate and jealousy. Élodie had everything: she was young, beautiful, had a promising career in French cinema, and she was about to marry a famous actor.”
Everybody turned to Paul Dumont. He lowered his head.
“Moreover,” continued Amanda, “Élodie came from a very rich family. Fortune had smiled on her since birth. The happy and fortunate life Élodie enjoyed was exactly what the killer couldn’t cope with. But who hates someone that much they’re ready to kill? And why? Of course, this is what I had to find out. You all agreed to answer my questions—well, most of you, shall I say...” Amanda glanced at Richard Barquet who didn’t seem to care, drinking from a cup of coffee. “I believe most of you told the truth. But any of you could’ve lied, pretending you loved Élodie while you secretly resented her. So, I became obsessed with this idea: who had lied? And who had the strongest motive to kill Élodie? Who was the liar hiding in this pile?” Amanda pointed to the pile of interviews on the table beside her.
“It happens that the liar… didn’t need to lie. Well, not really.”
All the guests and staff looked confused.
“Now, I’m about to say unpleasant things about Élodie. I want to apologize in advance to her parents, but some things need to be said to explain what happened. Mr. and Mrs. Faber, you’re free to leave the room now if you’d rather not hear what I have to say. I would understand.”
Mrs. Faber frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, but she didn’t move. Her husband wasn’t paying any attention to anything that was going on in the room. The poor man kept crying.
“The truth is… Élodie was an awful person,” said Amanda.
The audience let out an “Oh!” of indignation.
Mrs. Faber stood up. “How dare you!?” she yelled. “This is disgusting! My daughter is the victim here. Watch your mouth, Ms. McBride.”
“I’m sorry to have to say this, Mrs. Faber, but if you want to know what happened to your daughter, I have to tell the ugly truth too.”
Élodie’s mother sat back on her chair, fuming.
“As I said, Élodie had a privileged life,” continued Amanda. “Mr. and Mrs. Faber were very protective of her, which is understandable for parents. They also happen to be very rich. And wealth gives you something that few people have: power. When questioning the guests and searching for information online about Élodie’s life, I found out she had very little respect, if any, for the persons around her. She was used to people serving her and behaved like…” Amanda hesitated a moment. “Like a spoiled brat.”
Mrs. Faber mumbled something. The guests looked at each other, surprised, whispering comments. Flora Guardian’s mouth turned up at the corner. Had it been appropriate, the publicist would’ve shown an unapologetic radiant smile.
“Then someone gave me an important bit of information about Élodie’s life that I wouldn’t have been able to find on my own. This helped my search and led it in the right direction. Élodie spent her teen years in a prestigious boarding school in Switzerland. A school that was significantly damaged by a fire when Élodie studied there. People were severely injured in this fire and, worst of all, a young girl died. I’ve been told the person who had started this fire was… Élodie herself. She had done this as part of a game.”
The revelation cast a pall in the room. No sound. No movement. Only shocked gazes.
Mrs. Faber stood up again. “Be very careful, Ms. McBride,” she said. “Or I’ll sue you for defamation!”
“I’m being careful, Mrs. Faber. You avoided the negative consequences of the fire incident using your money. You paid the boarding school’s management a large sum of money not to be sued, which would’ve ruined Élodie’s life and your reputation.”
All heads turned toward the Faber’s.
“You used your money to protect your daughter,” pursued Amanda, “and you used your connections many times to allow her to enjoy a life many young women dream to have. Élodie had always been privileged and protected by you, even when she shouldn’t have. But Élodie hurt people. She hurt them deeply. And there are wounds that never heal. With time, these wounds can turn into resentment, this resentment into hate, and this hate into revenge. It is what happened. Élodie’s death was an act of revenge.”
Guests started talking animatedly again.
“May I have your attention for just a few more minutes, please?” asked Amanda.
Bertrand and Camille helped Amanda by gesturing to the guests to be quiet. They stopped talking.
“Thank you. I promise we’ll soon be finished with this,” said Amanda. “I was talking about Élodie’s murder being an act of revenge. But to be exact, it was a double act of revenge. The evidence seems to show that one person killed her, and another sought to shame and humiliate her when she was at her most vulnerable. Strangely enough, these two people didn’t know each other. The only thing they had in common was hate and resentment. It’s pure luck that brought these two people to Élodie’s suite the night she died. It’s time for me to tell you who these people are.”
A wave of apprehension flooded the room.
Amanda walked toward Brigitte Plansec’s table and stopped in front of her. “Ms. Plansec, do you wear makeup?” she asked.
The woman blushed, feeling uncomfortable at being the center of attention. “No,” she merely answered.
“The night Élodie died,” continued Amanda, “you went to her room because you wanted to talk to her. Am I right?”
Brigitte Plansec shrugged like a kid.
“You wanted to dissuade her from marrying Paul Dumont,” continued Amanda. “Paul, the man who you have adored all your life. You’re more than a fan of the actor. You feel that you’re connected with him, that you’re the woman he always dreamed of.”
Paul Dumont was intrigued. He sat back on his chair and removed the black glasses he was wearing.
“You believe Paul Dumont knows you’re special.” Amanda spoke softly to Brigitte Plansec. “You wanted to be his bride. You couldn’t stand the idea of Élodie Faber being his wife. Is this why you’re wearing a wedding gown, Brigitte? Because you hope to marry Paul Dumont?”
Everybody had their eyes on the woman, waiting for an answer. Brigitte Plansec didn’t say a word. She stayed planted on her chair, petrified.
Amanda pulled a chair and sat beside her. “Here’s what I think happened, Brigitte: on Saturday night you went to Élodie’s suite intending to talk to her, as I said before. When you arrived to the suite, you noticed the door was open a few inches. You went into the room, and you saw her on the floor. Is that right?”
There was not a sound in the room. All the guests were stiff on their chairs, their attention turned to Amanda and Brigitte, afraid to hear the rest of the story. Or maybe looking forward to it.
Brigitte Plansec looked down. Her body began to shake.
“You were probably surprised at first,” continued Amanda, “wondering why Élodie Faber was lying on the floor, wearing her wedding dress. She didn’t move or say a word. So, you walked toward her, and you realized she was dead.”
Amanda paused. But Brigitte still wouldn’t speak. She kept avoiding her gaze.
“All right. I’ll keep going then. So, you realized Élodie was dead. You should’ve called for help, but instead you suddenly had the most macabre idea of all. You took Élodie’s makeup pouch left somewhere in the room and you applied her own makeup on her face. Grossly, on purpose, to make her ugly. To humiliate her. Because, even dead on the floor, you wanted everybody to see Élodie Faber for who she really was: an ugly person. Am I right, Brigitte?”
Brigitte Plansec shook her head frenetically. “No, no, no!” yelled the woman. “It’s not true! It’s all lies!” She ran to the doors, hoping to escape, but Bertrand closed them and blocked her way.
Amanda walked to her. “Brigitte, both I and Liliane saw a Chanel makeup pouch in your suitcase the other day. I know it’s not yours,” said Amanda. “This makeup pouch belonged to Élodie. You’re the one who put the makeup on her face. Brigitte, what you did was horrible, and it was a crime. Do you realize that?”
The woman’s face was red, contorted. She couldn’t hold her anger anymore. “She was not made for Paul!” she yelled. “I am made for Paul! I am Paul’s wife! He loves me, not her! You said it yourself! Élodie was a horrible person! Horrible!”
Brigitte Plansec shouted and cried like a child having a tantrum. She banged on the doors. Amanda and Bertrand tried to calm her down, but the woman was very strong and hard to control. Vincent Legros went to their aid.
“Look at you, crazy woman!” yelled Mrs. Faber from the other side of the room. “You’re the one who’s ugly and horrible!” she was about to run to Brigitte, but Paul Dumont grabbed her wrist to stop her. He looked at her, shaking his head. She sat on her chair. “Then who killed my daughter?” yelling Mrs. Faber.
Amanda left Brigitte Plansec in Vincent Legros and Bertrand’s hands. She walked back to the front of the room.
“Although Élodie and her killer knew each other quite well, Élodie would’ve never recognized this person,” said Amanda.
The revelation about Brigitte Plansec and her despicable act had shaken the guests. They wondered what horror would come next.
“There could be many reasons one wouldn’t be able to recognize someone they used to know well,” said Amanda. “Maybe they haven’t seen each other for years, therefore they wouldn’t recognize each other at first glance. But when someone has a new face, it’s impossible to recognize them.”
Amanda turned to her right where her employees were standing. One of them was opening a service door.
“No, Anita. It would be stupid of you to try to leave the room. There are police officers posted outside. They know everything. They are waiting for you.”
The whole room reacted with a silent shock and stared at the housekeeper.
Isabelle turned to Anita, shaking her head in disbelief. “What? No! It’s a mistake. It’s not you. It’s not you Anita, right? You did
n’t do it?”
Anita closed the door and turned around. She scanned the room slowly, taking in Amanda, her colleagues, the guests, and Élodie Faber’s parents.
Then she took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and stepped forward.
“I want all of you to know it was well worth it,” she said. Calmly.
Chapter 49
A fter Anita’s arrest, and once the last guests left, Amanda told her team to gather in the restaurant. They all needed a break. Closing the castle for a few hours wouldn’t be a big deal. The world wouldn’t end.
The employees put all of the tables together in the middle of the dining room and pulled chairs, then they sat around in silence. They were deeply disturbed by the recent news, particularly Isabelle who had worked closely with Anita. With a murderer. She was in shock and couldn’t stop crying.
“I’ll make fresh coffee,” said Liliane.
Two employees offered help and followed Liliane to the kitchen. They came back a few minutes later carrying platters with coffee pots and mugs. They served their colleagues.
Pascal broke the heavy silence.
“I still can’t believe Anita killed Élodie Faber,” he said.
“Once you hear her story, maybe you’ll see her differently,” said Amanda. “She’ll still be a murderer, of course, but understanding what motivated her to commit the irreparable crime might help you put this in perspective.” Amanda took a sip of coffee.
“Anita and Élodie were schoolmates in the same boarding school in Switzerland. Although Élodie came from a rich family, it wasn’t the case for Anita. Her parents worked very hard to pay for their unique child’s education. They believed sending her to this prestigious school would guarantee their daughter a better life. Unfortunately, it’s not what happened. Anita understood the sacrifices her parents made for her, and she was grateful for it. She was a brilliant student and a beautiful young girl very much appreciated by her schoolmates and her teachers. But one evening changed everything. Élodie and her clique of girlfriends used to challenge each other with stupid games. Élodie accepted the challenge of setting the school’s library on fire, which she did. Not only did the library burn, but the whole school too. A student died in this fire and several were severely injured. Anita was one of them. Her hair caught fire and she was badly disfigured. She had to undergo many plastic surgeries to get a new face, which is why Élodie didn’t recognize her.”
French Weddings Can Kill You Page 14