by L. B. Simon
"And where were you throughout the night?"
"Robbing my own house!" Belmont slammed his fist on the table, almost toppling over the vase. "What do you think? Imbécile!"
"Papa! S’il te plaît!" Mélisande cried, placing her hand on his. "Please! These are questions that need to be raised and answered." She looked Aidan straight in the eyes. "Thank you, Monsieur Carver, for your straightforwardness, I would rather have these questions out of the way than hanging over our heads like storm clouds, casting doubt on us. We were here most of the evening. Papa and I had maybe two or three short breaks through the whole night. I also stepped out for maybe an hour around midnight."
"Stepped out?" Lachance took the lead on the questioning.
"I went to the library, with my fiancé, François Renaud." Mélisande raised her left-hand flashing everyone the 8-carat princess cut engagement ring she was wearing.
Belmont’s shoulders relaxed slightly at this.
"Hm… Anyone else saw you?" Lachance scribbled something in his notebook.
"Samuel brought us drinks, I am not sure of the time, and anyone else who was close by probably heard us." She averted her gaze, a faint blush pushing its way up her cheeks. "We were engaged in a shouting match…"
The spark had left her eyes, and she seemed suddenly sad. Aidan wondered what had happened between the two; was there trouble in paradise?
"How did you discover the theft?" Lachance went on as if he hadn’t noticed the abrupt change in Mélisande’s demeanor.
"I was supposed to put back my daughter’s earrings after the soirée. We went to the adjoining room, opened the door and found the vault ransacked." Belmont chimed in, giving time for his daughter to recover from whatever was going on in her heart.
"I would like to see the upper floor and all the stairs, that is, if you don’t mind." Aidan leaned forward slightly.
Belmont paled and surveyed Lachance then reddened with anger, realizing that the request was not a jest.
"You cannot be serious! Yes, I do mind! It’s out of the question! I will not have a thief crawling around my private quarters!" The man growled.
"I see! The request was a simple courtesy, if you do not give us access then you are obstructing our investigation!" Lachance got to his feet. "If I need to get a search warrant, things will not go smoothly for you, Monsieur Belmont."
The man of the house sighed and stood up too, seemingly deflated.
"I will take you, then." He interjected before Mélisande could say anything.
"If you will excuse me, gentlemen; I will join you upstairs shortly." Mélisande rose graciously and walked away.
Aidan noted appreciatively that the stunning dress, so modest from the front, was daring from behind, with a low-cut revealing most of her bare back. Her hair was styled in a loose side braid that tumbled over her left shoulder, leaving her smooth skin exposed.
The men followed Mélisande out to the front of the house, Aidan watching the graceful sway of her body, until the butler fell into step behind her, hiding her from view. Aidan suppressed a grin; the butler wasn’t sharing. Ah! All the mysteries of grand houses.
She took the stairs on the right, and they the left, moving to the second floor. Aidan glanced back, feeling someone’s gaze on him, once they reached the upper level. He met the heiress’ eyes just as she was about to disappear in another stairwell. She beamed at him and his breath caught in his chest. She was trouble, all right; trouble with a capital T.
Chapter 4
The vault was adjacent to a sitting room, located directly above the area where the party was held. This chamber too had a couple of paintings by French painters, Henri Biva and Gaspard Dughet, one was a warm green meadow and the second a sun-filled landscape. Antique furniture added charm to this medium sized space, with a large empty fireplace and two airy windows that were thankfully heavily draped; sunlight was the sworn enemy of art.
Two sliding bookcases usually hid the vault, but now stood wide apart and men were working inside. Aidan briefly glanced in, seeing the forensic team bagging each safe deposit box that littered the vault’s floor. There were a few paintings stored in a corner, but they seemed to have been left undisturbed.
Belmont watched Aidan carefully as if the former thief was planning to steal something, and him not going to the vault, like Kárpáti and Lachance, was suspicious behavior, in itself. But Aidan didn’t want to see the vault, not yet, he wanted to break-in, he was a thief after all; there was no fun in using open doors.
"Where are the servant’s stairs?" Aidan inquired.
"Papa, you know this vault better than I do, how about you stay here and I show Monsieur Carver the stairs."
Mélisande stood by the entrance to the sitting room, her long auburn waves up in a messy ponytail, wearing a soft pink shirt with three-quarter sleeves and skinny blue jeans. She looked her father in the eyes as if it was the most natural thing for her to be showing a thief around the house. Her engagement ring was deadpan center on display as she crossed her arms. Belmont hesitated a long moment, then nodded.
"This way, then. The access is right down the hall." She whirled on her pink French heels and left the room.
"Can we actually start on the main floor?" Aidan stopped in the hallway, glancing around.
"We will be coming back here anyway," she raised an eyebrow.
"I prefer doing things my way, sorry." Aidan shrugged innocently but knew that she wasn’t buying his act.
"That is fine." She seemed amused. "Will the main stairs do?"
Aidan confirmed with a nod and she headed down the steps. He felt apprehensive about being alone with her. She might have her papa lulled into a false sense of security, with her display of ring and big eyes, but he knew better. In silence, they made their way down the steps where Mélisande stopped and stared up at the bronze statue of the two lovers intertwined.
"Camille Claudel is my favorite," she said, in a dreamy tone.
"It is beautiful," Aidan admitted, he too staring at the statue.
"This has been here for four generations, a specially commissioned piece for our family, yet, I am still in awe every time I pass by it." The corners of her lips stretched out in an embarrassed smile.
"I can see why. Claudel really knew how to bring life to inert mediums. I mean the passion, the love, the life that oozes out of this statue… Sorry, I tend to get carried away sometimes." He grinned apologetically.
"Shall we?" She headed down the hall. "You are an art lover too?" She threw over her shoulder without turning back.
"I guess you can say that."
"You were a thief?" She stopped in a darkened hall, her eyes boring into him.
She studied his sharp features, walnut hair so dark that it could be mistaken for black, and his large chocolate eyes. He was about a head taller than she, athletic without being overly muscular.
"Yes. Ahem," Aidan cleared his throat, waiting for the next question.
"What kind of things did you steal?"
"All kinds. But not money. I like the finer things in life; elegance and beauty." He motioned towards the rooms around them, then to her necklace that was now in full view.
It was a stunning and very expensive piece. The chain held a medium size circular pendant that housed pink star diamonds with a gold scorpion caught inside. Its stinger, a deep raspberry colored stone that Aidan assumed to be red beryl, was poised to strike, while the pedipalps raised in warning, were olive musgravite.
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" She raised it up. "Most women in my family are born under the zodiac of the Scorpio. My great-grandfather had this made for the love of his life." She smiled and held out her hand. "I am Mélisande Belmont. Enchantée!"
"Aidan Carver. Nice to meet you too." Aidan grasped her hand and felt a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm.
Her eyes widened too, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt it.
"Would my neckless be something to catch your fancy?" She asked as their hands fell apart.
"I am a reformed man…" Aidan leaned in slightly towards her as if divulging some secret.
"Oh! I did not know that zebras can change their stripes…" Her playful grin and teasing words let him know that she wasn’t entirely serious. "What made you change your line of work, if I may call it that?"
"Is this an interview?" Aidan held her unblinking gaze.
"Of course! You are in my house, filled with what you assume to be original artworks; you are… I am sorry; were a thief. You can not just expect me to show you the back door to my home without questioning your intentions." She waved her hand dramatically to encompass the space surrounding them.
"Very smart, and you are right." He shifted his weight to his other foot, finding her scrutiny unnerving. "I was caught red-handed seven years ago during a robbery; I was given a choice, spend the next few years behind bars or help recover a stolen Roman bust that has been missing for over a decade, thus reducing my sentence to six months. Through my contacts, I was able to piece together enough information to help the police find the item. Then I was approached by Kárpáti, he was trying to find a painting stolen from a private collection, much like yours. He offered to lower the charges down to three months in exchange for my assistance. With the support of my team, I did and he realized that I was more useful on the outside than locked up in a prison cell, so he arranged to have the charges dropped in full, and hired me as a private contractor."
"You work with a team?" Her expression turned quizzical.
"Yes. A few trusted friends. And I swear, I won’t take anything belonging to you or from your home without your permission."
"Thank you for your frankness. I am sorry for what happened to you." Genuine sadness clouded Mélisande’s features.
"Don’t be. If I hadn’t been caught I would never have had the pleasure of meeting you!"
"Well, you definitely have an interesting outlook on life! And you are a smooth talker." Then she motioned to the almost invisible door in the wall beside them. "Here we are…"
Chapter 5
"You are very sneaky, yourself!" Aidan laughed approvingly. He knelt by the door, pulled out a small flashlight from his pant pocket and studied the lock. "Who has keys to this door?"
"Only Samuel and I."
"Your father doesn’t have one?"
"Non, this is my house. There is no reason for him to have it." The heiress stated in a cool, steady tone.
Aidan watched her for a moment in amazement.
"I had thought that this was his property… The way he spoke…" He noted how his words hardened her gaze. It was a subject best to be left alone, he thought, at least for now. "You mentioned something earlier about it not being in use. Are you sure about that?" Mélisande blushed suddenly, her silence was answer enough. "You?" He whispered.
She averted her eyes, hesitating.
"Mademoiselle?" Samuel appeared, once again, out of thin air.
"You need to be honest with me; I can’t help you otherwise!" Aidan ignored the butler. "All I need to know is that this passage is used, not for what."
"I use it." The butler declared.
"Good. That lock looks well used, and recently too." Aidan straightened. "In addition, someone had picked it, so I have to tell Lachance to check this area. Will there be a problem with that?" Aidan examined Mélisande and the butler.
"Non, Monsieur! None what so ever." Samuel bowed slightly his head.
"Can I see?" Mélisande approached Aidan, a hint of excitement in her voice. "How can you tell that it was picked?"
"You see the faint scratch marks over at the top edge of the keyhole?" Aidan directed the light beam to the door. "I think the forensic team will find more marks inside."
Mélisande had lowered herself beside Aidan and squinted at the lock. She nodded then turned to Samuel.
"What do you think? It is scratched." Concern shrouded Mélisande’s face.
"It was a zoo in here last night." Samuel shrugged. "There is no way to know what happened. Commandant Lachance will figure this out, or Monsieur Carver here." The butler reassured his mistress with undisputable confidence as he helped her up. "Don’t worry!"
Aidan felt a small pang of jealousy, as he felt an unspoken exchange between the two.
"And where is the library?" He interjected, partially to interrupt the intimate moment between butler and mistress.
"This way, Monsieur." Samuel led them back towards the foyer.
"Could those marks have been made by anything other than lock picking or maybe weeks ago?" Mélisande studied the former thief.
"Unfortunately, no. They are fresh. With time, especially with regular use, the marks fade away."
"I see… And why did you want to start here, rather than upstairs?"
"Just because this seems the best place to get to the second floor," he whispered in confidence.
"You mean; you would go through here if you were to break-in to the vault?" Mélisande guessed and Aidan had to laugh.
"Most likely, yes. Are you planning a career as a detective, Mademoiselle? You would be great at it. You got more out of me in 5 minutes than Lachance in an hour of interrogation."
"Lachance had interrogated you? As a suspect?" Her eyes had widened with dismay as they rounded the corner.
"Long story…" Aidan turned his attention to the butler, who had halted in the hallway.
"The library." Samuel’s stance was professional as he swung the door open.
Aidan peeked into the room without entering. The walls were almost entirely covered in bookshelves. He immediately knew that this was another place of stashed valuables. Books, some with very old covers, weighted down every inch of the shelves. There was again luxurious seating throughout, a desk and even an old record player. Mélisande entered, motioning him in. She made her way to the window seat.
"Please, bring us some refreshments," Mélisande instructed Samuel, who hesitated an instant, obviously not comfortable with leaving her alone in the company of a thief. "So, here is where I was when not at the party," she said once the butler left, playing with her engagement ring. "Funny how all my family jewels are gone, but this thing is still here," she whispered, then recollecting herself she looked up at Aidan and pasted on a smile.
"I’m sorry for what had happened," Aidan said softly.
He had not missed the deep sadness in her tone or the dark shadow that had flashed in her gaze, just a moment ago. Feeling her discomfort, he walked about the room, giving the heiress a bit of space, reading the titles and trying to guess the value of each volume.
"I think in a way I am glad that they are gone. There was always too much trouble surrounding them… Maybe life will be easier now," she admitted heaving a sigh.
"Your father said you were with him when he discovered the theft. Why was he there?"
"I was to give him the earrings so he could return them into the vault." Mélisande laughed bitterly.
"I thought you said this was your house," Aidan frowned.
"Yes, it is… Strange, is it not?" She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, in an effort to minimize the gravity of the situation.
Samuel entered, with two glasses of sparkling water on a tray, putting an end to the conversation.
"I hope you like peach!" She brightened slightly, distracted for an instant from her gloomy thoughts.
Aidan took a sip of the refreshingly cool drink, as his attention continued roaming the room. His eyes were drawn to the rounded gramophone with its handle for winding-up. He couldn’t help but wonder whether there was anything in this house that was modern, other than plumbing, electricity, and of course, the vault.
"Are you all done, Monsieur?" Samuel stared pointedly at the beverage.
"I would like to see the other entrance to this passage and the back staircases if I may." Aidan returned the empty glass on the tray.
"Of course! Where should we start, the third floor?" The heiress teased.
"This time, let's go floor by floor, shall we?" Aidan winked at the
young woman.
All three went up, in silence using the stairways at the back of the house. To Aidan’s disbelief, there wasn’t any visible disturbance to the area surrounding the access to the servant's stairs. His gut instinct screamed that this was the best way in, so there should have been some sign of intrusion here.
"Would either one of you have the key, by any chance?" Aidan asked.
"I do!" Samuel pulled out a set of keys and searched for the right one, while Aidan slipped on a latex glove.
The thief unlocked the door and swung it open. In front of them stood a dark, empty landing. Aidan ran the flashlight across the walls and overhead, stopping the beam on a vent cover just below the ceiling.
Meeting Mélisande’s green gaze, he threw her his thousand watts smile.
Chapter 6
After meeting in the second-floor parlor, Kárpáti, Lachance, Aidan and the Belmonts went back to the main floor library. It was agreed that part of the evidence sorting will be conducted at the house, so that word would not leak of the robbery. In cases such as this one, it was possible that no one would notice the theft for several days at least, and that was what they wanted the robber to think. Mélisande had excused herself again, to check on the progress of the inventory, but her father stayed with the men.
"The door to the servant’s staircase had been picked on the main floor. It is safe to assume that it is how the thief gained access to the upper level. I found a vent shaft in the stairwell, it is likely that he didn’t need to enter the hall to get into the vault." Aidan paced the room as he shared his findings. "I also think, Mr. Belmont you would have known if the vault had been accessed through the room, as you have an entry tracker on the sliding bookcases if I’m correct?"
"Yes, I do." Belmont had the decency to blush. "No one had; I had checked." He paused then added. "I have to monitor the vault. There are just too many staff crawling around this place." Realizing that his comments weren’t putting him in the best of light, he sat down.
"Hm… I will put a team on the staircase." Lachance motioned to a man in uniform. "Who has keys?" He added as the officer approached.