Scorpios and Sapphires

by L. B. Simon

  Mélisande shut the vent close and scrambled down to the floor. She sat down at the table just as the door opened.

  "Mademoiselle, my apologies!" The man looked at her, then at the vent; Mélisande blushed as if caught red-handed. "Our search has been completed." He sat down next to her.

  "Have you found what you were searching for?" Her body tensed, a shadow of challenge flashing in her eyes.

  "Yes actually, I found exactly what I hoped to find; nothing incriminating, but I must follow all leads, you understand that? It is not personal." He gave her a reassuring glance.

  "Is someone trying to frame me?" She demanded.

  "Possibly," he shrugged, "or it could be a mere coincidence."

  "Maman always said that there is no such thing as coincidences." Mélisande lifted her head up high.

  "She did, didn’t she? She was a wise woman." Lachance’s face softened, his vision blurring slightly as if recalling a pleasant memory.

  "I can’t go up there… Not until I know what is going on." She clenched her hands.

  "Well, you can leave the house, as long as I know where you are staying, and that you do not skip town." He played with a napkin.

  "It's just that I have nowhere to go…" She admitted, her eyes darkening. "All this wealth, but no real friends that I can trust right now… I think I will never trust anyone ever again!" She declared in a hushed tone.

  "There is a wonderful little hotel, the Ruslan, named after the Russian Opera, Ruslan and Lyudmila. My mother always stays there, when she visits. The staff are discrete and very good." Lachance suggested.

  "Am I really free to walk out that door and not come back?" Hope filled her entire being.

  "Like I said, as long as I know where you are; yes."

  "I am going to steal a photo of Maman." She balled her fists and stared at the man with defiance. "Just so you know, of my crime, it will be in my possession if you arrest me. Apparently, nothing in this house is mine…"

  Lachance raised an eyebrow, but nodded gravely, as he fished in his pocket.

  "Hm, Aidan was right; you are a lousy thief!" He handed her the teardrop earrings and her scorpion necklace. "You should stay on the straight and narrow. Anything else you wish to confess?"

  "Yes! If someone is setting me up, I will make them pay!" Bloodthirst clouded her delicate features. "And thank you for these. I can keep them, yes?"

  "They are yours, little vengeful Scorpion!" He seemed to peer into her soul as their eyes connected. "You remind me so much of your mother, not only your looks but your spirit too." He patted her hand paternally.

  "You knew Maman?" She wondered in surprise.

  "Yes, a long time ago. She was a breath of fresh air, sunlight after a long gloomy night." He placed his hand on his heart, a bitter smile on his lips.

  "We should talk about her sometimes; Papa can’t bear the mention of her…" Mélisande exhaled heavily, then changed the subject. "How can I find Monsieur Carver? If I leave."

  "He will find you, don’t worry. You were planning to go for a jog?"

  "I run to the Jardin du Luxembourg every morning." She nodded.

  He pulled out a telephone card.

  "To call a cab, and me, if you choose not to come back here. Leave your cell and credit cards behind, if you want to get away and not be traced by your family. Good luck! Here is my number, keep in touch!" He handed her his business card and gave her a warning glare, as he got to his feet. "I will be seeing you soon."

  "Merci!" She thanked the man, and he left.

  Chapter 18

  Mélisande sat on the couch staring out the window. She had engraved the Claudel’s lovers into her memory, as she was leaving her home, not sure of when she will see them again. A framed photo of her mother under her shirt, some cash tucked into the zipper pocket of her pants and an I.D., was all she took as she left.

  Now she was in a soulless hotel suite, with a bedroom and living room; beautifully decorated, but with replica paintings of nameless artists and furniture used by thousands of strangers before her. She missed bitterly her rooms and the coziness they conveyed.

  The Christmas photo of her sitting on her mother’s lap when she was seven, stood in front of her, on the coffee table. It did nothing to elevate her mood, on the contrary, it filled her heart with even more sadness.

  The staff at the Ruslan Hotel were indeed very kind and helpful. She had arrived in the early afternoon, after making a stop at the bank and taking emergency money out of her safe deposit box. She went to Chanel on Avenue Montagne and bought two outfits, a headscarf, a large purse, and sunglasses. She changed into one, hiding her locks under the scarf and finished the ensemble with the glasses.

  A woman at the front desk greeted her warmly, then informed her that not only they had a room available but that she had been expected. Mélisande had to wonder why would Lachance go the extra mile to help her.

  A sharp knock on the door disrupted her gloomy reverie.

  "Come in!" She called out in French without rising.

  She had ordered a bottle of wine and had requested room service to bring it in. She heard the door unlatch, but kept on staring out, not wishing for any human interaction. A cart was wheeled in, then came the distinct sound of tinkling cutlery. This, at last, got her attention.

  "Excuse me, but you got the wrong room. I only ordered wine. Excuse me!" She repeated more loudly, as the server didn’t seem to hear her. "Wrong order!"

  The man faced her, and she found herself staring at Aidan.

  "Forgive me but I took the liberty to order a meal to go with your wine." He smiled mischievously.

  Tension left her body.

  "Arsène Lupin! I thought I would never see you again…" She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck, tears running down her face.

  "I made you a promise, didn’t I?" He lifted her hand, wrapping the bracelet around her wrist, and fastened the lock. "You can wear it in here, but no one from outside can see it!"

  "This is incredible! I am speechless!" She was laughing through her tears, cradling the bracelet to her chest. "The Scorpio! You got it back to me. Thank you!"

  "Come, let’s eat." He walked her to the dining table, pulling out a chair for her. "I am starving, and I have a feeling that you hadn’t eaten a thing today."

  "I do not think I can eat," she admitted.

  "But you must! I brought for you the most exquisite high cuisine! A delicacy of the likes you had never tasted before."

  He placed a plate covered by a dome in front of her and another one for himself, then filled two decanters with red wine. As he lifted the lid, Mélisande began laughing; the dish had a burger and fries on it.

  "Don’t laugh! You had never tasted burgers like these!" Aidan scowled.

  "How did you find me?" She dipped a fry into a creamy white sauce.

  "Olga from the front desk told me you were here, as I came in." He sat down, revealing his own burger, and picking it up.

  "What do you mean?" She frowned, her hand freezing mid-air.

  "This is my hotel, compliments of Europa United Insurance." Aidan glanced at her. "I happen to be staying in the next room. You didn’t ask about me?" He put down his burger, he too taken aback.

  "I had no idea that you were here. Commandant Lachance recommended this hotel, so I came here, not knowing where else to go."

  "Ah! Lachance; that explains it all! He is a very sneaky man!" Aidan smiled then became serious. "I am glad that you are here. I felt bad leaving the house without seeing you, but Samuel said you were out, and I couldn’t stay there any longer."

  "Samuel!" Mélisande rose suddenly, the pulse in her neck pushing fast against her skin. "He does not know that I am not coming back. He will worry…"

  Aidan grabbed her hand, keeping her from rushing to the phone.

  "Lachance will let him know that you are okay if needed."

  "You do not trust Samuel?" She inquired, feeling the hair on her arms bristle.

  "If someone
is setting you up, then it could be anyone; Samuel, François or whoever else is dear to you." He let her go.

  "The ominous if…" Mélisande heaved a sigh, her throat tightening. "You will not trust me until this is solved, will you? Either way, I thank you for taking my defense this morning. It meant a lot to me. I might be in a prison cell now if not for you." The memory of how she was betrayed washed over her.

  "How do you know about this morning?" Aidan’s stare bore into her.

  "I was held in the breakfast room while my quarters were searched. The ventilation system is not only for robbing vaults; you know?" She clenched her jaw. "The first officer to enter my room went straight to the window and looked under the pillow where I kept this." She motioned to her wrist. "Someone knew exactly where I hid it!"

  "How about we have a lovely dinner, then get down and dirty." He suggested and Mélisande’s eyes widened. "Get your mind out of the gutter, young lady!" Aidan chastised in mock horror. "I meant: get down to business. We have a mystery to solve. But first, eat!"

  Mélisande’s face hardened with resolution, and she picked up her burger.

  "Oh mon Dieu! My God; this is so good!" She closed her eyes, a smile spreading across her face.

  "So, who is this Arsène Lupin you mentioned earlier?"

  "He is a fictional character by Maurice Leblanc. Un gentleman cambrioleur."

  "So, I am a gentleman thief, now?" Aidan lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  "You did return my bracelet…" She raised her wrist again, admiring the Scorpion.

  "And you thought that I would keep it? Tsk-tsk-tsk…" Aidan grinned and made sure that the rest of the dinner they only talked about light, inconsequential things.

  Chapter 19

  "All right! Now we need to start on our investigation." Aidan threw his napkin onto the empty plate and got to his feet. "My room is part of this one when needed, so there is a door in the foyer connecting the two. Would you mind if I accessed my suite through here? I would like to avoid attracting unnecessary attention to us whenever possible."

  Mélisande nodded, then followed him to the foyer. He swung the bar door guard open and went into the adjacent room, which was smaller, but comfortable; with a queen size bed, two bedside tables, a writing desk, a closet with shelves and a chair.

  Aidan had one suitcase in a corner, next to which stood two flip charts with paper and markers. Aidan grabbed these and carried them to Mélisande’s living room. They moved a couch away from the wall, took down a still life painting, fixed the room a little so the furniture wouldn’t be in their way, and set up the flip charts.

  "Let’s start with the facts. When was the vault installed?" He rolled up his sleeves and uncapped a black marker.

  "The installation was completed four weeks ago."

  He wrote it down in neat, crisp print letters. Beneath he drew an arrow then wrote: reason bank robberies. On the other flip chart, under the heading of follow-up, he marked down the same words.

  "There were forty-five jewels stored in the vault, correct?"

  Mélisande nodded in response.

  "Forty-four were stolen by the real thieves?"

  "Forty-three; I was wearing one of the earrings."

  "Ah yes! We also seem to have two back to back robberies in one night." Aidan continued jotting down in bullet point format things that were important. "Evidence points to you, with hair and fiber in the vault which may have been left there by you or was planted deliberately by a third party."

  "The hair could not have been trapped in the sapphires," she dropped her gaze, "after each handling, the jewels are cleaned before being locked away."

  Aidan threw her a strange look.

  "What?" She blinked at him, unsure of what was it she had said to make him stare at her in such a way.

  "You are way too frank for your own good!" He shook his head. "We also have a witness who knew the exact hiding place of the bracelet that you had taken. When did you begin plotting the break-in?"

  "Two weeks ago, following the première."

  "How did you get the sapphires, if your father refused to let you wear your mother’s jewels?" Aidan probed bluntly.

  Mélisande hesitated, blushing vividly.

  "I can’t help you if you won’t answer my questions…"

  "You already called me manipulative; this will only prove you right."

  Aidan faced her, his movements edgy.

  "What I said in the vault was in the vault. This is a judgment free zone. I don’t care about anything else other than getting to the bottom of this. So, either you talk, or we are done." He put down the marker.

  "I invited Terrence Hawthorn for dinner and mentioned how the sapphires would look devastating with the dress he helped me pick out. Papa had little choice after that." She held her head up high, daring Aidan to criticize her.

  "Thank you," was all he said, then continued writing on the chart. "Good thing that you did that! It’s enough to throw doubt on your culpability. Ok, let's move on; who was in on your plans?"

  "Only François and Samuel. No one else."

  "Who knew that you kept things under your window seat?"

  "Only Samuel and me, as far as I know."

  "Who has access to your rooms?"

  "Samuel and Fifi."

  The maid’s name went up beneath Samuel’s.

  "Who cleans your hair brush?"

  "Um…" Mélisande struggled for words for an instant. "Fifi does." She blinked trying to regain her composure.

  She had obviously not expected the question and her mind was taking her in an unpleasant direction.

  "So, she could have planted the hair or procured a sample for whoever left it in the vault. Did you rip your dress at any time during the evening or the morning of the party?"

  "No, I do not believe so." Her brow furrowed.

  "Did you wear the red dress when you broke into the vault?"

  "It's an haute couture piece! There is no way I would have risked it in the tunnels; it would have never survived it!"

  "And the fight? If you were in the vault, how did you stage it?"

  "The gramophone…" She blushed vividly. "We had pre-recorded the argument. Samuel made sure that it was working while we were in the vault."

  "What was Samuel’s role in the robbery?"

  "He was mostly the look out." Mélisande dropped her stare to the floor. "He monitored the hall and the guests, so we wouldn’t get caught."

  Aidan nodded thoughtfully. He was impressed by the heiress and the elaborate plan she had concocted with her sidekicks.

  "What is between Fifi and you?" He went on.

  "I do not understand what you mean?" She stood facing him, confusion on her face.

  "You were watching her when you caught her in your hall, the other night," Aidan explained. "There was some tension between you two."

  "She is nosy, and I think she is keeping tabs on me," Mélisande heaved a sigh.

  "For whom?"

  "Papa… I think. How else did he know that we had been to his office? She must have been listening at the door. There was absolutely no reason for her to be upstairs. And I think that she might be sleeping with Papa, but I am not sure."

  Aidan put a question mark next to the last statement; then added Fifi and Belmont’s names with an arrow pointing from one to the other on the second list.

  "You said you will have access to your jewels after marriage?" He tore off the first page and using scotch tape, fixed the sheet to the wall.

  "Yes, I become independent upon my marriage and gain access to my whole inheritance without any further interference from Papa."

  "Have you set a date?" He kept his back to her now, marking down terms of inheritance to the follow-up list.

  "No."

  Aidan raised his head when she didn’t go on.

  "Any particular reason for that?"

  "Other than we do not wish to marry each other?" She blurted. "We grew up together like siblings, following the untimely death of Fran
çois’s mother." Here she stopped, her face tense.

  "Why won’t you marry someone of your own choosing?"

  "I haven’t met anyone so far with whom I wished to spend the rest of my life." Her voice dropped to barely audible.

  "I see. And who wants you to marry François?" Aidan half turned to her.

  "Our fathers. It is really very medieval; it is like joining two countries or a political alliance for them."

  "When did you get engaged?" Aidan asked, a frown creasing his brow.

  "Six months after Maman passed away. I was sixteen." She walked to the window and stared at the cloudless inky sky.

  "How did she die?" His voice softened, knowing the pain of losing a loving parent.

  "Her car brakes, they did not work…" She choked up.

  "I’m sorry." Aidan wrote down something in shorthand. "François’s mother, what was her name?"

  Chapter 20

  Mélisande whirled on him, her pupils dilated. Aidan sighed; he had hoped that she wouldn’t guess what he was up to.

  "Two friends, both widowers… I need to check every single detail in order to disentangle this web," he added kindly.

  "Karine Renaud," she murmured and tried to blink away the unexpected moisture that threatened to run down her cheeks.

  Aidan refilled their wine glasses, taking a break which Mélisande needed right now. He brought her the glass and followed her gaze out the window.

  "I love Paris at night…" He smiled.

  "Yes, it is beautiful!" She glanced at his wrist. "That is an interesting watch." The piece reminded Mélisande vaguely of a snake swallowing its tail.

  "It was custom made for me by a client who is a watchmaker and designer in Montreal." Aidan ran his thumb over the coiling strap. "Do you want to stop for tonight or keep going?"

  "Let’s get this over with now." She had put up her walls again, and resolve hardened her features.