I had seldom been so happy as I had been as of late, and I didn’t intend to give that up. We needed to talk about what had occurred.
“Are we just going to pretend as though last night didn’t happen?” I asked at last.
“I would much rather proceed that way,” he said lightly, “but I don’t suppose that’s what you have in mind.”
I stopped walking and turned to face him. “You realize I’m still angry with you. The fact that you’ve given me a monkey doesn’t change anything.” Had that absurd sentence really come from my mouth?
“I’m sorry you’re angry, darling,” he said. “I promise not to leave your side this evening.”
“That isn’t the point,” I said. “I don’t need you to dance attendance on me. I don’t care if you go to your gambling clubs or make ridiculous wagers, but there’s something that you’re not telling me, and I want to know what it is.”
“You’re very beautiful,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Especially when you’re angry.”
“Milo, I will not be condescended to.”
“I need you to trust me, Amory,” he said, his expression suddenly much more serious than it had been a moment ago. I looked into his eyes, wishing as I always did that I could tell what he was thinking.
I sighed. “You make it very difficult.”
“I know. But I promise I shall tell you everything in good time.”
“But I…”
It was just then that I saw Beryl Belanger turn the corner and begin walking our way, pushing a pram.
“There she is,” I whispered, my grip tightening on his arm. “Act naturally.”
“I always act naturally,” he said.
“Yes, you’re right,” I replied. “That’s the trouble.”
I walked away from him before he could reply.
“Good afternoon, Madame Belanger,” I called.
She looked up sharply, her expression slightly wary, but she smiled when she saw that it was me. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Ames. It’s good to see you again,” she said with what seemed to be sincerity.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I said. “May I introduce you to my husband, Milo?”
“How do you do?” she said. I noticed that, even newly widowed, she was not immune to the impact of Milo’s good looks. I thought she flushed a little as he smiled at her.
“It was such a lovely morning, my husband and I thought that we might just take a stroll around the garden,” I told her.
“Yes, this is a lovely park,” she said. “I come here often.” It seemed to me that she was a bit uneasy. Though she was facing me, her eyes occasionally swept the park behind me. Was she, as I had suspected, waiting for her lover? It didn’t seem likely that he would approach us when we were talking to her.
“This must be your daughter,” I said, looking down at the child in the pram. The young girl was the image of her mother, but with dark hair and large, dark eyes like the Belangers.
“Yes, this is Seraphine,” she said, smiling easily for the first time.
“Hello, Seraphine,” I said.
“Hello, madame,” she replied sweetly.
“She’s lovely,” I told Beryl.
“Thank you.”
“I want to walk, Maman,” the child said, raising her arms to be lifted from the pram. Beryl picked her up and set her down on the ground and Seraphine took a few steps down the path.
“Don’t wander far, Seraphine,” Beryl told her, as she turned back to us. “I do hope you’re enjoying your stay in Paris.”
“Oh, yes, it has been wonderful,” I said. “I’m very fond of Paris.” I looked at Milo with what I hoped might pass for an adoring gaze. “We honeymooned here, so I feel rather sentimental about it.”
“Yes,” she said. “I, too, thought it very romantic when I came here as a new bride.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I hope I haven’t brought up distressing memories.”
“No,” she said, smiling a bit sadly. “I enjoy thinking of those days. I like to talk about Helios. It makes me feel close to him. I have clung to the memories these past few days.”
“How was it that you met your husband?” I inquired. I supposed it might be a bit intrusive of me to ask, but she seemed in the mood to talk about it and I was very curious to know about her relationship with her much older, wealthy husband.
“We met at the beach in Southsea,” she said. “I lived there, you see, and Helios was in town meeting with someone. I liked to take long walks along the shore, to think about things. One day I was walking, not paying attention where I was going, and I bumped directly into him.” She smiled a little at the recollection, and I thought again how pretty she was when the somberness left her face. “I might have gone on walking, but there was something about him that captured my interest. It’s difficult to explain. Helios was so very alive. If you had ever met him, you would know what I meant. There was something so dazzling, so passionate about him. One had only to spend a few moments in his company to know that he was something very special.”
It was much the same that I had heard from Madame Nanette about Helios Belanger. I found myself wishing, not for the first time, that I had been able to meet him.
“He was not the type of man I expected to marry,” she said bluntly. “As a girl one doesn’t picture oneself married to a man so much older. But the more that I began to know him, the more I began to realize that he was a man with whom I could be very happy.”
I was a bit surprised to hear this. From what Madame Nanette had told us about his strong-willed, even domineering, ways, I would have thought that such a thing would not make a young woman happy.
It was almost as though she had read my mind. “Oh, he was difficult at times,” she said, “but there was a kindness in him that never wavered. I loved him dearly.”
It was not perhaps a declaration of passion, but I could not help but believe that there had been some sort of love between them.
“Excuse me a moment, will you, ladies?” Milo said suddenly. “I think I’ve seen someone I know.”
He walked away, leaving us alone, and disappeared around a bend in the path. I didn’t think it likely that he had spotted anyone. More likely he had wanted to give me time to speak to Beryl Belanger about her marriage.
Beryl watched him go. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but I had always thought to marry someone charming and handsome like your husband. When I met Helios, however, it ceased to matter to me that he was older than I was. I suppose our romance was viewed as unusual to some, but that never bothered me. I have always found it is useless to worry about what people say, don’t you think so?” It might have been a rhetorical question, but I suddenly wondered if she had seen Milo’s name in the gossip columns.
“Yes,” I agreed. “It really is useless to worry about such things.”
It seemed now that she had begun confiding in me, she was finding it difficult to stop.
“It hasn’t always been easy. My … stepsons are difficult at times.” She flushed. “And I think that Cecile resents me for taking her father from her. They were very close. I don’t suppose it helps matters that I am a year younger than she.”
No, I thought. I didn’t suppose that helped at all.
“I think she is quite lovely,” she said. “It’s just that she is so very hard to talk to. We don’t have much in common at all. I’m afraid I had a rather traditional upbringing. Cecile was raised to think like a man. She doesn’t enjoy any of the same things I do.”
I imagined Cecile felt much the same way. This quiet, mild-mannered woman could be of very little interest to her.
“I know she compared me to her mother. Perhaps Helios did, too. More than once he called me ‘Elena’ by mistake. I sometimes wondered if he wished I was she.”
Beryl laughed suddenly, a bit self-consciously. “You must forgive me for going on so. It’s just lovely to speak to an Englishwoman,” she said. “There are days when I miss speaking in my native tongue.
France is a lovely country, but nothing compares to one’s homeland.”
“Have you been to England recently?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Helios didn’t much care for England. He preferred that we remain at home. I wanted to show Seraphine my native land, of course, but he said that we would do that when she was older.”
“Well, if you are ever in London, I should love to have you for tea,” I said.
She smiled, seemingly with more gratitude than the simple invitation merited. “I hope that I shall be able to travel to London again someday soon.”
It was then I noticed Milo was coming back in our direction and carrying Seraphine. I felt a strange little flutter in my stomach at the sight of it. In all honesty, I had long had reservations about Milo’s suitability for fatherhood, but he looked quite natural with a child in his arms.
He was conversing with her in a pleasant tone, and she seemed completely absorbed in what he had to say, nodding her head and pointing to something in the distance.
“Seraphine decided to go for a walk alone,” he said when he reached us, setting her down. “We happened to cross paths on my way back and she agreed to accompany me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ames,” said Beryl. “I’m afraid that I was so engrossed in conversation that I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Seraphine and I are quite good friends already,” Milo said.
She beamed up at him. I was not at all surprised that he had been able to charm the child. It seemed he was a favorite with women of all ages.
“Yes, well, I suppose we should be getting along now,” Beryl said. “It’s nearly time for luncheon.”
She picked up Seraphine and put her back in the pram. “It was lovely to see you again, Mrs. Ames. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”
Then Cecile hadn’t told her that we were coming to dinner.
“As a matter of fact,” I said. “Cecile has invited us to dine with you this evening.”
“Oh,” she said, doing a poor job of concealing her surprise. “That will be lovely. Until tonight, then.”
She turned and walked unhurriedly away, but I almost had the feeling that she was trying desperately not to look around, as though she didn’t want us to know that she was looking for someone.
I turned to Milo as we left. “What do you think of her?” I asked.
“I don’t believe for a moment that she loved him,” he said.
I couldn’t entirely agree. “She seems very much touched by his death,” I said. “I can’t help but feel that he meant something to her.”
“I’m sure he did,” Milo said, his tone holding more than a hint of sarcasm.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“I mean that she seemed rather overanxious to share her feelings with you, a perfect stranger. Laying it on a bit thick, I’d say.”
It was a possibility. But it was also possible that she was what she seemed to be: a young, lonely widow without anyone in whom she could confide.
“I believe she cared for Monsieur Belanger. I’m quite sure that there is sorrow in her eyes.”
“It isn’t sorrow,” Milo said. “It’s guilt.”
I was surprised by this assessment. I wanted to argue, but the more I thought about it the more I thought that he might be right.
“Don’t forget she came here to meet her lover,” he added.
“So perhaps she fell into a relationship with someone and feels guilty about it. That doesn’t mean she killed him,” I said. “I don’t think her as mercenary as you do. In fact, she told me that she was at first rather reluctant to marry him.”
“A lie, of course,” Milo said.
“You don’t know that.”
I considered myself a very good judge of character, though, admittedly, Milo had perhaps been exposed to more of the darker side of human nature. I supposed it was possible that he could see something in Beryl Belanger that I did not.
“I don’t know it,” he admitted. “But I certainly don’t believe she’s all that she seems. Granted, she makes a pretty picture, all wide eyes and dimples.”
“You distrust her because of the way she looks?”
“I distrust her because of the way she uses her looks,” he corrected. “She is very aware of her best features and knows how to use them.”
“The same may be said of you,” I replied.
He flashed a smile at me. “Some would say I am not to be trusted either.”
I rolled my eyes. “Besides the fact that she has dimples, what evidence is there that she and Helios Belanger were not happy in their marriage?”
“They kept separate rooms. Remember: she was not with him when he died.”
I did not remind him that there had been a time when we had kept separate rooms. Then again, perhaps that was a point in his favor as far is his argument went. Our marriage had not been in a good state at that point.
The fact remained that she was rumored to have a lover and had been left quite a lot of money.
“There’s one more thing of note,” he said.
“Oh, what’s that?”
“When I said I spotted a friend, it was, in fact, a familiar face who turned and left when he rounded the corner and saw us.”
“Her lover, perhaps?” I asked. “Who was it?”
“That’s the interesting part. It was Herr Muller.”
17
WAS IT POSSIBLE that Beryl Belanger was having an affair with the sculptor who had been designing the perfume bottle for her husband? If so, it might be an added motive for both of them. Herr Muller had seemed quite taken with Angelique, but he had also mentioned that he had thought of sculpting Beryl. Could it be that they had formed a relationship? I had a hard time picturing the two of them in a torrid affair, but stranger things had happened.
That didn’t address one aspect of the mystery, however. If they had done it, where did the missing perfume formula come into play? Had they planned the murder so they could be together and then seized the opportunity to take the formula? It seemed unlikely. The two motives just didn’t fit together. There was still, I supposed, the vague possibility that the missing formula was unrelated to the murder. One thing was certain: no matter which way I turned, there were more questions than answers.
I didn’t share these thoughts with Milo as we returned to the hotel. We had not had the opportunity to sort out our differences, and, though I felt we might have discovered something important on our walk in the park, I was not feeling especially communicative.
We entered the lobby and Milo stopped at the desk, and the clerk handed him a slip of paper, which he read and put in his pocket. There might have been nothing to it, but my suspicions were already aroused by his recent behavior, and his words once we reached our room confirmed that something was afoot.
“I need to go out for a while, darling,” he said. “Do you mind?”
“No,” I replied. “But you do remember that Madame Nanette is coming to have tea with us.”
“I may not be back by then,” he said. “You’ll make my excuses?”
“Certainly,” I said lightly, though I was a bit surprised that he would so easily dismiss plans with Madame Nanette, given how highly he regarded her. I hoped this didn’t mean he meant to neglect our other plans as well.
“You haven’t forgotten that we’re having dinner with the Belangers this evening?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “I am hoping that one of them will let slip that they killed their father and we can lay the thing to rest.”
I wasn’t sure what had brought on this flippancy. It wasn’t unlike him to be glib, of course, but I had the growing impression that he was much less concerned about the case than he had been. Whether it had to do with whatever he was hiding or if he was merely losing interest, I had yet to determine.
“What will you do until tea, darling?” he asked.
“I daresay I’ll find something to amuse myself,” I replied. I felt his gaze on me
and met it with a smile. After our conversation this morning, he had likely expected to encounter more resistance.
“Very well,” he said. “I shall see you this evening.”
He left, and I wasted no time. If Milo was going to do things on his own, there was no reason that I should not. I went to the telephone and picked up the receiver.
“Can you please place a call for me? I’m trying to reach a gentleman named André Duveau.”
* * *
WE MET AT a café not far from the hotel. He was waiting at a table inside when I arrived.
“I was pleased that you rang me up, Amory,” he said when we had settled into our seats. “It is not often I have luncheon invitations from beautiful women.”
This I did not believe for a moment. I was fairly certain that André Duveau was not lacking when it came to the attentions of women.
“I’m pleased you were free,” I said. “Milo had other business to attend to today, and I do hate to eat alone.”
He smiled. “It is much more pleasant to eat with pleasant company.”
We ordered our meal and fell into comfortable conversation. As always, I found André to be charming company. There was something very unguarded about him, an easy friendliness that one did not often encounter. I felt as though I had known him much longer than a fortnight.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Paris?” he asked as our food arrived and we began to eat.
“Oh, yes, I’m always very happy to be here.”
“How long do you intend to stay?” I suddenly had the impression that there was a reason he was asking me these questions beyond polite interest. I realized that it was entirely possible that, given their continued friendship, Cecile Belanger had mentioned my interest in perfume to him. Did he think it suspicious, given the timing? If so, I needed to try to set his mind at rest.
“Perhaps a week or so. I have commissioned Cecile Belanger to make a custom perfume,” I said.
“Yes, she told me,” he said. So I had been correct. It seemed to me as though there was something watchful in his gaze as he looked across the table at me. I almost felt as though he was waiting for me to confess something to him.
“I suppose you think it’s rather frivolous of me,” I said with what I hoped was a rueful smile.
The Essence of Malice Page 16