“Yes,” I agreed. “I’m afraid it is true.”
“How little they know us,” she said.
“We have agreed to forgive each other,” Milo said, interrupting our newly developed camaraderie. “However, my wife is uneasy about Michel’s temper.”
“Yes,” I said, taking this cue. “I have heard that he is very unpredictable, even violent. He did not take our parting well, I’m afraid. I would hate for him to harm my husband.”
“Michel can be violent,” she agreed. “But in the heat of the moment. He is not one to plot and plan.”
“Are you sure about that? Michel once confided in my wife that he wanted to kill his father,” Milo lied smoothly. I was always a bit startled when I saw how easily untruths flowed from his lips. I sometimes worried about that particular skill.
“And now his father is dead,” she said. Her brows rose along with the corners of her lips. “I do not think Michel would kill anyone. He has a temper, yes, but he knows how to control it. I should think that if anyone would have wanted Helios Belanger dead, it would be Anton.”
“Anton?” I repeated. I was curious to hear her thoughts on the elder Belanger brother.
“He wanted everything his father had. Now he can have it. He has won his prize.”
“He has to share the company with Cecile,” I said. “That isn’t everything.”
“Parfumes Belanger is not the prize I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I said.
She laughed suddenly. “Oh. I see you mean what you say.” Her smiled broadened and her eyes glinted. “Then you don’t know. Anton Belanger is in love with his father’s wife.”
23
“ANTON IS IN love with Beryl?” I repeated. I was stunned. It was almost too incredible to be true. Yet the more I pictured sweet, pretty Beryl, the more I thought that she might be just the sort of person to win stoic Anton’s heart.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She laughed. “Quite sure. Michel told me about it more than once, how his brother watched her with sad eyes but was not man enough to do something about it.” I realized then why Michel had taunted Beryl in the drawing room that morning I had been at the house. He knew that his brother and stepmother had feelings for each other, that they met in secret in the park.
Suddenly I wondered if the motive for murder might have been under our noses the entire time.
“You will excuse me now,” she said.
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Thank you for your time.”
She gave me a half nod and then gave Milo one last smoldering look. “If there is anything else I can do for you, you have only to ask.”
Then she turned and walked away.
“I can see how she and Michel would be well matched,” I said.
“Are you ready, darling?” Milo asked, glancing at his wristwatch.
“Yes, I think we’ve learned all we’re going to,” I said. I wanted very much to question Milo about what I had learned about the nurse in Beauvais, but the crowded, noisy confines of this cabaret were not ideal for what I felt sure would develop into a heated conversation. I decided to hold my tongue for the time being.
Milo took my arm and we made our way through the crowd toward the door.
“It’s a good thing I came here tonight,” I said, as we walked out together into the cool night air. “I’m quite sure Angelique would have pounced upon you had you been alone.”
Milo steered me toward a cab. “I think much of what Angelique says is a show.” He smiled. “I did, however, receive a very interesting offer from the two young women I was speaking to at the table.”
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t care to hear the details, thank you,” I said.
Milo held the cab door open for me, and I slid inside. It was only then I realized that he didn’t intend to join me.
“Wait,” I said, before he could close the door. “Where are you going?”
“I have one more stop to make, darling. I’ll be home before long.”
He closed the door before I could protest, and, though I was half tempted to get out of the cab and confront him, I decided against it.
Let him do as he pleased. I would find out the truth one way or another.
* * *
I SLEPT DEEPLY and awoke with Milo beside me, having no recollection of his having come in. I supposed he had wandered in extremely late again, and I fought the urge to search through the pockets of his evening clothes, which were, once again, strewn about the room.
At least he was still coming home to our bed, I reasoned. I did not care to repeat those several months of our marriage when we had not slept in the same room.
I tried to remind myself that this current break in communication that we were experiencing was not indicative of any great rift in our marriage. Milo was notoriously uncommunicative about some things. Whatever he was keeping from me would be brought to light eventually.
If I expected to spend the day discussing the merits of the case with him, however, I was to be disappointed. It seemed he had decided to make up for his late nights at last, for he slept very late, and when he awoke he hurried me out to lunch where he avoided every mention of the case, save for one comment.
“I’ve tried to convince Madame Nanette to forget all of this and leave Paris,” he said, “but she won’t leave the child.”
I was surprised by this sentiment. “I wouldn’t have thought you inclined to give up so easily,” I said.
“Sometimes the best solution is to walk away,” he replied.
It seemed that he was doing his best to forget the reason we had come to Paris, and I could not help but feel a bit frustrated by his attitude.
“Milo,” I said suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had gone to see the nurse in Beauvais?”
As always, he gave no indication of surprise at my sudden question. It was no wonder he was such a marvelous card player.
“Because I didn’t learn anything of importance,” he said.
“Then why did you refuse to tell me when I asked you why you had gone there?”
“Because I was being very ill-tempered,” he replied. “I was unable to find her and didn’t learn anything. It wasn’t worth mentioning.”
He was lying. He had lied to my face that night he had come back from Beauvais, and he was doing it again now. There would be no reason to hide the truth from me if it was insignificant. So what was it that he had learned?
He changed the subject then, and I knew it would be useless to question him further at present. I was left feeling suspicious and dissatisfied.
My feelings were compounded as we reached the hotel and Milo was stopped by the concierge.
“A message for you, monsieur,” he said, handing Milo a slip of paper.
“Thank you.” Milo took the message and glanced at it.
“Anything important?” I asked.
“No,” he said, slipping the note nonchalantly into his pocket, and left it at that.
By the time we reached our room, I could no longer hold in my thoughts. “Milo, I think there are some things we need to discuss.”
“Are there?” he asked, taking a seat on the sofa. “I’m all ears.”
I looked down into his level gaze and almost lost my nerve. I had never been good when it came to confronting my husband, but I was learning that some things have to be said. “I want to know what you’ve been doing,” I said.
“Doing?”
“All these late nights and secret messages.”
He smiled. “I’m afraid you’re reading a bit too much into things.”
“I think I have a right to know where my husband spends his nights,” I said mildly.
“I thought you’d agreed to trust me.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to be kept in the dark.”
“That note was from an acquaintance. He mentioned a new gambling club to me,” he said. I didn’t believe him for a moment. Something about this did not ring true. I
suspected that it was something to do with Helios Belanger, and I wanted to know what it said.
“I thought you must know all the gambling clubs in Paris,” I said lightly.
“There may be one or two that have escaped my notice,” he said with an easy smile. “I may go out and have a look at it later this evening.”
He must have seen my doubtful expression, for his smile broadened and he added, “You needn’t look so suspicious, darling. Not every note is a secret missive. Sometimes a man just wants to spend his evening out and win his wife a monkey.”
He had presented Emile as a peace offering, but my good graces extended only so far. He clearly intended to keep hiding things from me. Well, this time I was going to find out.
I decided on my tactic at once.
“Very well,” I said. “I may go out tonight myself.”
I went into the bedroom. Trudy, in the course of making me up for my night at the cabaret, had lent me two gowns, and I put the second one on. It was silver lamé and much more risqué than the black one I had worn to meet Angelique, which was saying quite a lot. It was tightly fitted to the hip with thin straps and a neckline that plunged so low it was rendered practically superfluous. The skirt was long and clung to my legs as I moved back into the sitting room.
Milo was still sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette, and glancing over a newspaper.
“I think I shall wear this tonight,” I said.
His eyes came up and slowly ran the length of me, and I knew instantly that the gown had been a success.
“Where did you get that?”
“Do you like it?” I asked, turning so he could see it to its full advantage before walking toward him. “I daresay I shall be able to find something to amuse myself this evening. Perhaps I’ll go back to La Reine Bleue.”
A smile touched his lips. He knew what I was about, and yet the dress had had its desired effect. “I find the gambling club less appealing by the moment,” he said.
I smiled softly. “I’m glad to hear you say so.”
It was very hard to pretend I was feeling amorous when I was furious that he was hiding things from me, but I needed to do my best, and so I sat down on his lap. “It seems as though we’ve barely spent any time together since we arrived in Paris.”
“I am at your disposal, madam,” he said in a low voice, his eyes on mine even as his arms moved around me. “Though I’d like very much to know what you’re up to.”
I took his cigarette from between his fingers and leaned to put it in the ashtray. Then I reached up to slide one of my hands into his hair.
“What makes you think I’m up to something?” I asked softly as the fingers of my free hand moved to his jacket pocket.
“I’m certainly not complaining,” he murmured, before he lowered his mouth to mine.
I kissed him as my fingers closed around the paper in his pocket. Slowly, slowly, I began to ease it out. It was imperative that I not be caught. If he realized what I was doing, it would ruin everything.
The paper came free, and I held it up over his shoulder as he kissed my neck, trying to read it. It was written in a bold hand and contained only an address and the words “Tonight at ten o’clock.” The address seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. It was possible that it was, as he had told me, an invitation to a gambling club, but somehow I didn’t think so.
Just as I had folded the paper to slip it back into his pocket, he shifted me to push me back onto the sofa. Before I lost my balance and tumbled backward onto the cushions, I managed to slip the piece of paper into the crack of the sofa.
“You’re going to wrinkle my gown,” I protested as he leaned down to continue kissing me.
“The welfare of your gown is the very last thing on my mind at this moment,” he said.
I realized then that I had perhaps made an error in judgment. I had divested Milo of the mysterious note, but I was going to have a difficult time divesting myself of Milo. In all honesty, I was beginning to wonder if I actually wanted to. I had not exactly considered the repercussions of this plan.
It was at that moment that Winnelda chose to walk blithely into the room.
“Oh!” she cried, when she saw us entangled on the sofa. I tried to sit up, but Milo was not moving very quickly, and the skirt of my gown was caught beneath his knee.
“I’m sorry. I’ll just … shall I go? I’ll go,” Winnelda said, turning back toward the door.
“No, no, you needn’t go,” I said, managing to pull my skirt loose, roll inelegantly off the sofa, and rise to my feet. Milo unhurriedly took his seat on the sofa, completely unruffled.
I noticed that he was sitting on the side opposite of where I had stashed the note. I needed to get it back into his pocket before he noticed it was missing.
Winnelda turned back toward me, though she didn’t look up. Her face was crimson. “I’m sorry, madam,” she said, her gaze firmly planted on the floor. “I … I didn’t think about knocking. I suppose I ought to have…”
“It’s quite all right, Winnelda,” I said, quite sure my face must be as flushed as hers. “Mr. Ames and I were just … ah…” I faltered.
“In conference,” Milo supplied, the only one of us not the least bit embarrassed. “Is there something you need, Winnelda?”
“I … I … No. That is, I don’t … I came to bring Emile a treat. I brought him a macaron.”
I had forgotten all about Emile. I turned to where his cage was resting in the corner of the room. He was looking through the bars at us. If possible, I felt even more mortified realizing that we had had an audience the entire time.
“You may as well give it to him,” I said. I felt quite sure that Emile would not care for a macaron, but I was rather desperate to get us past our mutual discomfiture.
Winnelda went to the cage and opened the door. Before she could hand in Emile’s treat, he hopped out of the cage and bounded over to the sofa.
Almost before I realized what he was doing, he had reached his tiny paw into the crack between the sofa and the cushion and pulled out the paper I had hidden there.
He then walked across the cushions to Milo and handed it to him, chattering happily.
Traitorous little beast.
“What’s this?” Milo asked. He looked at it and his eyes came up to mine. I did my very best to feign surprise, but I knew how very difficult it was to fool Milo and I was not at all sure I succeeded.
“What is it?” I asked, hoping I sounded mildly curious and not guilty.
“My note,” he said, his eyes still on mine. “It must have fallen out of my pocket.”
“How very sweet of Emile,” I said.
“How clever he is!” Winnelda said, walking to the sofa. “Tell him I’ve bought him a treat, will you, Mr. Ames?”
Milo translated obligingly, and Winnelda gave Emile the macaron. He took it from her and brought it back to his cage where he began to eat it daintily.
“I’ll just be going now, shall I?” Winnelda asked. “Unless there’s anything you need?”
“She won’t be needing you, Winnelda,” Milo said, rising from the sofa and walking toward the door to see her out. “Rest assured, I shall tend to Mrs. Ames.”
“Very well,” she said. “If you’re sure?”
“Quite sure. Thank you.” He ushered her out, locked the door behind her, and turned back to me.
“Poor girl. I’m terribly embarrassed,” I said.
“It was bound to happen one day, the way she charges into rooms.”
“I suppose we were lucky it wasn’t Parks. He might have resigned on the spot.”
“Now. Where were we?” he asked, pulling me to him and kissing me.
Emile took the opportunity to screech loudly and clap his paws.
“Don’t, Milo,” I said, pulling away. “Emile is watching us.”
“I am not the least concerned with that monkey.”
I was glad of that. Perhaps he would forget that the monkey had discovered his purl
oined note. With any luck, Milo would believe it had fallen out of his pocket.
The telephone rang then, sparing poor Emile any more of our shocking behavior, and I moved out of Milo’s embrace as I went to answer it.
“Madame Ames?” said the voice on the other end of the line. “This is Cecile Belanger.”
“Oh, hello,” I said.
“I worked for most of the night, and I think I am nearly finished composing your perfume. I realize this is short notice, but I thought you might like to come and sample it.”
“I would like that very much,” I said, wondering what had spurred this sudden productivity. I had thought it would take much longer to finish developing the scent. I had certainly not expected it to be finished in a single night. “What time is convenient for you?”
“Would three o’clock be all right with you?”
I glanced at the clock. That was a little over an hour from now. “Yes, that would be fine.”
“Excellent. I shall see you then.”
I rang off and turned to Milo. “Cecile has nearly finished with my perfume. She wants me to come back to the house this afternoon.”
“It seems you are becoming very popular with the Belangers.”
“It may be a chance to learn something. I don’t know why, exactly, but I feel as though we are close. It’s as though the answer is right in front of me, and I just haven’t grasped it.”
“That may very well be,” he said without any particular enthusiasm.
“I may also be able to return that draft of the will,” I said. “I can only hope that it hasn’t been missed by now.”
“Well, in that case, I have an appointment of my own to keep. I daresay I’ll be back before you are.”
He kissed me deeply and then went out, and I stood for a moment looking thoughtfully at the door.
I had an uneasy feeling about Milo. Despite my best attempts to draw it out of him, I had learned nothing about his activities. I wondered what his appointment today might be, and I wondered even more where he was expected at ten o’clock tonight.
First things first, however. I went to the bedroom to change out of the silver gown into something more presentable. It was time to visit Cecile.
The Essence of Malice Page 22