She snorted as she threw the pillow aside. “Oh, is it?” She looked at me suspiciously. “You think we’re friends suddenly? I know you’re on Anaelle’s side. You think she’s perfect. But she’s not. She was a mistake. Our mother should have aborted her.”
My eyebrows rose. Every time I thought I’d seen the worst of Amitée, she said something even more horrific.
“But you won’t believe me, of course,” she went on, “because she’s poisoned you against me.” She sat on the divan at the foot of her bed and gave me a pointed glare.
I increased my charme to the point that a normal mortal would be swooning. “I am fond of Anaelle, but there’s no harm in that, is there? Can’t we be friends as well, ma chère?” I got up and sat next to her on the divan. Her glare wavered as I met her gaze.
“Anaelle said you’d been unwell, which I’m sorry to hear.” I hoped to draw her out and gain her trust. “Do tell me about it.”
Her will weakened and her lips parted as she thought to answer my question… and then she broke free. She stood up and took a step back. “What are you doing to me?” She shook herself and her gaze sharpened. “Who are you?”
Zut alors. I got up and slowly approached as I shushed her gently. “Ma chère… don’t be worried. Everything is all right.” I used my very strongest enchantement now. Another person would hardly be able to stand. “We are friends. We can talk, n’est-ce-pas?”
She whimpered, then animal panic flitted across her face, and suddenly she lashed out and hit me clumsily near my collarbone. “Get away from me!” she screamed. She hit me again, catching me on the shoulder, and tried for a third.
And that is where my good intentions came to an end—for we were about to have a scene on our hands that I could not explain away, and I had only one way to calm her. I caught her in my arms and took a delicious—and much deserved, I must say—draught from her neck. She let out a long breath and shivered as ecstasy overtook her. I took only a little, as my purpose was to settle her down and, secondarily, to get some access to her will.
I sat down on the divan and held her in a sitting position next to me as she began to recover. She blinked sleepily at me, and in her ragged expression I read the limited intelligence and brutality of a common animal. This person was lacking some essential part of who she should have been.
“Madame?” she said.
“Are you feeling well? You fainted.”
“Yes…” She blinked repeatedly.
I debated whether to press her now. I wanted to ask her about Satine, and of course I had many questions about Daisi. But I had perhaps done all I could for now. “You’re tired and you need to sleep. It’s time to get ready for bed.”
She murmured agreement, and I took my leave.
Out in the hallway, I leaned against the door and sighed, wishing things had gone differently.
The guard I had posted outside eyed me. “Everything all right inside, Madame? I heard raised voices for a moment.”
“All is well, thank you,” I said.
At least now that I had drawn from her, talking to her next time would be easier.
I checked my pocket watch. It was growing late… it was unlikely that the wedding guests would be down at the hotel bar at this hour. I would need to go tomorrow.
Tonight, I saw nothing I could accomplish other than keeping my business running smoothly… as always. I collected myself and headed out into the drawing room to do exactly that.
7
The next morning, when I woke and took my breakfast from Monsieur Georges, the briefing from the day butler, Monsieur Herbert, included the note, “Inspector Baudet reports the vial is water, yet the body contained poison, and a pinprick puncture was found on the victim’s neck. It is officially a murder.”
Poor Daisi… Not that a suicide wouldn’t have been pitiable enough…
Someone must have pressed a needle into Daisi’s neck just before she came into my maison… but why hadn’t she sounded an alarm, rather than carrying through the plan to fake her death? Too, she was escorted by Amitée, who would have seen any attack—and I still didn’t believe she had done the deed... although, on further thought, I was perfectly willing to believe that she had stepped aside and watched it happen.
The note went on to say, “The inspector has interviewed Mademoiselle Amitée and seen fit to release her from the premises. He apologizes that he was unable to speak with you beforehand.”
I cursed at that—both that she was no longer captive in my space and that I hadn’t been there for their conversation! I wrote a note and gave it to Monsieur Georges to have delivered to the commissariat central: "Did you learn anything of value from Amitée? Any suspects? Anything I may do to be helpful?”
How I hoped Inspector Baudet would come to Le Chat Rose again so that we could discuss the matter in person… both because it would be easier to compare notes, and because… though I hated to admit it to myself… I wanted so much simply to see him. Just thinking of him brought a smile to my lips and a lightness to my step.
Well, it couldn’t last, but couldn’t I have a bit of pleasurable company? It had been a long while since I had so indulged…
I decided to wait to go over to the hotel lobby until after dinner, as I was sure no one would be there drinking until then. In the meantime, I made my rounds and watched for a chance to speak with Anaelle. We had the usual crowd of gentlemen who preferred to stop by on their way home from work, and Anaelle was occupied with customers for the first hour or so. Then I was able to steal a moment from her in her room while she reapplied her makeup.
“I’m sorry about that obnoxious Blayne putting his hands on you last night,” I said by way of greeting as I hovered in her doorway.
She made a bitter face. “So am I.”
“So he’d been a lover of Daisi’s, yet showed no regret at her death?”
“Exactly that.” She powdered her face too emphatically, raising a white cloud, and coughed. “I’d always taken him for a lout and now it’s confirmed.”
“It’s also confirmed that Daisi was murdered,” I said. I came in and sat on her bed. “The doctor’s report is that she had poison in her system, but the vial held only water. She had a pinprick injury on her neck—no doubt how the poison was administered.”
Anaelle shook her head. “I always liked Daisi. But in the sister wars, she chose Amitée. Everyone chose Amitée.”
I stroked her long, fair hair. “My dear, no one who knows you well would choose her over you.”
“They all did,” she said bitterly. She spritzed her elegant neck with parfum.
“Well, I wish it had gone differently.”
She chose a lipstick without comment.
I sighed and changed the subject. “A whole crowd of men and women have come here from Rouen. In theory, all of them knew Daisi and any of them could have a motive. But it seemed to me that Satine was almost eager to hear that Daisi was dead. Did you notice that?”
“I did. It doesn’t surprise me. Satine and Daisi made a love triangle with Blayne, who was as happy as a pig in mud about it the whole time. Amitée kept me up to the minute about it.” She made a face. “She was delighted that Blayne chose two other mutual acquaintances without ever giving me a second look. Until tonight. And now I regret that I ever had any interest in him.” She pressed her painted lips to a napkin to take off some of the color.
I tried to redirect her back to the salient point. “So Satine would have had a motive to kill Daisi, then.”
“I hardly think she’s capable of murder,” Anaelle said. “She’s far too vacuous.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “People can surprise you, though.”
8
A couple of hours later, I was proving my own point. I thought I’d had some sense by now of the sort of creature Amitée was, and yet I’d not expected the vitriol she was spewing at me. Or, more accurately, about me.
I stood at the center of the lobby at the Hotel Edouard en l’Île—all dim
lighting, exquisite fabrics on every surface, padded ottomans and large tables, mirrors, tassels, chandeliers dripping with glass jewels—it almost felt like a high-class brothel itself—and around me in chaotic circles, like a butterfly, flitted Amitée, speaking with great animation to wedding guests and innocent bystanders alike. Somehow, even though I had taken from her the previous night, her response to me now was pure hatred.
“She thought she could hold me a prisoner!” she was crowing. “But she couldn’t! No one can force me to do anything I don’t want to do. Much less the madame of some brothel. Who does she think she is?” She lurched toward me and gave me a particularly nasty look. “Who do you think you are?” She spat in my direction.
Luckily, my preternatural reflexes have many uses, and I quickly stepped aside. I bit back angry words. I always tried to remain calm in the face of provocation, but being spat at… well, it causes a visceral reaction.
Our onlookers gasped or tittered nervously or spoke quietly to one another. A few tossed out loud, supportive comments for Amitée. Most, however, looked at us uneasily, no doubt wondering where this would end.
I was not at all accustomed to being the center of a scene, I will freely admit to you. At least, not outside my usual environs and surrounded by strangers who had no reason to trust me.
“I’m a free woman, and I’ve done nothing wrong,” Amitée continued, her words slurring. “She had no right to try to keep me a prisoner. And her brothel is filthy. I found stains on my bedspread.”
The onlookers gasped or laughed.
“There you must stop,” I said loudly, invoking my pouvoir. “You may lie and exaggerate everything else all you like, but Le Chat Rose is an exemplary brothel with a staff that exercises the greatest care. I won’t have you lie to the public about it.”
“Oh, she’s lying,” Amitée declared, pointing at me aggressively. “She’s the liar! And she has relations with all her ladies. She forces them to satiate her bizarre desires. One of them told me everything. It’s sick.”
The absurdity of the accusation silenced the room and drew a scoff from me. But then, I had it. Mastering this moment was about absurdity. I spoke clearly and brightly. “Oh, speaking of bizarre desires, that reminds me, Amitée. Did you enjoy your relations with the goat I arranged for you? I made sure it was a brown goat with white spots, just as you requested.”
The crowd hooted in appreciation, and Amitée flushed brightly, shouting something at me that was lost in the noise.
A new voice, female, came from behind me. “There you are!” It was Hélène—a breath of fresh air—her cheeks pink and her dark hair disheveled from the walk here. She came right to me, ignoring the scene unfolding, and kissed my cheek. “Darling, how are you?”
I smiled and kissed her in return. I had called her earlier to meet me here, claiming need of a flagrant gossip, to which she’d pretended offense before bursting into laughter. “You’re not a moment too soon,” I said quietly.
“Let me buy you a drink,” she said loudly, and she took my hand and tugged me to the bar. I allowed her to do so, and just like that, the scene was ended. Amitée watched us go with vexation obvious on her face, but one of her friends likewise pulled her aside and occupied her attention.
“What was that all about?” Hélène asked eagerly. “I’ve never seen such a scene.” She lit up a Gauloise and called for two gins and tonic from the bartender. “Did Amitée really ask for a goat?”
I burst into laughter. “No, but she really is a piece of work.” I shook my head. “I’ve met a few of her kind and am eager never to meet another.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “Now tell me, what’s our mission?”
“We’re hunting Daisi’s killer. Anaelle suspects Amitée, of course, but I’ve seen no evidence at all of that—much as I wish I could pin something on her that would take her completely out of polite society.” I quickly filled her in about Satine and the love triangle she’d had with Blayne and Daisi. “I can’t help but think Satine is the only one with a motive so far.”
“I will see what I can learn,” Hélène said happily. “I can bet I’ll have the whole answer for you in no time.”
“And I will meanwhile be speaking again with Amitée,” I said grimly. “My work with her is not yet ended.”
“Ouf. Good luck,” she said.
I nodded and downed my drink in two swallows. If only it had a stronger intoxicating effect on creatures such as myself… then again, there might be blood soon enough.
9
To my delight, I caught Amitée alone in the powder room. When she recognized me, she shot me a look of utter disgust. “You absolute salope. Oh, I could kill you.”
I ignored the vulgar insult. “Kill me? Like you killed Daisi?” I didn’t really suspect her, but it was a good opening move.
“I didn’t!” she shrieked, and she flailed her fists at me, but weakly compared to the first time she had attacked me.
I caught her wrists in my hands and held them too tightly for her to break away. I stared into her eyes and invoked my full pouvoir. “Confess everything to me right now.”
“I did nothing to Daisi,” she insisted, and she began to weep. “I didn’t want her to die. I liked her.”
“Good,” I said. “Go on.”
Just then, another lady entered the powder room and gave us a curious look; I lowered Amitée’s arms and loosened my grip. “Let’s go to your room upstairs and talk about it.”
A few moments later, she sat on her bed, gazing up at me without resistance, finally beneath my sway.
“Do you think Satine might have killed Daisi out of jealousy?” I asked.
“She’s not smart enough to have come up with such a plan,” Amitée said. “She’s so vacant, one would think she’s missing half her brain.”
I grimaced. “Who do you suspect of killing Daisi then?”
“Blayne,” she said. “He was going to marry her.”
My eyes widened. “Vraiment? He showed no grief at her death.”
“Exactly! He was going to ask her to marry him, and now he doesn’t even care that she’s dead. He’s a monster.”
“But why would he have done it?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that they broke up and Daisi was very upset. I don’t get myself involved in their nonsense. I have better things to do with my life.”
She looked self-satisfied, even smug, and I shook my head. I doubted very much that she had anything of value going on in her life. If she did, she wouldn’t need to seek attention the way she did.
I thought I had learned all I could now. So it was time to address other points. I gathered my energy for what would surely be a frustrating conversation. Had she been anyone else, I might have simply taken her for my next victim—but she was Anaelle’s sister… and as far as I knew, she had never killed anyone. I had to hold out hope for rehabilitation.
“Amitée, you lie. You lie to make others look bad and to try to make yourself look better. Don’t you realize this backfires? Lying only makes you look worse.”
“I don’t lie,” she said angrily. “Other people lie all the time.”
“You lie.” I fixed her with an intent glare and all my hypnotic power. “You lie, and you try to harm others. You care nothing for the feelings of other people.”
“Why should I care for them when no one cares at all for me? Everyone is out for themselves. They’ll use me in a moment.”
“You’re describing yourself,” I said firmly. “You are out for yourself. You use others. You reason away how it affects those around you.”
“People deserve what they get.”
“You deserve what you get. Your enemies. Your hysterical relationships. Your misery. This is what you have earned for yourself by lying and manipulating and hurting others.”
“I like my life.”
“You hate your life. Admit it. You cannot lie to me anymore. You can never lie to me again.” I used all of my enchantement to make i
t true.
She began to weep. “What can I do about it? This is who I am. I can’t be anyone else.”
I filled my words with power. “Every time you’re about to lie, you will remember what it feels like to be lied about, and you won’t do it. Every time you want to hurt someone, you will remember how it feels to be hurt, and you won’t do it. Do you understand?”
Tears overflowed her eyes, and she sobbed once, brokenly. I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You will seek peace and calm, Amitée, and you will find a way to be happy and well in your life.”
I hugged her and let her weep on my shoulder, feeling nothing but pity for her now.
I left her room saddened and heavy of heart, and the hotel lobby was a welcome sight. So many happy faces. People raising toasts to their friends, the buzz of laughter and conversation, the clinks of glasses. Music from the upright piano on the west wall. I let the sights and sounds of happy humanity sweep over me until I felt my soul cleansed.
Hélène saw me near the hallway and rushed to me with her eyes shining. “You’ll never guess what I found out.”
I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Tell me, ma chère.”
“Blayne cheated on Daisi with Satine, and when Daisi found out, she broke up with him, and Blayne was furious about it. He was very forceful in his efforts to get Daisi back with him. Very forceful.” She eyed me meaningfully.
I cocked my head in curiosity. “Satine assured me that Blayne had already broken up with Daisi before he got together with her. She said it twice.”
“It’s a complete lie. At least, according to my source. She knew perfectly well that Blayne was still with Daisi. She knew that he was going to marry her too, and she hoped to keep him as an ongoing affair even through the wedding and the marriage. Oh, aren’t people awful!” Her eyes gleamed in utter joy, making me laugh despite it all.
The Death of Daisi Page 3