by Estelle Ryan
Danielle’s roommate was an unassuming young woman, petite in size with large green eyes hidden behind studious glasses. She had opened the door on Colin’s third knock. “Professor Dryden. Please come in.”
I gave Colin a fierce look that he completely ignored. Really? A false name? Now I could add making me an unwitting accessory to falsifying an identity to his many sins. He leaned even harder on his cane and, to my further outrage, spoke with a voice hoarse from age, smoking and whiskey. “Miss Paschal. Thank you so much for meeting with us. This is my esteemed colleague, Doctor Genevieve Lenard.”
Miss Paschal held the door wide open and smiled at me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Lenard. The professor said he would be bringing someone along. Please forgive the mess. I’m writing exams at the moment and don’t have much time for housekeeping.”
Colin and I stepped into the tiny apartment. He made a show of assuring the student that we were not here to inspect the living space. I thought it was a good thing we weren’t. The girl would spectacularly fail an apartment inspection. The entrance hall could be no more than four square metres, but most of that space was taken up by an overflowing coat tree, a mound of shoes and a bicycle. The panic of such messiness sat in my throat like a large piece of dry bread.
Four doors led from the entrance. To the right was a bedroom with books and a laptop carelessly strewn across a large unmade bed. Straight ahead was a bathroom door and the open door next to it led to the kitchen. A bolt of horror shot through my system as I looked into that room. The health department would declare that small space a public hazard. I quickly turned my head towards the room to the left that Miss Paschal was showing us to.
“This is Danielle’s room. I haven’t touched anything, even though she still has my green coat and I’ve wanted to wear it a few times.”
The image of the bright green coat spread underneath Danielle and the blood pooled around her head rushed into my mind. I hastily suppressed it and followed Colin into the room. Unlike the crammed entrance, the room was spacious. It was sparsely decorated, but clearly with a very artistic hand. The single bed was covered with a colourful duvet and on the walls hung paintings that looked like original masterpieces. I made mental notes of everything I saw.
I ignored Colin’s small talk with the student. I wanted to learn more about the dead girl and right now I could read a lot by just looking at Danielle’s room. The roommate could be observed later. Looking around the room, it quickly became noticeable that there was a distinct lack of personal effects. There were no photos of family members, pets, boyfriends or even girlfriends.
I turned towards Colin and the girl, and interrupted their chit-chat about how Miss Paschal wished she had artistic talents. “Where did Danielle do her work?”
The young woman blinked nervously and looked at Colin. “She studied at the university and did some of her assignments there. But she told me that her boyfriend had given her studio space at his work.”
“Tell me more about her boyfriend.” Colin spoke with a gentleness the student responded to. I didn’t need to receive his quick glare to know that the girl felt uncomfortable with me. Her body language was screaming it. I shrugged mentally and paid close attention.
“I don’t know much about him. Danielle is very private.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, she is a bit strange. A few times she disappeared for a week or so, but never for this long. Do you know where she is?”
I narrowed my eyes. Colin seemed to have spoken to this girl before we came here, but he didn’t tell her that her roommate had been murdered. I did not want to be the one who delivered such news and waited for Colin to answer.
“No, dear.” He had built a rapport with this girl at an amazing speed and I could not help but admire that. “All we know is that she is an amazing artist and our foundation would like to get in contact with her. We would love to co-operate with her. Maybe fund some of her studies.”
“I don’t think she needs money. Not now. The first few months we shared the apartment, she was broke most of the time. We used to joke about living on bread and water for the duration of our studies and how we could sell it as a trendy diet. Then she met her boyfriend and everything changed. I asked her if she had won the lottery or received a scholarship, but she didn’t want to speak about it. She has enough money now to focus only on her studies and her art. A few times she even helped me out. Should I be getting worried about her not being here?”
“I don’t know, dear.” There was true compassion in Colin’s voice and face. It had to come from his knowledge of where Danielle truly was. “It sounds like you are good friends. Where did she meet her boyfriend?”
“I don’t remember. Let me think.” She placed her fingers on her lips for a few moments and then her eyebrows lifted with a memory. “It was after her holiday. Oh, that is quite a story.”
Colin responded to the sudden brightness in her voice with a warm smile. “Tell us about it.”
“She won a cruise on the Baltic Sea. I don’t remember anyone ever being so happy to win anything. She couldn’t even remember entering the competition. It was a three week cruise last summer and that is where she met this guy.”
“Do you remember his name?” Colin asked softly.
“Danielle never introduced us. Like I said, she is very private. I just call him Russ.”
“Russ?”
“Oh, he has the most delicious Russian accent. His French is really good, but combined with that accent, he sounds so sexy. And he is really good looking too.”
“Do you maybe know how we can get in touch with him? Maybe he knows where Danielle is.”
“Oh, no. I spoke to him only three times and it was just in passing. I’m beginning to worry about her now. If I think about it, she has been acting a bit strangely the last while.”
“Really?” Colin sounded sincerely concerned.
“Yes. She was spending a lot more time at her studio than at the university. When I asked her about it, she said that she was working on a project for someone and once it was done, she was going to move out of the studio. She didn’t want to tell me any more than that, but that day she looked really unhappy.”
“Do you know where her studio is?”
The roommate was looking increasingly distressed. “No, I don’t know that either. It seems like I really don’t know anything about Danielle. Oh god, I hope she is okay.”
“Don’t worry too much, dear. Rather think about your studies and your exams. I’m sure that Danielle is somewhere safe.” Colin’s words seemed to calm the girl. He chatted to her for another five minutes about her studies. By the time he followed me out of the apartment, the student was once again consumed with exam stress.
We continued in silence until we were outside in the sun. He put his arm through mine and leaned on me. I glared at him. “How could you just lie to her like that?”
“I did not want to be the one who told her that her friend was murdered.” He sounded aghast. “And from a practical point of view, we are not supposed to be here.”
“Oh lordy.” I stopped midstride. “Phillip is going to be so displeased.”
Colin gave a rude snort and pulled me so that we were walking towards the university again. “I don’t think Phillip will be your biggest problem.”
“My problem? Good lord, I’m going to have to bear the brunt of this, aren’t I?” I did not even consider this when I offered him that blasted cup of coffee and with that my trust and co-operation. “And it’s Manny who’s going to be shouting at me.”
“I’m afraid you are right.”
I wrote a few more bars of Mozart’s 9th on the music sheet that necessity had placed in my mind this morning. Knowing Colin was helping me brush up on all my Mozart. “Are you just going to leave me to deal with this alone?”
“For now.” His soft-spoken cryptic answer did not invite any argument. “What do you think about the cruise ship boyfriend?”
“I think that now I have
another box in my notepad that will need lines.”
“Dollars to doughnuts the cruise ship they were on is also singularly owned.”
“I don’t understand.”
Colin looked at me with surprise. “You don’t? Oh, the dollars to doughnuts thing. That only means that I’m willing to bet that the cruise ship that Danielle met her boyfriend on belongs to a company with only one ship on its books.”
“Oh. Well, it was a good guess, but I’ll have to do proper research to have concrete proof. Why doughnuts?”
“I really don’t know,” he laughed. We crossed the street and walked into the university campus. “Where did you study?”
“I’m sure you know.”
“But I would like for you to tell me.”
I stiffened when he didn’t deny having knowledge about my education. “I studied in Oxford, Tokyo and the Paris Descartes University.”
“One of the most prestigious universities when it comes to psychology. I already know your French is flawless. Do you speak Japanese?”
I started to answer, but stopped myself. “No, you must first give me information about yourself. That is how co-operation works.”
“Very well.” With Colin’s artificial old-age walking, we were making slow progress through the beautiful campus. We were following the signs leading us to the library. “I spent a lot of time on campuses like this, but I was never a registered student.”
“So what did you do at the universities?”
“Studied, of course. My childhood was not very academic, so I never would have qualified for university, but I wanted to learn.”
He had even stolen his education. “What did you study?”
“History, art, art history, world politics. I even dabbled a bit in philosophy. Here we are.” He led me up a stone staircase and into the cool interior of the library.
“Who are we going to see now?”
“Danielle’s professor. She told me she would be waiting for us here.” We walked into a large room and the hushed reverence of literature surrounded us. I loved libraries. Colin leaned closer to me and whispered, “Over there.”
I pulled away from his closeness, followed his glance and saw a middle aged woman sitting at one of the long dark wooden tables. She looked like she had stepped out of a seventies magazine aimed at the hippies of that era. Her gray streaked hair fell below her waist, both her wrists were adorned with mismatched bracelets and her colourful dress perfected the image. When we stopped at her table, she looked up and welcoming wrinkles formed in the corners of her eyes.
“You must be Professor Dryden. Please sit down.” Sympathy softened her face even more when Colin lowered himself painfully onto a chair. I wanted to hit him.
“Thank you, Professor Benoit.” He awarded her with the same smile that had won the roommate over. “And thank you for making the time to meet with us. This is my colleague, Doctor Lenard.”
The hippie professor beamed at us. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Paul couldn’t talk enough about your unparalleled knowledge when it comes to art restoration.”
“Oh please, Profess–”
“Please call me Jeannette,” she interrupted.
“Jeannette.” Colin’s voice oozed warm friendship. I was in awe. I was witnessing a con-artist at work and couldn’t stop myself from being caught up in the skill it took. None of the book knowledge had prepared me for the artistry in deceiving someone so smoothly.
Colin was talking again. “I assume that Paul didn’t tell you about our scholarship programme? Well, we are in the fortunate position of sponsoring a select few students and Danielle, Miss Rioux, has caught our eye.”
“Yes. Yes.” Concern marred the older woman’s face. “After your phone call, I started wondering why I haven’t seen her in a while. I decided to look Danielle up at administration and it seems that she has dropped out.”
“Dropped out?”
“Yes. The head of administration showed me an email they received from Danielle informing the university that she will no longer be attending classes here.”
“When was this?”
“About three weeks ago. It really is a loss. She has the makings of a great artist. You know, one of the few great ones.” Tears formed in her eyes and her lips thinned as she tried to control her emotions.
Despite the heavy make-up, Colin’s distress was strong enough to be displayed clearly. He was not mourning her absence at the university, of that I was sure. It was her senseless death that pulled the corners of his mouth down. “You are right, it is a great loss.”
“What was she working on?” I knew I wasn’t supposed to speak, but someone needed to break the sadness that had settled at the table.
“Oh.” The hippie professor dabbed lightly at her eyes and took a stuttering breath. “She was good in most disciplines, but it is painting that she excels at. She has the right touch for it. And she so loves Post Impressionism and Cloisonnism. The artists of that time inspires her with their adventurous attempt at doing things differently. That was the time for the isms. One day she told me that she thought she was born in the wrong time. I could easily believe it. I don’t understand why she decided to quit.”
“I saw one of her works that greatly resembled Gauguin,” Colin said quietly
The professor and I both looked at him in surprise.
“Oh yes, she said that Paul Gauguin was her greatest inspiration. She loves all his works, but it is his paintings especially that she can’t get enough of. Once she showed me the beginnings of a painting that she was working on privately. It was far from finished, but I was sure that it would’ve been an exact replica of Gauguin’s Two Tahitian Women. She was a master in the making,” she said again.
I inhaled sharply and looked at Colin. If it wasn’t for my world-renowned expertise, I would not have caught the slight nose-flare, constricted pupils and narrowed eyes. He was as interested and excited by this new development as I was. Colin gently questioned the professor for a few more minutes, but gained nothing else.
“Thank you so much for your time, Jeannette. It is truly a pity that we’ve missed the opportunity to work with Miss Rioux.”
We all stood up and the professor smiled warmly. “No, it was my pleasure to meet such an esteemed colleague of Paul’s. The next time you find yourself in Strasbourg, please come and visit again.”
After a few more pleasantries, we slowly made our way to his car.
“Wow.” Colin broke the stunned silence between us. “Would you believe that? She used Gauguin as inspiration and the professor even saw the beginnings of a copy. Then she’s murdered and a piece of a Gauguin is found on her? What are the odds of this happening?”
“I don’t think that we can calculate the odds here.” I noticed a slight relaxation of his orbicularis oculi muscles, taking away the stress that had been evident around his eyes during the two conversations. One corner of his mouth lifted. Understanding dawned on me. “Oh, it was a rhetorical question. Well, I have a real question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Who? What?”
“Shoot with your question, Jenny.” There was laughter in his voice.
“Oh. If you are Professor Dryden, what is your first name?”
“Care to guess?” The car was a few feet away and he stopped. After fumbling in his pocket like an old man would, he came out with his wallet and found his identity card. I reached for it, but he held it back. “Guess.”
“John. You are pretending to be John Dryden, the British poet who lived until 1700.” I grabbed the laminated card out of his hand, glanced at it and shook it angrily at him. “This is fraud, Colin.”
“John, dear. My name is John.” With that he shuffled to the car and folded his body painfully into the driver’s seat.
It was with no small amount of agitation that I got into the car. “You can’t continue doing this, Colin. It is illegal and I will have no part in it.”
“Is your id forged?”
/> “No, of course not. And what does that have to do–”
“Do you have anything else that is forged? Did I provide you with anything illegal?”
“No.”
“Well then. You have no part in anything.” He pulled into the street with a quick smile. “Not that I’m admitting to any illegal activity, of course.”
I didn’t like being in this gray area. It was much easier to think of all the information we had just gleaned, so I forced my thoughts to stay on topic. I couldn’t wait to get to my computers and add cruise ships, especially those on Baltic cruises, to the search and see what came of it. And to think that of all the folders I had received from Manny, I hadn’t even considered opening the cruise ships folder.
It was hard to decide what to do first. Maybe I would cross reference all the names of the fictional private investigators with the cruise ships. I thought of all my lists and how I would just start with one list and cross reference the whole lot of them.
“Genevieve!” Colin’s voice bounced around the interior of the car. He had the same tone of voice and look on his face as Phillip when he had been calling my name for some time without any reaction from me.
“What?”
“Where were you?”
“Here. Sitting next to you.” What an inane question.
“That is not what I meant. Obviously your mind had taken you to another place. That is the place I’m interested in.”
“Oh. I was just thinking about everything we’ve learned today.”
“Quite something, right?”
“Quite.”
There was a long silence. “Are you going to tell me what you were thinking specifically?”
“No.”
Colin laughed softly. “Did you notice the paintings on Danielle’s wall?”
“Of course I did.”
“Did you recognise any of them?”
“No. Did you?” I was not an art expert. I had, however, learned a lot in the six years that I worked at Rousseau & Rousseau. The different eras in art rolled off my tongue as easily as all the facial muscles controlling our expressions. It was only the most costly artists, those whose paintings we insured, that I was more familiar with. I would never claim to be able to recite a chronological list of their paintings though. Something told me that Colin could.
“With the exception of one, they were all Gauguins.” He quickly glanced at me. “Really good Gauguins.”
“Oh dear. It seems that she was a forger.”
“It would seem so.” He stopped at a red light. “Where do you want to go now?”
“Back to the office.”
“It’s past five already. Why don’t I drop you off at your apartment?”
“It’s that late already?” I looked at my watch with amazement. I had been acutely aware of the time until Manny and Colin entered my life. That I had not noticed how much time had passed attested to how completely engrossed I was in this case. “At least Phillip won’t be in the office. He’s most likely raring to lecture me. Again.”
“Does that mean you still want to return to the office?”
“Yes, please. And do slow down. It’s really not necessary to race through the streets like this. I don’t mind if it takes a bit longer to reach the office.”
“I’m not racing.” But he did slow down and maintained a reasonable speed and distance from the other vehicles until we reached Rousseau & Rousseau’s office building. He double-parked in front of the large building and turned to me. “I’ll contact you tomorrow to find out if you’ve drawn any more lines.”
I got out of the car and leaned back in. “Please use the front door.”
“Aw, Jenny. That would be so boring.” Not even the layers of make-up could hide the merriment on his face. He was having too much fun with this, I decided and slammed the door with unnecessary force. Psychology had taught me that reacting to his actions the way I did only encouraged him to continue. I simply did not have it in me to ignore his grating behaviour. If only he hadn’t proved himself to be so useful. And resourceful.
I silently bemoaned my bad luck all the way into my viewing room. Only after the door silently slid closed did I realise that Phillip hadn’t been waiting for me at the reception desk. He was, very possibly, at some or another important function, playing all those social games required for the survival of all businesses. With a sigh of pure contentment for not having to play those games, I switched on my computers and opened the folder with the cruise ships.
Three hours later, all I had to show for my efforts was the beginnings of a headache. I had managed only to discover that the list of cruise ships was rather long. It also proved to be quite a challenge to cross reference anything with that folder. The format of the cruise ships files was not searchable and I had to draw on all of my computer skills to change that. Even though I loved technology and its use in streamlining actions that previously would have been laborious, I had never taken enough interest to advance my knowledge to the level of a specialist.
When the files were compatible, I looked at my watch and decided to call it a night. I would make an early start of it in the morning. I predicted that I would first have the inevitable argument with Phillip before I would be able to continue this search. Meticulously I saved all that I had done, shut down all the computers and was in my car shortly before nine o’clock. If luck held, I could enjoy a leisurely soak in the tub and be in bed long before midnight.
Chapter NINE
