We were shown to a table where Nadine sat with two other young women, two young gentlemen, and Herr Muller. The gentlemen rose when we reached the table, as did Nadine. She was, as I had expected, extremely glad to see Milo. She stopped just short of embracing him as we arrived. To her credit, she greeted me almost as warmly.
“Your gown is magnificent, Madame Ames. When I have seen you in the society columns, I have always thought how very lovely you look. Tres chic.”
“Thank you,” I said. Her own gown was a bright shade of pink that quite suited her.
She introduced us to her companions. The two young women were fellow models, one of them had come with Herr Muller, the other with one of the young men. The second young man was, if the way he glared at Milo was any indication, a special friend of Nadine’s.
As luck would have it, Herr Muller’s seat was next to mine at the table. He greeted us without enthusiasm. I took no offense, as he did not seem particularly interested in anything about the evening. I expected that learning anything from him would prove a difficult task, but I was up to the challenge.
We ordered dinner, and I made my first attempt at conversation.
“We were at the party at the Belangers’ home,” I said. “I had hoped to get a chance to speak with you, but the crowds were very large.”
“Yes, it was very crowded.” It seemed to me that his eyes had darkened ever so slightly at the mention of the Belangers’ party. It was not surprising, given what I had overheard. I would have to tread carefully with my questions.
“I was very impressed with your sculpture,” I said. “It will make a beautiful perfume bottle.”
“Thank you,” he said tightly. He seemed very much disinclined to discuss it, and I thought it best to let the topic drop for the moment. Perhaps he would be a bit more conversational after a few glasses of wine.
Dinner was relatively uneventful. Nadine and her friends were pleasant, and we found common ground in discussing the current fashions. Herr Muller did not contribute much to the conversation. I did notice that his features, though expressionless, did not carry the same haughty disdain that had been in evidence at the Belanger party. He merely seemed bored.
It seemed that the wine had indeed improved his temper, however, for, the meal finished, he rose and turned to me.
“Will you dance with me, madame?” he asked.
“I should like that very much,” I replied.
He pulled back my chair and we made our way toward the dance floor. When we reached it, he stepped back from me a moment, his eyes running over me. “I remember you,” he said at last. “You were wearing a lavender gown.”
I smiled. “Yes. It was a new gown.”
“It was not the gown that interested me,” he said. “You have a lovely body, madame.”
I paused only slightly at this unusual compliment. “Thank you,” I replied.
He took me into his arms, then, and we began to move around the floor.
“I hope you do not mind me saying so, but I notice the bodies of women. It is my business to do so.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Was Mademoiselle Montreau the model for the bottle sculpture?” I asked, referring to the young woman who had accompanied him to dinner.
“No,” he said, and I thought I detected a hint of a story in the single word. I was glad when he continued. “Helios had wanted me to model the bottle after his late wife, but I cannot work from an old photograph. I need living flesh.”
I wondered what Beryl Belanger had thought of her husband calling his perfume Angel of Memory and intending to model the bottle after his deceased wife.
“I thought perhaps his new wife would suffice,” Herr Muller went on, “but then I was introduced to a young woman named Angelique, and I knew at once that I wanted to sculpt her. I wanted, in fact, to make her my permanent model, but she said that she would model for the bottle but nothing more.” He sounded irritated by this fact. I supposed it was not usual for women to refuse him.
So Angelique, Michel Belanger’s former mistress, had been the model for the bottle. I wondered how that had come about.
“She is a friend of Michel Belanger, I understand,” I said.
“She was, yes.” Again, I had the impression that there was more than what he was saying.
“I heard that Monsieur Belanger did not approve of the relationship and drove them apart,” I said, hoping to nudge him along. It seemed to have done the trick, for his eyes flashed.
“Helios Belanger was a fool,” he said hotly.
Under other circumstances, I might have been a bit surprised that he should speak so vehemently about a man who had recently died. Given what I had overheard at the party, I had not expected warm sentiments.
“You think that Michel Belanger and Angelique were a good match?”
“No,” he scoffed. “Michel did not deserve her. I say Helios was a fool because of the way he acted. He did not want Angelique to be the model for the bottle. We had many rows over it. He ought to have trusted my judgment rather than fight me. He was behaving very strangely about the matter. After all, the sculpture is an angel, who better to model for it than a woman named Angelique?”
“Had you known him long?”
“Too long it seemed to me.”
I wondered if there was some particular event that had driven the two of them apart or if it had simply been a clash of artistic personalities.
“I would have thought it might have strengthened your friendship, working together so closely,” I ventured.
He shook his head. “We were friends once, but not at the end. I should never have agreed to create the bottle, but I have admired his perfumes, given them to my wives and mistresses, and I thought that a bottle would be an interesting form of art. I have never done something like this before, something that will be reproduced in glass. I was not entirely sure that I wanted to do it, but I was finally convinced. It did not take me long to realize that we would not be able to tolerate his interference. He was constantly changing his mind, questioning my decisions. He insulted me more than once. In the end, I could work only with Monsieur Anton.”
This was what I had gathered from the conversation I had heard at the party. It was not entirely surprising that two men of creative temperament should have had difficulty working together.
“What did Monsieur Anton say about Angelique serving as the model?” I asked. “I have the impression he does not much approve of Michel.”
“It was no one’s concern but mine. I decided that I wanted Angelique, and I had her.”
“I see. No doubt she was flattered to have been made into the bottle.”
He smiled a bit ruefully. “Angelique is not an easy woman to flatter. And she was a terrible model. Always she was wanting to move. ‘I must have something to drink.’ ‘I want to smoke a cigarette.’ ‘This room is too hot.’ I have never had a model who was as difficult as she. Never again will I work with such a woman.” Despite the heat of his words, his mouth had softened around the edges, and I could not help but think that Angelique had cast her spell over him.
This speech seemed to have tired him, for he stopped as we reached the edge of the dance floor and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his brow.
I thought it would be a good thing to speak with Angelique at some point. She might have some interesting insight to offer about the Belanger family. Granted, she was much more likely to be interested in speaking to Milo than she would be to me.
I glanced to where Milo was dancing around the floor with Nadine’s friend, Mademoiselle Montreau, the woman who was Herr Muller’s current model. I hoped that he would attempt to glean some sort of useful information from her, but the way she threw her head back and laughed at something he said made me doubt it.
I turned my attention back to the matter at hand. “I am sure that Monsieur Belanger would have loved the sculpture and would have been glad that it will carry on his legacy.”
“I think, if he had lived, he
would have chosen a different bottle,” Herr Muller said.
This I had not expected. “I find that very surprising,” I said. “Was it because of Angelique?”
“It was because Helios Belanger was a fool,” he said. “He saw enemies where they did not exist.”
“But surely, if you had a contract, he would not have been able to refuse it?”
“We did not have a contract because I had done the sculpture as a favor. It was an agreement between gentlemen, before I realized that Helios Belanger was no gentleman. I was to receive my compensation when the bottle went into production.”
Then he stood to lose if Monsieur Belanger had changed his mind. It was a very good motive. I wondered if I should press him further.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I would have to be blunt. “I suppose it is vulgar to say so, but it seems that Monsieur Belanger’s death was beneficial to you.”
It seemed to me that his gaze narrowed ever so slightly, and I wondered if he suspected that there was more to my comment than simple observation. Whatever he thought of my remark, he did not deny it. “Yes,” he said. “His death has saved me a great deal of trouble. Monsieur Anton will use my bottle, and I will receive my compensation. I did not hate the man, but nor do I mourn him.”
“I see.”
So Herr Muller had been reluctant to do the sculpture in the first place, and might have been out a good deal of money if Monsieur Belanger had lived. I wondered if it might be reason enough to kill.
The dance ended and we went back to the table. Milo was not there, nor did I see him on the dance floor.
Nadine must have noticed that I had looked for him, for she smiled. “He has gone to use the telephone, I think.”
I suspected that he had gone to see if there had been any messages left for us by Madame Nanette. It was obvious that he cared for her a great deal, for there was no other aspect of his life in which he was so solicitous.
“Do you know,” Nadine said, leaning toward me, “that when I was a child, I was very much in love with your husband.”
“Oh?” I asked, not entirely sure where this story would lead.
“Yes, he came home with my brother Francois for Christmas, and I told my mother, ‘one day I shall marry him.’ My mother told me she would forbid it, considering the way he and Francois and Michel Belanger behaved.” She laughed. “And so I planned an elopement. He never knew it, of course. I was heartbroken when I heard that he had been married. I have grown up now, of course. I see that he made a very good match.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“When two people are meant to be together … well, nothing can stop it.”
I thought this seemed a good opportunity to broach the subject that had been on my mind. “You mentioned Michel Belanger. Do you know Angelique?”
“Nearly all of Paris knows Angelique,” she said. “But I have never met her. She is very famous. Or perhaps infamous is the better word.”
“She sings, I believe?”
“And dances, without many clothes, so they say. At La Reine Bleue.”
I was deprived of further gossip as Milo made his way back to the table just then and stood behind my chair. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to leave,” he said. “Something has come up.”
He must have been contacted by Madame Nanette. Milo appeared perfectly at ease, but I could sense a certain tension in him. There must be something wrong.
He pulled out my chair, and I rose.
As we said our good-byes, I wondered if I would have another opportunity to speak to Herr Muller. There had been much in our conversation that seemed promising in the way of making him a suspect. I couldn’t say that I felt strongly that he was a killer, but I didn’t doubt the potential was there.
He looked at me then, almost as though he had read my mind, and offered me a small smile. I felt a bit of a chill as his cool eyes met mine. And then the sensation disappeared, and I wondered if I had imagined it.
“It was very nice to meet you, Herr Muller,” I said. “I shall be looking forward to seeing more of your work in the future.”
He looked as though he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead, he nodded. “Thank you.”
Milo took my arm, and we walked toward the exit.
“Madame Nanette?” I asked.
He nodded. “She left a message at the desk. She said only that she would come to see us at midnight unless she was able to ring again before then.”
“There may not be anything wrong,” I said.
“Perhaps not, but the desk clerk said she sounded distressed.”
That seemed an ominous sign. I thought perhaps the will might provide some interesting bit of news, but I didn’t think that it would be cause for distress.
“Did the clerk say anything else?”
“No. I assume she didn’t want to say much over the telephone. Likely she was still at the Belanger residence and would need to put the child to sleep before she could get away.”
I sighed. “Then there’s nothing we can do but wait.”
It was nearly midnight when we reached the hotel. I was glad. I didn’t feel like I could stand much suspense. For some reason, I was very on edge about Madame Nanette’s news, whatever it might be. Milo, as usual, gave no outward indication of alarm, but I knew that he must be concerned.
It was a relief when at last we heard her knock at the door.
Milo went to answer it, and Madame Nanette came into the room, her face very grave.
“Come and sit down, madame,” Milo said, leading her to the sitting area. “We could have met you at a café or some such place. You needn’t have come here to see us.”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t want to chance being seen in public. I am more certain now than ever that someone had a hand in Helios Belanger’s death.”
“You’re very pale,” Milo said. “Would you like a drink?”
She shook her head. “No, no. I am well, thank you. It is just that I have had a very trying afternoon.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Milo said. “Today was the reading of the will?”
“Yes, that was the first thing that upset me. You see, Helios left me money. Quite a lot of money.”
“And this is cause for distress?” Milo asked wryly.
“Well, yes, in a way,” she said. “I never dreamed that he would remember me in his will. We have not meant anything to each other in thirty years. I think the family wonders why it was that he did such a thing.”
“It doesn’t much matter what the family thinks,” Milo said. “That was Monsieur Belanger’s decision. Besides, I’m sure there is more than enough money to go around.”
She sighed. “I suppose. But there is something else. The will stated that Anton and Cecile should maintain equal control of Parfumes Belanger.”
“I see,” Milo said. “That does seem to be an interesting development.”
“I don’t suppose Anton was very pleased about that,” I said.
“No. They had a very great quarrel about it, in fact. Anton said that his father had told him that he would be given control of the company. He even claimed to have seen a draft of a different will.”
“A different will?” Milo questioned.
“Yes. He said it was in his father’s desk drawer. He offered to produce it, but the solicitor said that, even if a later will had been drafted by Monsieur Belanger, it had not been witnessed and was not legally binding.”
“And Monsieur Belanger was dead before that newer will could be formalized,” Milo said.
Madame Nanette nodded.
“What did Cecile say?” I asked.
“Not much. She did not seem surprised. I can only assume that Monsieur Belanger had told her his true intentions.”
“What of Michel?” I asked.
“That was another surprise. Michel was left a very large sum of money, though Monsieur Belanger had frequently quarreled with Michel a
nd even threatened to disinherit him on occasion. In fact, I wondered if that second draft of the will had said as much, for Anton looked livid about his brother’s inheritance, as though he had not expected him to receive it.”
“So he left Michel a small fortune with no strings attached,” I mused. “Perhaps as much money as his siblings with no responsibilities.”
She nodded again.
“That seems rather a strike against Michel,” Milo said.
“Perhaps,” I mused. “But if Monsieur Belanger had indeed drafted a second will that gave complete control of Parfumes Belanger to Anton, it is possible that Cecile saw it as well as Anton. She might have heard that he had asked his solicitor to come and realized that, despite her role in Parfumes Belanger, he meant to leave the company to her brother.”
“In which case, Cecile might have had motive to kill her father before the second will could be witnessed,” Milo said.
“Yes,” Madame Nanette said. “Cecile might have wanted to prevent his changing the will to disinherit her, if indeed that is what the second will did.”
“It’s also a good motive for Anton, if he thought he was going to benefit,” Milo pointed out. “If he believed that the second will was legally binding and that he would have control of the company, that might be a very good reason to kill his father.”
“Anton might also have been afraid that Belanger might change his mind again and give Cecile an equal share of the business,” I said slowly. “Perhaps he decided to act quickly and kill his father before it could be done.”
“It’s possible,” Milo said.
“I wish we could see the second draft of the will,” I mused. “It might give some insight into Monsieur Belanger’s frame of mind before his death. I find it rather strange that he would draft any will that did not give Cecile some share in the company. After all, she is the one who cares most for perfume.”
“He would not be the first father to overlook a daughter for a less competent son,” Milo said.
The Essence of Malice Page 14
