“No,” Madame Nanette admitted. “But Amory is right. It is unlike him. So many things about this Helios Belanger were different from that man I knew.”
“What about his widow?” I asked, remembering Beryl Belanger. “And the child, Seraphine. I assume he left them something?”
She nodded. “A very sizeable sum of money went to Madame Belanger, and even more was set up in a trust for the child. They will be well looked after.”
I suddenly thought of something. “I understand that Beryl often goes for walks in the Jardin du Luxembourg. I suspect it may be where she meets her lover. If she goes out tomorrow, will you ring me? I’d like to meet her there.”
“Yes,” she said. “I will let you know.”
“So Beryl has a secret lover and was left with plenty of money,” Milo said.
He looked over at me and I sighed. “I had hoped the will might give a clear motive to one of the Belangers in particular,” I said. “Instead, it seems it has given an excellent motive to all of them.”
“I haven’t told you the strangest thing,” Madame Nanette said.
“Good heavens, there’s more?” I asked.
She nodded. “It has to do with the formula. You remember that a copy was expected to be in his safe?”
“Yes,” Milo said. “I imagine Anton Belanger was most anxious to have it opened.”
“Yes. He had a difficult time containing his impatience. The solicitor brought his key after the reading of the will and they all gathered round, waiting to see if the formula was secure.”
I felt a growing sense of anticipation as she spoke, as though what she was going to say might be the key to the whole mystery. I had no idea how right I was.
“And was that copy of the formula incorrect like the one in Grasse?” I asked.
“There was no formula,” she said. “When they opened the safe, they found it was empty, save for a key.”
15
“A KEY TO what?” I asked.
“That is just it,” Madame Nanette said. “No one knows. The house was in an uproar after that, for Monsieur Anton said they will not be able to create L’Ange de Mémoire without the formula.”
“So either Monsieur Belanger placed the documents elsewhere, or someone has his copy of the key to the safe and has moved the formula,” Milo said.
“Then it seems the missing formula is the likely motive, after all,” I said. “If we can find who stole the formula, we will likely have our killer.”
Madame Nanette nodded. “So it seems.”
She glanced then at the clock. “I should be getting back before I’m missed,” she said.
Milo rose. “I’ll accompany you back.”
“You needn’t do that,” she protested. “I don’t want to risk being seen together. It might spoil everything.”
“Very well,” Milo said, “but I shall at least put you in a cab.”
“You’ll still come for tea tomorrow, won’t you?” I asked, remembering that it was her day off.
She hesitated. “I do not wish to intrude. I realize I have been coming here rather a lot.”
“Nonsense,” I replied. “We’re always delighted to have you. I do hope you will come. I’d like very much to have a chance to talk to you … about other things than this.”
She smiled. “Very well. I shall see you tomorrow.”
They went downstairs, and I sat down to consider what we had learned thus far. It all kept coming back to that formula. Someone had taken the copy from both Monsieur Belanger’s attaché case and his safe. It must have been one of the family members, but why had they taken it? To sell it? To keep it until the fate of Parfumes Belanger was determined?
My instinct told me the missing formula was somehow connected with the rumored second draft of the will. It was just possible that it might reveal who had the best motive for killing Helios Belanger. I wished I was able to look at the draft to see just what it contained, but it seemed very unlikely.
In any event, there was little I could do about it tonight.
I went to the bedroom and changed into my nightclothes. A few moments later, I heard Milo come back in. I walked to the sitting room door.
“What do you make of all this?” I asked him.
“It’s certainly something to consider,” he said.
“Something to consider?” I repeated. “I’d say it’s rather good evidence.”
“Evidence that someone might have taken the formula, yes. But you’ll remember, darling, that we don’t know for certain he was murdered.”
I didn’t know why it was that he had suddenly become so resistant to the idea. It was, after all, his suspicion that had brought us to Paris.
I stopped in the doorway when I realized that Milo was filling up his cigarette case from the box on the table.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m going out,” he said, putting the case back into his pocket. “You needn’t wait up for me.”
Though I should not have been, I was startled by this announcement. It was after one o’clock. I had certainly thought he meant to stay in with me tonight.
I wrestled inwardly with the best way to reply. After finding the ticket, I knew that he was hiding something. I supposed that I ought to be glad that for once I wasn’t concerned that it was a woman. I was beginning to trust him on that score. Besides, if it had been an illicit liaison he was after, he needn’t have traveled to Beauvais; there were plenty to be had in Paris. No, it was something more than that. I suspected that it had to do with Helios Belanger, and if that was the case, I didn’t know why he should want to keep it from me.
I debated on what might be the most effective tactic and decided to appeal to his baser instincts. I was, after all, still clothed only in my lacy nightgown.
“Must you go?” I asked lightly. I walked to where he stood and slid my arms around his neck. “I was rather hoping we might retire for the evening.”
He smiled down at me, his arms encircling me. “It’s a very tempting idea, darling, but I’m afraid I have a prior commitment.”
“With whom?” I asked.
“Francois Germaine,” he answered readily. “When he heard I was in Paris, he rang me up and I agreed to meet him tonight.”
“But it’s terribly late.”
“Gamblers never sleep, my lovely.”
“I was hoping to discuss things with you,” I said.
“Darling, as you’ve pointed out, it’s late, and I’m quite sure that you’re tired. Might we discuss things in the morning?”
It seemed I would need to be more direct. I stepped back, letting his hands fall away from my waist. “Milo, I know you’ve been keeping things from me,” I said.
I waited for him to deny it, or for him to give some sign that he was even considering telling me the truth, but there was nothing. He merely watched me and waited.
It was time to confront him with the evidence. “I found the ticket to Beauvais in your pocket,” I said.
Perhaps nothing in life was more infuriating to me than Milo’s absolute lack of remorse when confronted with his own wrongdoing. No matter what he had done, how apologetic I thought he ought to be, he always managed to make me feel as though he thought I was being unreasonable. This time was no exception.
“Searching my pockets, were you?” The words were spoken lightly, but there was some hint of accusation in them that I didn’t like.
“The ticket fell out onto the floor,” I said coldly, “but that is beside the point. Why did you go there?”
“It was a business matter,” he said. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
His gaze met mine unflinchingly. “That’s entirely your prerogative.”
“Then you’re not going to tell me why you went there?”
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even blink. “No.”
I didn’t know what was more irritating: that he was being evasive or that he was making no effort
to hide that fact.
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Some things don’t concern you, darling,” he said.
I don’t think he could have possibly said anything that would have made me angrier. I felt my face flush hot and, for a moment, I was absolutely speechless.
“Does it ever cross your mind to think of anyone other than yourself?” I asked as steadily as I could manage, doing everything in my power to keep from crying in fury. As I said it, I realized it was a question I had wanted to ask him for most of our marriage.
“Amory…” He sighed.
“Never mind,” I said. “I know perfectly well what the answer to that is.”
Suddenly, I knew that I would not be able to hold back the tears any longer, and I refused to cry in front of him. Let him do as he pleased. Wordlessly, I went into the bedroom and closed the door behind me.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, some part of me hoped that he would come in, that he would admit that he was wrong.
But he didn’t, and a moment later I heard the front door close behind him.
* * *
HE HAD NOT returned by morning. I had spent half the night lying awake in my bed, listening for the sound of the door, half expecting him to come in late again, but, after staring at the darkened ceiling for what seemed like hours, I had at last given in to a restless sleep.
As a result, I felt tired and rather grim when I rose the next morning. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that I did not look at all well.
Winnelda had come to see about helping me dress, but I had sent her off on an errand. I didn’t feel up to company this morning. I needed time to think. It had been a long time since we’d had a good row, and I was not entirely surprised that it had happened. Nevertheless, it was infuriating that he had gone out and had chosen not to return home.
Though I felt like doing nothing but pulling on a silk robe over my nightgown and sulking about all day, I bathed and put on a becoming dress of red silk.
Feeling at least adequately prepared to meet the day, I went out into the sitting room. A hotel maid had brought a tray with coffee and pastries, but I had a headache and very little appetite.
Perhaps what bothered me most was that I had spent years concealing my emotions from Milo and now that I had become comfortable enough in our relationship to reveal my feelings, he had disregarded them. I wondered if my marriage would always be like this: a step forward and two steps back.
I poured my coffee and stirred in extra sugar for good measure.
I was halfway finished with the cup when the door opened and Milo came in, still in evening dress. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t move toward me. Instead, his eyes searched my face. I met his gaze for only a moment before turning my attention back to my coffee cup.
“Good morning,” he said in a tone that was not at all apologetic.
“Good morning,” I replied, not looking up at him. I was not in the mood for pleasantries this morning. In fact, I was suppressing a very strong inclination to throw the coffeepot at his head. Alas, theatrics were not in my nature any more than repentance was in his.
“You’re up rather early.”
“I think we may dispense with the civilities, Milo,” I said.
“I thought we might be particularly in need of them this morning.”
“We are apparently in need of a great many things,” I said, “none of which I wish to discuss at present.”
I wondered where it was that he had spent the night, but I didn’t feel inclined to ask him at the moment. Perhaps a part of me was afraid of the answer.
“I suppose you’re wondering where I’ve been all night,” he said, with that irritating habit he had of knowing what I was thinking.
“No,” I retorted. “I haven’t the least bit of interest.”
“Well, I’ve brought you a present.”
“Have you?” I asked disinterestedly. Milo did not, as a general rule, buy me gifts when we had quarreled. He wasn’t the type of man who felt the need to atone for his mistakes.
“Yes, wait here for just a moment.”
He walked to the door and opened it, motioning to someone outside.
The door opened wider and a bellboy came in, struggling under the weight of a large brass cage. I had to look twice to make sense of what was in it, and I was struck by a mixture of incredulity and, against my will, amusement.
“A monkey,” I said, my gaze shifting from the cage to Milo’s face. “You’ve bought me a monkey.”
He smiled. “Surprised?”
Surprised was not actually an accurate description of what I was. Milo had given me unusual gifts before, the latest of which had been a pearl-handled revolver. However, if you had given me a year to guess what this particular gift might be, I would never have thought of a monkey.
It was a very small monkey with large dark eyes. He was perched in the cage, his head tilted to the side. He seemed to be studying me just as I had studied him.
“How did you happen to come by him?” I asked, impressed at how calm I sounded. This entire situation was so bizarre; I had no protocol to follow.
“It was all part of a rather elaborate wager. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d even won until he was presented to me.”
I was trying very hard to maintain my composure. I was terribly angry with Milo and hurt by his behavior, but this was all so ridiculous that I was sorely tempted to laugh. How very like him it was to throw me off so completely.
I rubbed a hand across my eyes. I was suddenly tired.
“You don’t like him.” Milo’s tone was designed to induce guilt, as though he had presented me with a piece of jewelry I didn’t like and not a small mammal.
An exasperated sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh escaped my lips. “I’m sure he’s a very nice monkey, Milo, but what are we to do with him?”
Milo shrugged. “Bring him home, I suppose.”
“We cannot keep a monkey in our flat. I can only imagine what Winnelda would have to say about that.” She was sure to come into the sitting room at any moment, in fact, and go into hysterics at the sight of him.
“Well, we’ll send him to live at Thornecrest.”
“Surely you don’t mean to keep him?”
“Certainly, I do.”
I studied his face and found that he was perfectly in earnest. There was amusement in his eyes, but no hint of jesting.
“Milo, we cannot possibly keep a monkey.”
He smiled. “There you’re wrong, my love. We can do anything we like.”
“Milo…”
“I’m going to freshen up,” he said, turning toward the bedroom. “Perhaps you can keep Emile company.”
“Emile?” I asked.
“The monkey is called Emile.”
Of course he was.
The monkey, hearing his name, chirped excitedly. He looked almost as though he was smiling at me.
“He is rather a fetching little thing,” I said. “What does he eat?”
“Fruits and the like, I imagine.”
“His previous owner didn’t tell you how to care for him?”
“I think he was happy to get the absurd little thing off his hands. I’ve only had him for the space of a few hours, and he is proving to be quite a nuisance.”
“You shouldn’t say such things. You’re liable to hurt his feelings,” I said, my tone heavy with sarcasm.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Milo said as he disappeared into the bedroom. “He can’t understand me. He only speaks French.”
16
WINNELDA WAS ABSOLUTELY no help when she returned from her errand a few moments later. She was delighted to see the monkey. It seemed only by the barest of margins that she kept herself from jumping up and down with excitement at the very sight of him.
“What a cute little thing you are,” she said. “I do hope we shall be friends.”
“He doesn’t speak English,” I said, feeling utterly ridiculous even a
s I said it.
Winnelda looked crestfallen. “Not at all?”
“I don’t believe so,” I replied, “but perhaps you can teach him.”
“Oh, do you think so, madam? I will try it!”
As I walked back to the bedroom, she leaned down toward the cage. “Hello, Emile,” she said very slowly. “My name is Winnelda.”
Emile replied by chattering brightly, and Winnelda laughed.
I knew in that moment that I would never be able to rid myself of this monkey.
The telephone rang and I went to answer it.
“Amory?” The voice on the other end spoke quietly, but I recognized that it was Madame Nanette.
“Yes.”
“I thought you might like to know. Madame Belanger has gone for her walk.”
“Thank you,” I said. I would go the park directly. If I could arrange to encounter her, I might be able to learn something.
I rang off and turned to see that Milo was coming out of the bedroom. He had bathed and dressed and was just tying his necktie.
“Why are you dressing?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“I’m not particularly tired,” he said. “Who was on the telephone?”
I was tempted to be as evasive with him as he was with me, but things would become too confusing if we were both duplicitous.
“It was Madame Nanette,” I said. “Beryl Belanger has gone for her walk. I’m going to see if I can intercept her in the park.”
“Would you care for some company?” he asked.
I hesitated for just a moment. I was still angry and didn’t particularly feel up to his company this morning. However, there was nothing to be gained by being spiteful.
“You may come if you like,” I said.
* * *
IT WAS A beautiful morning for a walk in the park. The sun was bright and the air was cool. Milo and I strolled along beside each other, neither of us saying much.
If it had been a few days ago, I would have taken his arm, enjoyed the sensation of ambling along in the sunshine with him beside me. As things stood now, I felt we were on the verge of losing much of the progress we had made in our marriage, and I didn’t want that to happen.
The Essence of Malice Page 15
