24
“I’M SO GLAD you could come,” Cecile said when we met in the drawing room. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but I am leaving in the morning and I wanted to get your opinion before I go.”
“Leaving?” I asked.
“Yes, I have some business to attend to. It came up rather unexpectedly.”
“I see,” I said. I wondered if it could have anything to do with Michel’s secret errand last night. Did she know anything about her brother’s mysterious behavior?
“I’m not sure how long I shall be gone. Once I have your opinion on the scent combination, I can go ahead with producing it. I’m very pleased with what I have developed. Will you come out to my laboratory?”
“Yes, I’d love to.”
We rose from our seats, but before we could make our way outside, the butler entered the drawing room. “Monsieur Duveau is here to see you, madame.”
I was looking her way as he said these words, but I could detect nothing on her features to indicate how she felt about the arrival of her former fiancé.
“Have him come in,” she said.
André came into the room a moment later and stopped when he saw me there. “Oh, Amory. How delightful. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Hello, André.”
“You’ll forgive me for dropping in unannounced, Cecile,” he said, “but I was wondering if you were able to find the book I had left here.”
“Yes, I think it may be in his room,” she said. “I’ll go up and see if I can find it.”
“Shall I come with you?” he asked.
“No. Things are quite out of order at the moment. I had the maids sorting through my father’s things. They brought a good many documents and books to his office, but one of them took ill and left the job unfinished. It has been a nuisance. Madame Ames, will you excuse me for a moment?”
“Yes, of course.”
She went out of the room, and Monsieur Duveau and I took seats across from each other.
“As I told you, I had a book on perfumery that Monsieur Belanger was kind enough to annotate for me,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I imagine you will be very glad to have his notes.”
“You’ll also realize, perhaps, that I had ulterior motives for coming here.”
“Oh?” I asked. I had been a bit curious about his sudden appearance, but I hadn’t liked to draw conclusions. After all, the two were on good terms. There was no reason why he should not visit her, so far as I knew.
“Yes, I came to see how things stand with Cecile. I have been thinking things over, and I wonder if we did the right thing in parting.”
“I see.” I wondered, a bit cynically, if his sudden change of heart had anything to do with the fact that Cecile had just inherited half of Parfumes Belanger.
“I know what you must think,” he said with a smile. “But I truly care about her. I should hate to lose her.”
“Then it’s good that you came to speak with her about it,” I said. “I believe she means to leave Paris.”
I could tell this surprised him, though he tried to hide it. “Does she? Then I’m glad I came when I did.”
She came back a moment later with a book in one hand and two small silver tins in the other. “I think this is it,” she said, holding the book out to him.
He rose and went to take it from her. “Yes, this is it.” He flipped through the pages. “It looks as though he left me a great many notes.”
“Good,” she said. “And I thought you might like this as well.”
She handed him one of the little silver tins.
He looked down at it and then back up at her. “What is this?”
“My father’s lavender pomade,” she said. “His personal stock. He made the last batch not long ago, and I should hate for these tins to go to waste. Would you like one, Madame Ames?” she asked, handing one to me.
I took it. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Cecile had mentioned Helios Belanger’s unique lavender pomade and I would be pleased to try it, but I couldn’t help but feel there was some other reason Cecile had gifted this to me in front of André. Perhaps she had wanted him to have it, but, not wanting him to attach too much personal significance to the gesture, had decided to give one to me as well.
“I shall enjoy this,” André said. “Each time I use it I shall think of your father.”
They looked at each other.
It seemed that she was waiting for him to leave, and I was aware that there was more André wanted to say to her that could not be said in my presence.
I wondered if I should find a way to excuse myself and was glad when he made his intentions plain. “I wonder if I might speak to you for just a moment, in private.”
“I have a guest,” she said. From another woman, I might have thought the words held alarm, but Cecile seemed perfectly composed. Perhaps just disinterested.
“Oh, you needn’t worry about me,” I said quickly. “I’ll just step out into the garden. I did want a chance to have a better look at it.”
It appeared that she was hesitant, but she nodded. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”
I turned to André. “It was nice to see you, André.”
“And you. Perhaps you and your husband might have dinner with me soon?”
“That would be nice.”
“I’ll ring you up.”
I went out into the garden and walked along the path a little way. I couldn’t help but wonder what he would say and how she would respond to it. The timing of his renewed suit might be suspect, but I wanted to believe that it was made from true feeling rather than anything less noble.
Was there any chance of a reconciliation? Some part of me always hoped that the flame of true love could be rekindled. I supposed it was having been able to revive my own relationship that always made me hopeful for others.
I had walked along the little path that looped back around to skirt the house. I stopped when I realized that the doors to Monsieur Belanger’s office were wide open. Cecile had mentioned the maids had been cleaning. Perhaps they had left the room open to air it.
I glanced inside. The door to the hallway was closed and the room was empty. I had intended to return the will. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.
I slipped into the room and opened the drawer where I had found it. I quickly slid the paper inside, closed the drawer, and was about to leave the room when something on the desk caught my notice.
There was a box filled with notebooks and assorted papers. These must have been the items Cecile had mentioned. There were a great many items in the box, but there was a stack of letters in yellowed envelopes on top, and something about the handwriting looked familiar. I picked one up and took the letter out.
My dearest one,
I cannot stop thinking of you. My heart aches and I feel as though my world has come to an end. What we have was meant to last forever.
These were love letters. I didn’t read further. Such things were private. I couldn’t resist, however, turning the paper over to see why it was that the hand seemed familiar. The last words were written in darker ink than the rest, as though the pen had pressed hard into the paper.
The only thing that can stop my love is death.
Yours Forever,
Nanette
They were the letters from Madame Nanette.
Judging from the date on the front, she must have written them when she and Helios Belanger had parted ways all those years ago. And he had kept them. I felt a little pang of sadness that her first love should have brought her such sadness.
I heard voices in the garden and hastily put the letter back into the envelope.
I hurried back outside and took the path away from the house, rounding it to find Cecile and André outside.
“Here it is,” she said, and he came around from another part of the path. She pointed out a plant to him. “You see it grows quite well in our climate.”
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��Yes,” he said. “I shall have to add it to my own garden. Thank you.”
They both looked up as I approached. I tried to detect the atmosphere between them, but it was difficult. Cecile was always cool and reserved, and André seemed perpetually good-natured. Whatever they had discussed, it was not apparent on their countenances.
André made his farewells and, after he had gone, Cecile turned to me. “I apologize for the delay, Madame Ames. Monsieur Duveau can be persistent.”
“He seems fond of you,” I said, hoping she would choose to confide in me.
However, it seemed that confidences were not in Cecile’s nature. “André is very genial,” she said mildly. “We can go to the laboratory now, if you are ready.”
She led me through the courtyard toward the greenhouse. Once again, we made our way through the fairy garden of foliage to Cecile’s laboratory at the back.
She had told me she had worked most of the night, and it was evident. There were bottles and beakers and a great many other pieces of equipment scattered about. The scent in the air was fresher than it had been the last time I was here. It smelled of living flowers now rather than dried ones.
“Please excuse the mess,” she said. “I got rather carried away. Once I begin making a scent, it is as though I am almost unaware of my surroundings.”
“I greatly appreciate your taking the time to finish it,” I said. “You needn’t have rushed.”
“I was inspired,” she replied, picking up a bottle. “I combined several scents, and I think you will find it to your liking.”
She unstopped the bottle of perfume that she had created and held it out to me. I breathed deeply of the scent. While I had known it would be a quality scent, I had not expected the reaction it would evoke, the uncanny sensation of happiness and longing and nostalgia it created within me. She had taken the information I had given her—my likes, feelings, and memories—and had somehow managed to put it into a bottle.
“It’s wonderful,” I said sincerely. “I love it.”
A small smile touched her lips. “I thought it would please you. It is a very complex scent. Most notable are the sweet aromas of gardenia, jasmine, and tuberose, but there are also notes of patchouli, sandalwood, and myrrh, among other things. There’s an earthiness behind the floral notes that grounds them. It has a poised and elegant exterior with a strength beneath the surface. Much like yourself, I believe.”
I could not argue with this assessment, and I found it touching somehow that she had detected it in me. “It’s perfect,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear you say so. Of course, this is only the prototype. The scent will be layered more subtly when we create it officially.”
“I can’t believe it will smell any lovelier than this.”
“You may take that with you, if you like. I’ve written down the necessary formula.” She picked up one of her scent journals from the table, but in doing so, she knocked over a bottle that rested too near the edge. It wavered for a moment before it fell onto the flagstone flooring, shattering into several large pieces.
The base had fallen with a little liquid still in it, and, without thinking, I reached to pick it up. She quickly caught my hand. “You must not touch that, Mrs. Ames. It will absorb through the skin and harm you. There are a great many things in here that are harmful to the touch, I’m afraid. I’ll clean it up later.”
We left the mess and walked back through the greenhouse and returned to the courtyard.
“This may be good-bye, Madame Ames,” she said. “I have my doubts that I will return to Paris before you and your husband return to London.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what had brought about this decision to leave Paris, but, as usual, she was not one to elaborate.
“You’ll be in touch about the payment?” I asked.
“Yes, Anton will handle it,” she said. “In fact, you will find him in the drawing room, should you want to leave him an address where he may reach you. We are going to put L’Ange de Mémoire into production, so I must devote the whole of my attention to its success. My father’s good name rests upon it. The formula is a complicated one, and so I must oversee it myself.”
“The formula?” I repeated. They had the formula? This revelation was startling. How was it that it had been discovered?
“Yes, the formula for the perfume. We are a bit behind on its production. It was briefly misplaced among my father’s things, you see,” she said, answering my unspoken question. “He was constantly moving things from room to room when he worked on them. It was Michel who discovered it only last night, a great relief to all of us, I can assure you.”
So Michel had discovered the missing formula, had he? If he had taken it from the safe, why had he brought it back? Was that what he had retrieved from the woman’s flat? Perhaps he had known that his father’s mistress had vacated her lodgings and had hidden it there, as a means of insurance, until he could make sure his inheritance was secured.
“Yes,” I said absently. “I imagine so. I know the world will be glad that L’Ange de Mémoire will soon be released.”
“Yes,” she said. “Parfumes Belanger will continue on as it was. It is my hope that we can create a fitting legacy.”
“Of course,” I said thoughtfully. I was glad that Helios Belanger’s perfume formula had been discovered, but I had lost what I had assumed to be a very likely motive for his murder.
I left Cecile and went back into the house and to the drawing room. Too late I heard the murmur of voices. I walked in to find Beryl Belanger in Anton’s arms.
They practically sprang apart as I entered.
“Oh, Mrs. Ames,” Beryl said, her pale skin flushing crimson. “Anton and I were just … I was feeling very upset, and he…”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I came to leave you my address, Monsieur Belanger.”
Anton’s expression was dark. He was, I supposed, angry both that they had been discovered and at the situation itself.
“There is paper on the desk,” he said.
I went to it and wrote down my London address. When I turned back to them, they were both watching me. Beryl was wringing her hands, though she didn’t seem to realize it. “I know how this must look, but I…”
I smiled, hoping to reassure her. “You needn’t explain.”
“But I must,” she said. “It isn’t … It isn’t how it looks.”
The situation was growing very uncomfortable, and I wished I could think of some graceful way to make my exit. It was Anton, however, who decided to take his leave.
“If you will excuse me,” he said, walking from the room before either of us could say anything.
Beryl turned to me, tears glistening in her blue eyes. “He doesn’t know what to do about this,” she said. “Neither of us have an answer.”
I was about to again protest that she needn’t explain herself to me, but she went on before I could, the words spilling out as though they had been held at bay too long.
“Helios was kind to me, and I cared for him. I thought we could be happy, and we were for a time. But this past year, he became so distant. He was not at all like the man I married. I felt isolated, and Anton was kind to me. Almost before I realized what had happened, I began to fall in love with him. He feels the same way. But we have been circumspect. We haven’t … I remained faithful to Helios.”
I wondered if this was true. Whatever the case, it was really none of my business.
“Nevertheless, I have felt so much guilt over it. You see, the night that Helios died, I was not with him. Anton and I spent the night in the Jardin du Luxembourg. We talked the night away. Only talked, I swear it. But the next morning, Helios was found dead, and I couldn’t help but think that if I had been there I might have done something…”
“It isn’t likely you could have done anything to help him,” I said. I certainly didn’t know that, but I didn’t think the killer would have been thwarted by her presence.
It crossed my mind that sh
e and Anton might have poisoned him and then left the house to remove themselves from suspicion. Their whereabouts, in the park alone all night, could be more easily interpreted as a motive than an alibi, however, and I didn’t think either of them so careless that they would have risked being seen together the night Helios Belanger died.
“We both have so much guilt,” she said. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Perhaps it will all work out,” I said tactfully.
“No,” she said, the tears welling again. “We can never be together.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I am his stepmother,” she said in a horrified whisper.
It was a bit of an unusual situation, to be a certain. A horrible scandal would no doubt ensue should they make their relationship public.
“I don’t know what the answer is,” I said. “But there are worse things than scandal.”
She looked at me with glistening eyes. “Do you really think so?”
“I have lived through a good deal,” I said. “People forget.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, Mrs. Ames. I don’t know what will happen, but you have given me hope.”
“I wish you every happiness, Beryl,” I said sincerely.
I left the house, not entirely sure what to think of that particular situation. I certainly didn’t envy them, and I hoped time could bring about some kind of resolution.
* * *
I RETURNED TO the hotel, my mind in a whirl with all I had learned, especially that the formula had been rediscovered. If Helios Belanger had not been killed for the perfume formula, then what was the reason for his murder? I had been so sure that if we discovered who had taken the formula, we would be able to find his killer. Now it seemed that we were back at the beginning.
If it was a murder for profit, it still might have been any of Helios Belanger’s family. My mind went back again to the draft of the will that I had secreted from his office, but the document I had seen had clearly not been intended to be legally binding. In all likelihood Anton’s assertion that his father meant to leave the entirety of Parfumes Belanger to him had been nothing but bluster.
Who, then, was the likeliest to have wanted him dead? Cecile had loved her father, and had been his right hand. I could see no reason why she might have chosen to kill him now. Even if she had wanted to take control of his business, after the release of L’Ange de Mémoire would have been a better time. His sudden death had only complicated matters, made the release unsure.
The Essence of Malice Page 23
