by Harper Lin
“Zach Brant. He didn’t get along with Nicole on set for some reason. Was it a clashing of two big egos, or sexual tension? I haven’t met him either, but their disdain for each other seems to be common knowledge among the crew. Sarah’s going to be shooting all day tomorrow, and Zach’s getting the day off, so Sophie’s arranged it so I can go to the hotel and talk to Zach at the bar. My plan is to get him to talk, about anything at all. Something’s gotta slip.”
“So those are your two main suspects? Anyone else?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Clémence brought up the director’s wife, and told him about their encounter with her in Chris’s suite. “Cynthia Collins, née Harper. She falls into the profile of the jealous wife. With all the beauty, money, and privilege in the world, she’d failed as an actress, and now she’s a housewife. Her kids seem to like her, or at least respect her, but she seemed to be bored with her life, and even her own husband was afraid of her. You should’ve seen the way she looked at Sophie and me. If she could hate us, imagine how much she would’ve hated someone like Nicole, who basically grew up in a trailer park. Plus, her husband probably gushed about Nicole and her talent. She must’ve been green with envy.”
“Could she have been cold-blooded enough to kill a young woman and toss her body into the river?” Arthur asked. “Then strangle another young woman to death? It’s not as if she had any martial arts training either.”
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Clémence said. “She was about 5’8”, and I’m sure running around a couple of young kids would require strength. Her look alone could kill.”
Clémence wrote all her thoughts down. Then she reached into her black Alexander Wang purse, which was lying on the floor next to her couch, and pulled out Nicole’s agenda. She flipped to the coded entries.
“I really need to crack the code and figure out who she was meeting. Who—or what—is OVUJOV? If I can crack one, I’ll crack the others.”
Arthur took a look through the agenda. “Why don’t you try to figure out an easy one? Let’s see, on the day before her death, there’s nothing in her agenda except for her call time on set, and this meeting with OVUJOV. That doesn’t help, but what if you try to decode one on a date when she had more appointments? Like this one, August fifteenth. She obviously had the day off. And isn’t ILILIL one of the codes you were trying to crack?”
Clémence looked at her schedule. They listed stores around Rue Saint-Honoré. “Look, she went to Chateau du Chocolat. I doubt Sophie went with her. She says they didn’t know each other at all. ILILIL has to be code for something, because I tried to look it up online and found nothing.”
“What if it’s a person?” Arthur said.
“It’s a possibility. Maybe the decoded name would make more sense. But maybe you’re on to something, because all these stores are around the Rue Saint-Honoré area. If ILILIL is a place, it could be around.”
“It doesn’t hurt to look around and keep your eyes peeled.”
“You know what? After I speak to Zach Brant, I’ll walk around Rue Saint-Honoré and see if there’s anything that could give me a clue.”
“She didn’t do much that day, it seems, except shop in this area,” Arthur added.
Miffy came in, tail wagging and with what looked like a smile on her face. She jumped up onto the couch and buried her face into Clémence’s lap.
Clémence yawned. “Even Miffy’s tired.”
Arthur stood up. “Come on. You should rest early. I know you’ll have a big day ahead of you.”
Chapter 9
“You’re going to meet Zach Brant?” Celine was so excited she was practically jumping up and down. “Can I come?”
Clémence hadn’t realized Celine was behind them when she told Sebastien and Berenice in the kitchen who she was going to see that day.
“He’s a murder suspect,” Clémence said. “It’s not a fan meet and greet.”
“But maybe I can just hang back and just, you know, stare at him.”
“I don’t know if you’d be able to contain yourself,” Sebastien quipped.
“He’s actually right for once,” Berenice said. “You’re squealing at the mention of his name. No way would you be able to keep your cool once you see him again in the flesh.”
Celine scowled. “Fine. You’re probably right. I just love the man too much.”
Sebastien gave her a dubious look. “Even though he might’ve killed Nicole Blake?”
Celine rolled her eyes. “It’s not him. He’s too handsome and talented to be capable of murder.”
“Isn’t one of your ex-boyfriends on trial for murder?” Berenice asked. “Wasn’t he handsome and talented as well?”
“Oh, he wasn’t my boyfriend,” Celine said. “We went out on one date, and that was it. I didn’t know him that well.”
“And you think you know Zach Brant?” Sebastien asked dryly.
“I do,” Celine said defensively.
“Aside from his favorite color and other useless facts, I mean.”
Celine put her hands on her hips. “I’m telling you, Zach wouldn’t do it. He’s a gentleman. He’s a kind person. On his last film, his stunt double broke a leg, and he visited him at the hospital all the time. Plus, whenever he breaks up with a girl, they stay on good terms. He’s the type of guy to treat the whole crew. I heard that he was the one who got his assistant to buy the cast and crew all the Damour stuff.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Berenice said. “Their catering crew buys the food.”
“The food, yes, but not necessarily gourmet desserts from Damour.”
“If he was such a nice guy, why didn’t he get along with Nicole Blake?” Clémence asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Who does get along with Nicole Blake? She had a reputation for being difficult to work with.”
“What if they were dating?”
“No,” Celine said resolutely. “She’s not his type.”
“Why not?” Clémence asked.
“Zach has only gone out with brainy brunettes, based on his last two high-profile romances anyway. Personality-wise, Nicole’s not Zach’s type either. Nicole’s a blonde in looks and in brain.”
“What kind of guy doesn’t like blond bombshells?” Berenice asked.
“Zach Brant,” Celine replied with a tone of exasperation. “He likes the girl-next-door type who’s also smart. He said so in an interview once. Nicole’s sexuality would’ve been too in his face. But there’s always going to be rumors.”
“I did read somewhere that Zach and Nicole were going out,” Sebastien said.
The girls looked at him. Berenice was the most amused. “Where? Closer Magazine?”
“No, in Le Parisien,” he replied.
“You shouldn’t take it seriously,” Celine said. “They were photographed a couple of times around Paris, but they could’ve just been rehearsing, or getting to know each other, since they were supposed to be playing lovers.”
Celine pulled up some tabloid pictures on her phone. In one, they were at a restaurant, at a table. The photo was dim and fuzzy, but she could see that it was the two movie stars. Zach was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, and Nicole was leaning in, smiling. Zach’s body language seemed defensive. It couldn’t have been a date, could it?
“Maybe they had gone out, but they broke up,” Berenice suggested. “And now they hate each other.”
Sebastien shrugged. “Some people just don’t get along in highly pressurized settings, especially when they have to work together twenty-four, seven. It’s a miracle I’ve able to tolerate you guys for so long. So maybe the real reason was simple. Their personalities just didn’t click. Isn’t it obvious by the photo here? Zach obviously despises Nicole, and Nicole seems oblivious.”
When Clémence got to the Athena Hotel, Sophie hadn’t arrived yet. She’d texted Clémence to say that the director had called her to go on set at the last minute, but that Zach had confirmed that he’d be in the Blue Bar.
>
Without Sophie to introduce her, it would be more awkward to approach him, but then again, interrogating a murder suspect was never easy. Clémence took a deep breath and entered the bar. Even from afar, Zach made a strong impression. There were certain men whose beauty glowed as much as women’s, and Zach was one of them. Dressed down in a gray V-neck tee and faded blue jeans, he was hunched over his table, drinking something on the rocks and reading his phone. At ten thirty in the morning, the bar was not busy, but the handful of patrons, women and men, kept darting glances over at the dirty-blond actor.
Clémence was surprised to find herself a bit intimidated by him. She wasn’t a huge fan and thought his acting was on the bland side. Usually she found celebrities to be a bit of a disappointment when she met them in person, but she was surprised to find Zach to be even better looking in real life. His skin was tanned, bringing out the blue of his eyes. And with those muscular shoulders and forearms, he obviously spent time in the gym.
When she approached the bar, he looked up at her with alarm. Then his beautiful mouth turned upwards into a knowing smile. He probably thought she was a fan wanting an autograph.
“Bonjour, I’m Clémence.”
Since he was American, she stuck out her hand, and he shook it. He gave her a lightning-quick once-over, but he didn’t seem to be checking her out so much as sizing her up. Clémence spoke right away.
“I know you’re here to meet Sophie, but she got called on set, and she told me to give you the message that she wasn’t going to make it.”
“Oh.” Zach frowned, but nodded. “She said she wanted to speak to me about something important.”
“I can fill you in. Do you mind if I join you?”
Zach looked reluctant. “Um. Sure.”
“Actually, she called you here because I was the one who wanted to speak to you.”
That knowing smile spread back onto his face. “Clémence, is it?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I’m sure you’re very nice, and you’re very pretty, but I just got out of a breakup, and, well—”
Clémence was too stunned to laugh. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. I’m not a fan.”
“Oh.” He looked surprised then slightly offended. “You’re not?”
“No. Well. I mean, you’re good in your movies and everything, but I’m not here on some, you know, romantic quest.”
This was certainly getting awkward. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry out of embarrassment.
“I’m sure that you have lots of girls chasing after you,” Clémence continued, “but I’m not one of them. Also, uh, I have a boyfriend.”
Zach ran a hand through his hair. “God, I must’ve sounded arrogant.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t blame you for assuming that,” Clémence reassured him.
“Sorry. Do you want something to drink? I know it’s a little too early for alcohol.”
“I’m fine. I just had a coffee. I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent deaths of Nicole and Rachel.”
Zach examined her with new interest. “Are you a cop?”
“Well, no. But I do have some questions.”
“I’m confused. They already questioned me a couple of days ago. Who are you?”
“I work with the police and help them with murder cases.”
That was a bit of an exaggeration, considering that Inspector Cyril St. Clair couldn’t stand her. But at least she had their respect, and if push came to shove, St. Clair would agree that she was working for them. They should really be paying her.
“Okay, but I thought you guys had already asked me everything. I was talking to that tall skinny guy for what felt like eternity. What else do you need to know?”
“Rachel Caufman, Nicole’s assistant, died yesterday. Were you aware of that?”
“Yes, I did hear about that. It’s very unfortunate that she would take her life like that.”
Clémence blinked at him. She thought he could’ve sounded more concerned about her death, but if he couldn’t emote well enough for the big screen, perhaps he was simply an inexpressive guy.
“Do you really think Rachel committed suicide?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really know Rachel too well, but she followed Nicole around like a puppy on set. It was her job, I supposed. I heard she killed herself because she was depressed that Nicole had died.”
“And you think that’s a plausible reason for Rachel to kill herself?” Clémence asked.
“Well, no, not for the average person, but Stockholm syndrome, right? I’ve experienced some weird things with fans. They can get a bit…crazy.”
“Do you think Nicole was a likeable person?”
“Well, I didn’t hate her, if that’s what you mean.” There was an edge of defensiveness in Zach’s voice. Clémence was on the right track.
“That’s not what I heard,” she said.
He rubbed a hand over his lips.
“Look, it’s true that we weren’t exactly best friends, but—did you know Nicole?”
“No, but I’m trying to.”
“If you didn’t know her, you’re lucky. She could be cruel, sadistic.”
Clémence raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“She liked to stir things up, cause drama, see people squirm.”
“Did she make you squirm?”
“Sure. She made a lot of people squirm. Her favorite thing to do was to get people around her heated up, then sit back and watch the drama unfold.”
“Is that what she did to you?”
“Tried to.”
Clémence looked deeply into his bright blue eyes. “Did she have something on you?”
Zach blinked back. “What? No. She just didn’t like me.”
“Why not?”
“She didn’t like a lot of people. She’s only nice to people who could help her or benefit her in some way.”
“But why not you? Sarah Briar, I could understand. They’re competition. You’re the leading man. As far as I’ve heard, Nicole’s quite flirtatious with men.”
He shook his head. “At first she was, but I could see through her act, and that’s when she started hating me back. You either suck up to Nicole, like Rachel did, and get her approval, or you don’t and get treated like dirt. I’m Zach Brant. I don’t need some fake actress pushing me around.”
His voice rose with passion as he spoke, causing the bartender to look their way.
“Then why do you have such chemistry on screen?” Clémence said.
“We’re actors. It’s what we get paid for.”
“But don’t you find Nicole attractive?” Clémence asked. “I mean, she was voted Maxim’s hottest woman this year. Any hot-blooded male would find her attractive, right?”
Zach’s eyes widened. Was there fear in his eyes? But why?
“Sure. Of course, she was beautiful. She was hot, even.”
“So weren’t you ever tempted to date her?”
“What does this have to do with the investigation?”
Clémence was firm. “Did you or did you not date?”
“Look, I can have my pick of hot girls. I do take personality into consideration, you know.”
“What about Nicole? Are you saying she tried to seduce you and you didn’t fall for it at all?”
“Would that be so hard to believe? Trust me, I didn’t have a romantic relationship with Nicole. I did think she was interested, but I rejected her, and she took it badly. The atmosphere changed on set. She no longer spoke to me between takes.”
Zach shrugged again and took the last chug of his drink. The ice rattled.
Clémence noticed a bruise on his forearm. Could it have come from a struggle with Rachel last night?
“What were you doing yesterday night?” Clémence asked.
“We were shooting, and I finished at about nine p.m. After that, I went home and crashed.”
“Home as in here, in the hotel?”
&
nbsp; “Yes.” He looked at her, eyes squinting. “Am I a suspect for murder?”
Clémence did feel like he was hiding something. It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it. He was too defensive.
However, what he said was plausible. If Nicole did try to seduce him and her ego got bruised, it might’ve provoked her bad behavior.
When Clémence didn’t answer, his voice rose in detectable fury. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I murder Rachel, who I barely know?”
Clémence kept cool. The better she kept cool, the more Zach would unravel.
“Rachel was poking her nose around. She might’ve had a good idea who really murdered Nicole.”
“And why in hell would you think I murdered Nicole?”
“What did Nicole have over you, Zach?”
His eyes dimmed. She thought she saw a glimmer of fear again, mixed with anger. She’d struck something.
“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t get along with a lot of people.”
“I know she has something over you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Not only did the bartender look their way again, but the other patrons as well.
“I’ll find out,” Clémence said in her low, cool voice.
“Are you done here?” Zach stood up and walked out of the Blue Bar without waiting for a response.
Chapter 10
Clémence talked a good talk, but she wasn’t confident that she would find out what Zach hiding. And he was hiding something, because someone with nothing to hide wouldn’t get angry and defensive so easily. The secret must’ve been something big.
Clémence took a cab to the Faubourg Saint-Honoré district. She got out and started walking down Rue Saint-Honoré. The neighborhood was the crème de la crème of design and fashion. During Paris Fashion week, all the fashionable jet-setters would descend in the area. She passed by Colette, Balenciaga, and Stuart Weitzman, as well as some high-end lingerie and perfume shops. She also passed by Chateau du Chocolat, where Nicole had visited, but where was ILILIL?
She passed the shoe store where Arthur bought his dress shoes in nearly every shade of brown, then she reached Place Vendome, where all the high-end jewelry shops were.
