Could Kevin have been blackmailed? She didn’t seem overwrought as she discussed the subject with Inspector Jaglom, but again, I couldn’t hear every word.
My eyes popped open. What if Savannah was the one being blackmailed? But wait. There was no way Savannah had ever done anything sordid enough to merit being blackmailed. And if she had, she would’ve told me or I would’ve guessed. Her ability to maintain a poker face was even worse than mine.
I tried to shake off the lingering worry and focused on Kevin’s interrogation.
But now Jaglom was standing up, meaning the interview was over. What had I missed while my mind was wandering?
“Thank you, Ms. Moore,” Jaglom said. “If we have more questions, we’ll contact you.”
Damn. Cookbook and blackmail was all I got from Kevin’s conversation and not much explanation of either topic.
So I came up with my own theory. I could only go by her reaction earlier tonight, when Baxter revealed the cookbook. She had appeared shaken and angry. And just now, in her interview with Jaglom, she’d said the word and seemed to feel actual physical pain as she spoke it. At least, that’s what it looked and sounded like to me.
I didn’t think she could have faked that visceral reaction. And to me, her unhappy reaction meant that she couldn’t have stolen the book from Baxter’s kitchen. If she’d stolen it, she would have tried to look calm in order to hide her smug satisfaction about getting it.
Instead, she was distraught, and I wanted to hope that it meant she hadn’t stolen the book and, therefore, couldn’t have killed Baxter. At least, not in the scenario I was currently imagining.
Did that make any sense at all? I would have to think about it later and talk it over with Derek.
Jaglom waved to the cop across the room, who brought Colette over to be interviewed.
Jaglom couldn’t hide his admiration for the beautiful blonde as he stood and waited for her to be seated. Then he sat down and asked Colette if she’d seen anything unusual that evening.
“Nothing at all,” she said, her voice chirpy despite the late hour.
I had no difficulty hearing Colette talk. She had a distinctive, high-pitched voice that carried halfway across town.
And in a heartbeat I remembered meeting the woman when I was in Paris. She had stopped by Savannah’s flat, but I was the only one home. She’d stayed for a few minutes, strolling around the apartment while making small talk. I asked her if she wanted to leave her friends a note or something, but she said she would catch up with them at school the next day. I didn’t see her again during my visit.
Funny that I would remember her by her perky voice and not her appearance. I was usually good with faces and hers would be hard to forget; she must’ve altered her hair and makeup drastically since then. But that voice was the same.
Now Colette told Jaglom the same basic story that we’d heard from Savannah. Raoul had gone back to the hotel earlier than the others. He wasn’t feeling well and Colette was worried about him.
Not so worried that she hadn’t stayed an extra hour to drink with her old buddies, I thought.
“Frankly, I’m glad my husband left early,” Colette said, fiddling nervously with her neck and the collar of her shirt. “He wasn’t himself tonight.”
“Why is that?”
“Well.” She seemed to weigh her next words, then decided to go for it. “It might’ve had something to do with Baxter.”
Jaglom looked up from his notepad. “Why do you say that?”
She sighed. “Well, he sort of hated him.”
“Your husband hated Baxter Cromwell?” Jaglom said.
“Oh, I don’t mean he hated him,” she quickly corrected herself. “I mean, they were old friends. Well, friendly rivals, I guess you could say. All during our time in Paris, the two of them were in competition. You know, they were both good-looking and all the women were mad for them. Even the teachers liked them. They both graduated at the top of the class.”
She was really full of it, I thought. Both men might’ve been considered handsome and talented, but Raoul was also smart and nice, with a good sense of humor. He was so well liked and so gifted that he’d been given several classes of his own to teach.
Baxter, on the other hand, was an opportunistic bastard who’d treated my sister shabbily. In my book, that lost him plenty of points on the handsomeness scale.
And as far as graduating at the top of their class, Savannah had been up there as well. The three of them had been the only ones of their group to go all the way through to receive Le Grande Dipl?me, meaning that they’d successfully completed all the classes of all three levels of cuisine as well as the three levels required to obtain the Dipl?me de Patisserie. They had also received the Dipl?me de Sommellerie, the Wine and Management diploma.