Agnes nearly missed the irony but caught his smile in time. “Thank goodness I had a chance to tell Sybille I made it here, or my kids would be frantic with worry. Now they probably can’t wait to hear all about the place. They’ve seen it from the lake often enough to be curious. Of course, that will only make Sybille more irritated.” She smiled. “But not with them. She takes good care of them. We’re lucky that way, I suppose.”
“I’m only inside to pretend to warm up,” Carnet said, pulling on a second scarf. “I’m going to do another walk along the perimeter of the property. Haven’t found a weapon, and between the two of us, Petit and I have searched every inch of the lawn and the outbuildings.”
“Won’t the plants in the Orangerie die in the cold?” Agnes asked.
“A solar-charged system keeps it above freezing. We’d probably do well to sleep there tonight.” He held his hands to the blaze.
“Robert, I doubt you’ll find anything more outside. Of course we aren’t finding anything inside either. It’s frustrating, all of these little lies. Nick Graves is only the most obvious. Reminds me of my oldest. He can look you right in the eye and lie, but you know it’s a lie because when he’s telling the truth he glances around, interested in everything else that’s happening. The lie makes him think about how his actions are perceived. Wish they’d tell the truth and let us ignore the lies we don’t care about.”
“Which are those?” Carnet turned to warm his backside.
“Right now, I suppose all the ones that don’t lead me to find who killed Felicity Cowell. I really don’t care if they are trafficking heroin, I just want to bring the victim’s murderer to justice.”
“Actually, I think you would care if they were trafficking heroin.”
Agnes rubbed her face and started to laugh. “Okay, so heroin or child pornography, arms trafficking maybe, but nothing else. I have the feeling that everyone tells these small lies, protecting things that aren’t important given what we are trying to do, and if they told the truth we would make some progress. It’s like my kids. The little lies take up so much energy that when they tell the truth it doesn’t seem so important anymore, all those days of concealing and fretting.”
“Keep whittling away. We’ve not found evidence of an outsider. Not that there was much chance of finding that after the storm.”
“That’s the trouble, it will be very easy to have to write this off as the work of a mysterious outsider, particularly now that Felicity Cowell’s background may be a bit unsavory. Part of the time I know that’s what they want. Who wouldn’t?”
“Most people want a crime solved. Otherwise it leaves a long shadow,” said Carnet.
“Julien Vallotton told me he doubted it was the first time someone had been killed here. He’s right, of course, given the long history of the place, but they’re not afraid of gossip. They don’t care what outsiders think, ever. Why should this be any different? They aren’t doing anything to pretend it has to be an outsider. They tell lies that keep the story close.” Agnes looked at Carnet. “Marie-Chantal Vallotton can’t decide whether to punish her husband by pretending he might be the killer or protect him in case … oh, I don’t know from what. I don’t think she really suspects him, but she’s angry.”
“You said you wondered if Daniel Vallotton knew the victim before, from a club in London. A place he wouldn’t want his wife to know he visits.”
“She might be angry at him, but it takes more than anger to kill someone.”
“If Felicity Cowell surprised Daniel, showing up here with a different name from what she uses for her other work, it might be a trigger. She sees an opportunity. Maybe this was her chance to use that job for real money.”
“Blackmail?” Agnes asked, hating the idea.
“She had a chance to talk to his wife, maybe to judge Marie-Chantal’s reaction.”
“That would be easy enough,” said Agnes. “Woman-to-woman chat about an imaginary friend whose husband goes to strip clubs. It could be worse than a club. There is latitude with her doing ‘whatever it took’ to survive. Outright prostitution? She could tailor the story to fit hers perfectly.”
“If Felicity Cowell gets the right answer—an incensed wife—then she threatens Daniel Vallotton. Blackmail is a powerful force. He strikes. You’ve seen him walk with crutches and he’s in incredible physical shape apart from his broken arm and leg.” Carnet turned to warm his front again. “Strong emotion can give people the strength they need to push through pain.”
“Daniel Vallotton definitely could have met Felicity as Courtney. He impresses me as someone who probably frequents clubs. However, he wouldn’t care who knows. If they met at a club I guarantee he’s a card-carrying founding member.”