Chapter 26
We retreated to our rooms. The women went to dry their rain-soaked hair, touch up their makeup, and change clothes.
Some of the men lingered in the main lounge, chatting and watching the storm’s progression.
Lightning began to flash in the distance, and the thunder shook the ground beneath my feet, or so it seemed. I’ve always been afraid of storms.
At the sight of the sky, Dubois had no other choice but to call off the brunch.
I dragged Gina to my suite so we could talk in peace. We discarded our wet clothes into the bathtub and changed into comfortable attire.
Knowing that the walls of the house were paper-thin (anyone could have been eavesdropping with their ear pressed against the door, like I had been moments before), I turned on the hairdryer.
“It’s a shame it’s raining,” Gina shouted over the noise.
She sat on the floor while I stood, hairdryer in hand, waiting for her to speak.
“So?” I asked, nudging her for more.
Gina collapsed onto the floor with a flourish, her back pressing against it with exaggerated relief, her arms splayed out above her head. “Ah! It’s perfect!” she sighed.
I raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Sorry?”
“Elo?se!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Norman filled me in on everything about her. I know the best relationships thrive on discovering things about your partner as time passes… but I just couldn’t resist!”
“What about the inheritance? The money? The Club?”
Gina sat up, brushing off her dramatic pose. “Oh, that.”
I mirrored her with a teasing lilt. “Oh, that,” I echoed, my tone dripping with mockery.
“I told him Elo?se had mentioned something about an inheritance,” Gina said, biting her lower lip. “I hope he doesn’t tell her anything about the conversation, otherwise… I’ll look like a gold digger.”
I felt a twinge of guilt. I was making my friend probe into the personal matters of a girl she had just met. If things went awry between them, it would, in part, be my fault.
I lowered the hairdryer’s power and sat beside Gina, folding my knees beneath me. “Tell me about your conversation with Norman.”
Gina nodded, mulling it over. “He seemed to know everything. He mentioned that Elo?se isn’t happy.”
I let out a heavy sigh. Gina’s brow creased in concern.
“I’d heard something along those lines,” I murmured.
“Did Enzo tell you anything?”
I said yes and began telling her what I had overheard during my investigations in Laurent Dubois’s office. Gina’s frown deepened.
“Is that what you heard?” she asked, pursing her lips. “Hmm. Norman didn’t seem to think the problem was Elo?se taking too long to collect the inheritance, but…”
She paused and took a long breath.
“What?”
“The money is missing. Someone drained Antonia Hawtrey-Moore’s accounts just before her death. There were supposed to be fifty million pounds in there, between what she was donating and what she was leaving her family, but it’s all gone.”
“What?” I exclaimed, unable to contain my shock. Elo?se, who, according to Enzo, had gone to great lengths to ensure her mother’s inheritance was hers, wasn’t upset about the delay in receiving it… She was upset because there was no inheritance to receive!
“Do you think Antonia might have falsified her accounts?” Gina asked, after considering the situation. “Maybe she was declaring less than she really had. I don’t think ten million for Elo?se is enough.”
“Rich people wanting to get richer. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“If someone knew…”
“They might have stolen the money and then killed Antonia,” I answered.
My voice trembled. I wasn’t sure how coherent my theories were or if they were starting to sound delusional. The whole situation felt like a nightmare.
Gina tilted her head. “Hadn’t they managed to arrest Julian Garros because of a tip-off? Someone must have betrayed him.”
We had arrived at a hypothesis: if the person who stole the money and killed Antonia knew her history as Garros’s client, they must have had access to her accounts… and they surely made sure not to leave any loose ends.
“André told me when he gave me the Garros case. Whoever tipped him off must have had a big reason to want him behind bars.”
A few hours earlier, I believed my money came from Elo?se and that the killer was Timotheo Larousse.
Now I wasn’t so sure… about the second part, at least. Oh, come on.
I still believed the money from the Club Montari came from her.
Where was she getting money from to live the way she was living if, according to Enzo, she was broke?
I didn’t bring this up with Gina. I was still trying to work on my emotional intelligence.
She pinched her nose, a sign she was developing a headache. “Maybe you should talk to him again.”
“Who? André?”
She raised her eyebrows. “He’s your boss, right? He’s the one who got you into this mess.”
She was right. André knew Timotheo Larousse. And he was the one who decided to take the Garros case.
I searched for my phone among my scattered belongings on the bed—which had been made up with fresh sheets, thanks to the staff—and moved to the window.
It was a habit I had picked up from my mother, talking on the phone while looking outside.
It seemed to help me focus better on what the person on the other end was saying.
“I’m going to call him right now,” I said, searching for “Saidi, André” in my contacts.
Gina stood up, slipping into a pair of white slippers that had also appeared in our rooms the night before. “Great. Let me know later, okay?” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I’m going to my room. I want to sleep until dinner time, at least.”
“How long do you plan to stay with the Dubois?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Until Elo?se returns to London, I suppose.”
I nodded. I would return to London alone. I wished her a good rest, and once I was alone, I called my boss.
André picked up on the third ring. “What do you want?” he asked with a sigh.
“I want many things,” I replied, unable to hide my smile. “But right now, I only need one: information.”
“That might be doable,” he said.
Before speaking, the image of Bastian flashed in my mind. Bastian, who had discovered that Antonia had been a client of Garros. Bastian, who was in the Dubois’ mansion with the same goal as me. Maybe he had already spoken to his uncle. Maybe André would find what I was about to tell him familiar.
“I’m asking you this as a coworker. Do you know anything about Larousse’s case that might be related to the Garros’s case?”
The silence confirmed my suspicions.
“It’s important, André,” I pressed.
At last, my boss gave in. “Bastian told me yesterday that he believed Antonia was Garros’s last client. Since he’s unwilling to name names, he was going to request permission tomorrow to review the documents that might have belonged to her.”
“Are you going to investigate her accounts?” I asked, sure that Gina had hit the nail on the head.
“Accounts, properties, the will. We’re going to review every document Antonia left behind; hopefully, one of them will confirm our suspicions.”
“Do you plan to clear Larousse of the charges with the evidence you find?”
André cleared his throat. I pulled the phone away from my ear.
“It’s still too early to know that.”
Outside, the rain kept pouring, hammering against the window.
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Vera…” André warned before hanging up. “I suggest you focus on tomorrow’s trial. It’s very important to Saidi.”
I knew. I was going to do my best not to mess it up.
“I’ll try,” I replied. “But after the trial, I want to know if you’ve found out anything, please.”
André, mimicking my voice, said he would try.
He hung up.
With a sigh, I tossed my phone onto the bed.
Then I stepped away from the window and searched for a jacket among Elo?se’s pile of clothes, now folded on a chair and sorted by colour.
I picked a yellow one. Draping it over my shoulders, I packed my few belongings into the backpack I had brought with me and checked the time.
It was only a quarter past one in the afternoon.
Unlike Gina, I had slept well and didn’t feel like going back to bed.
I also wasn’t comfortable with the idea of going to sleep in that house while everyone else, except my friend, was still awake.
Which meant it was time for me to go home.
I tied my hair back in a ponytail, slipped my phone into my pocket, and, with my backpack on my back, headed down to the main lounge.