become an Amanda Knox, or that guy in the Shawshank Redemption .”
“We’re going to do our best,” Michel said.
“Yes,” Clémence added. “You’ll be out of here in no time. I have a good lead as to who the real murderer is.”
Michel looked at her in surprise. “You do? Do the police know?”
“I just need to gather more evidence,” said Clémence. “I’ll tell them if I find out anything more.” She turned back to Raoul. “Now I’m here to find out what you know. What’s this I hear about you getting into a fight with Dupont on the street?”
Raoul sighed. “The guy was a jerk. I’m sorry that he died and everything. I just mean that he really was a jerk. Every time he came in to the store, he’d sneer at me. I didn’t know why until I saw him on the street over a week ago. He called me racist names.”
“What did he say?” Clémence asked.
Raoul was of Portuguese descent. His skin was the color of dark caramel. He told her the offending word, and Clémence nodded in sympathy.
“I had just been taking a smoke break from work and walking around the neighbourhood. He brushed past me and insulted me for no good reason. Of course I got mad and confronted him. It was a very public blow up and I ended up punching him in the eye. I regret it now, of course. It was a very stupid thing to do, but my anger got the best of me.”
“And what did the police say when you told them that?”
“Well, they’re using it again me. They seem to think this is more reason to think I’m guilty.”
“This Dupont guy sounds like a piece of work,” said Clémence. “I can see why somebody would want to kill him.”
“He’s a jerk, through and through.”
“I just hope you don’t say this if you’re ever on trial,” Michel warned. “It doesn’t look good. You had been on the receiving end of his abuse and reacted in the heat of the moment. Poisoned éclairs are premeditated. However, they have no evidence that you had anything to do with them.”
“So you’re saying I have a good chance of being let go?”
Michel nodded. “Unless, of course, they find something else against you.”
“So what do you know about Dupont?” Clémence asked both Michel and Raoul.
“Nothing,” said Raoul. “Except he comes in and buys pastries all the time.”
“He works at a PR company and lives not far from Place d’Iena,” said Michel.
“So he lives and works near Damour ,” Clémence mused. “When he ate those éclairs, he was probably taking a lunch break, taking a long walk around the park.” She turned to Michel again. “Can you give me the address of both his work place and home?”
“I don’t know,” Michel said slowly. “That information is confidential.”
“You can trust her,” said Raoul. “She helped the police solve a murder last month. She’s good. Faster than the police at least. I really don’t know what these guys get paid for.”
He launched into how she had found the person who killed la gardienne .
Michel looked at Clémence more closely. “What are you going to do with this information?”
“Nothing yet,” said Clémence. “I’m just trying to match some details together with the suspect I have in mind.”
Michel relented, nodding. “Okay. But don’t say where you got the information. Dupont is married with no kids. He’s quite wealthy.”
“So he leaves a widow,” said Clémence.
“Her names is Florence. She’s a housewife, and she’s probably making the funeral arrangements. Are you going to talk to her?”
Clémence nodded. “I will as soon as I get some things settled. Thanks for the info.”
CHAPTER 13
At work the next morning, Sebastien and Berenice wanted the scoop on the investigation in the kitchen.
After Clémence filled them in, Celine came in. The salon de thé had not opened yet, and she had just changed into her uniform to
“We’re going to do our best,” Michel said.
“Yes,” Clémence added. “You’ll be out of here in no time. I have a good lead as to who the real murderer is.”
Michel looked at her in surprise. “You do? Do the police know?”
“I just need to gather more evidence,” said Clémence. “I’ll tell them if I find out anything more.” She turned back to Raoul. “Now I’m here to find out what you know. What’s this I hear about you getting into a fight with Dupont on the street?”
Raoul sighed. “The guy was a jerk. I’m sorry that he died and everything. I just mean that he really was a jerk. Every time he came in to the store, he’d sneer at me. I didn’t know why until I saw him on the street over a week ago. He called me racist names.”
“What did he say?” Clémence asked.
Raoul was of Portuguese descent. His skin was the color of dark caramel. He told her the offending word, and Clémence nodded in sympathy.
“I had just been taking a smoke break from work and walking around the neighbourhood. He brushed past me and insulted me for no good reason. Of course I got mad and confronted him. It was a very public blow up and I ended up punching him in the eye. I regret it now, of course. It was a very stupid thing to do, but my anger got the best of me.”
“And what did the police say when you told them that?”
“Well, they’re using it again me. They seem to think this is more reason to think I’m guilty.”
“This Dupont guy sounds like a piece of work,” said Clémence. “I can see why somebody would want to kill him.”
“He’s a jerk, through and through.”
“I just hope you don’t say this if you’re ever on trial,” Michel warned. “It doesn’t look good. You had been on the receiving end of his abuse and reacted in the heat of the moment. Poisoned éclairs are premeditated. However, they have no evidence that you had anything to do with them.”
“So you’re saying I have a good chance of being let go?”
Michel nodded. “Unless, of course, they find something else against you.”
“So what do you know about Dupont?” Clémence asked both Michel and Raoul.
“Nothing,” said Raoul. “Except he comes in and buys pastries all the time.”
“He works at a PR company and lives not far from Place d’Iena,” said Michel.
“So he lives and works near Damour ,” Clémence mused. “When he ate those éclairs, he was probably taking a lunch break, taking a long walk around the park.” She turned to Michel again. “Can you give me the address of both his work place and home?”
“I don’t know,” Michel said slowly. “That information is confidential.”
“You can trust her,” said Raoul. “She helped the police solve a murder last month. She’s good. Faster than the police at least. I really don’t know what these guys get paid for.”
He launched into how she had found the person who killed la gardienne .
Michel looked at Clémence more closely. “What are you going to do with this information?”
“Nothing yet,” said Clémence. “I’m just trying to match some details together with the suspect I have in mind.”
Michel relented, nodding. “Okay. But don’t say where you got the information. Dupont is married with no kids. He’s quite wealthy.”
“So he leaves a widow,” said Clémence.
“Her names is Florence. She’s a housewife, and she’s probably making the funeral arrangements. Are you going to talk to her?”
Clémence nodded. “I will as soon as I get some things settled. Thanks for the info.”
CHAPTER 13
At work the next morning, Sebastien and Berenice wanted the scoop on the investigation in the kitchen.
After Clémence filled them in, Celine came in. The salon de thé had not opened yet, and she had just changed into her uniform to
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