Read Online Macaron Murder (with Recipes) (A Patisserie Mystery) by Harper Lin - Free Book Online
Authors: Harper Lin
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see why he was such a hit with his clients. He was the nicest French dentist she’d ever met. The other ones had only reprimanded her for not brushing enough. It was easy to get swept up in Phillipe’s charm and compliments.
“Speaking of this neighbourhood,” Clémence started. “It’s a shame about la gardienne, huh?”
“Yes,” Phillipe said without a beat. “Awful.”
“I mean, she’s not very well-liked, but I can’t believe someone would do this, and in our building too.”
“I don’t believe it either.”
“Did you know her well?”
“Not well,” he said. “She often wanted to chat at inconvenient times, like when I’m coming to work. I think she had a little crush on me really.”
“A crush on you?” Clémence said.
“Well, don’t tell my wife or she’d get jealous, but la gardienne was always trying to make excuses to see me, and she made me go inside her apartment a couple of times when I was going home from work. She claimed that she had toothaches. I’d quickly check her teeth but both times they were fine. I was pretty sure that she was faking it to get attention.”
“Wow, that sounds…”
“Desperate, I know. But she’s a lonely woman with nothing to do all day but to listen in on other people’s conversations and getting into the residents’ business. She was always trying to tell me what she knew, as if I’d be interested by her gossip.”
“What did she know?” Clémence asked.
“Funny, the inspector asked me the same thing this morning. But I suppose this is common gossip in the building anyhow. Apparently the cleaner who lives on the roof—do you know her? I think her name is Lara.”
“I might have seen her around,” Clémence said vaguely.
“Well, I think that she’s having a love affair with Arthur Dubois, from the third floor.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and Madame Dubois is not very pleased with it.”
“Wow, really?”
She could see why Madame wouldn’t be very pleased. She only wanted her son to date upper class girls, but it did always seem that Arthur had a thing for forbidden fruit.
CHAPTER 12
It all made sense…or did it? Lara and Arthur were in love and la gardienne was going to expose them, so Lara whacked her. Or arthur whacked her. Was Arthur even the type to fall in love? Something more must’ve been at stake here, but what? Money?
Clémence considered asking Lara, but figured she would have to question Arthur anyway, even if he was the embodiment of the type of men she detested. It wouldn’t be hard. He usually walked the family dog at night, before dinner. She could walk Miffy later than usual and casually join him.
After she left the dentist office, she pressed the elevator button to go back up to the fifth floor. The door opened to reveal Inspector Cyril St. Clair inside the elevator.
Clémence inwardly groaned. Cyril didn’t look too enthused to see her either and gave an obliged “bonjour”. Even at his rudest, a proper Frenchman couldn’t not say hello.
“Am I still a suspect?” Clémence asked. She was squeezed tight next to the inspector in the tiny elevator, even though he was tall and thin.
“You’re lucky,” he said. “We didn’t find any evidence against you. But I still have my eye on you.”
“Did you find anyone’s fingerprints or anything?”
“That is none of your business.”
The elevator stopped on the third floor.
“Oh, so is a Dubois a suspect?” Clémence asked.
“Stay out of it,” Cyril groaned.
He stepped out, pulling on his trench coat so it wouldn’t get stuck between the closing elevator doors. In the spring, many men wore these light beige colored jackets. It was either that or black jackets. Many Frenchmen dressed in the same classic style. Clémence recalled the wooden button. She wondered if Arthur had a jacket like that. She usually saw him in his lame cashmere sweaters in a
“Speaking of this neighbourhood,” Clémence started. “It’s a shame about la gardienne, huh?”
“Yes,” Phillipe said without a beat. “Awful.”
“I mean, she’s not very well-liked, but I can’t believe someone would do this, and in our building too.”
“I don’t believe it either.”
“Did you know her well?”
“Not well,” he said. “She often wanted to chat at inconvenient times, like when I’m coming to work. I think she had a little crush on me really.”
“A crush on you?” Clémence said.
“Well, don’t tell my wife or she’d get jealous, but la gardienne was always trying to make excuses to see me, and she made me go inside her apartment a couple of times when I was going home from work. She claimed that she had toothaches. I’d quickly check her teeth but both times they were fine. I was pretty sure that she was faking it to get attention.”
“Wow, that sounds…”
“Desperate, I know. But she’s a lonely woman with nothing to do all day but to listen in on other people’s conversations and getting into the residents’ business. She was always trying to tell me what she knew, as if I’d be interested by her gossip.”
“What did she know?” Clémence asked.
“Funny, the inspector asked me the same thing this morning. But I suppose this is common gossip in the building anyhow. Apparently the cleaner who lives on the roof—do you know her? I think her name is Lara.”
“I might have seen her around,” Clémence said vaguely.
“Well, I think that she’s having a love affair with Arthur Dubois, from the third floor.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and Madame Dubois is not very pleased with it.”
“Wow, really?”
She could see why Madame wouldn’t be very pleased. She only wanted her son to date upper class girls, but it did always seem that Arthur had a thing for forbidden fruit.
CHAPTER 12
It all made sense…or did it? Lara and Arthur were in love and la gardienne was going to expose them, so Lara whacked her. Or arthur whacked her. Was Arthur even the type to fall in love? Something more must’ve been at stake here, but what? Money?
Clémence considered asking Lara, but figured she would have to question Arthur anyway, even if he was the embodiment of the type of men she detested. It wouldn’t be hard. He usually walked the family dog at night, before dinner. She could walk Miffy later than usual and casually join him.
After she left the dentist office, she pressed the elevator button to go back up to the fifth floor. The door opened to reveal Inspector Cyril St. Clair inside the elevator.
Clémence inwardly groaned. Cyril didn’t look too enthused to see her either and gave an obliged “bonjour”. Even at his rudest, a proper Frenchman couldn’t not say hello.
“Am I still a suspect?” Clémence asked. She was squeezed tight next to the inspector in the tiny elevator, even though he was tall and thin.
“You’re lucky,” he said. “We didn’t find any evidence against you. But I still have my eye on you.”
“Did you find anyone’s fingerprints or anything?”
“That is none of your business.”
The elevator stopped on the third floor.
“Oh, so is a Dubois a suspect?” Clémence asked.
“Stay out of it,” Cyril groaned.
He stepped out, pulling on his trench coat so it wouldn’t get stuck between the closing elevator doors. In the spring, many men wore these light beige colored jackets. It was either that or black jackets. Many Frenchmen dressed in the same classic style. Clémence recalled the wooden button. She wondered if Arthur had a jacket like that. She usually saw him in his lame cashmere sweaters in a
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