Read Online Murder On The Rue Cassette (A Serafina Florio Mystery) by Susan Russo Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

over the world and in all manner of dress who are not used to
wearing hats, especially if their climate is warm. But the right hat brings out
the unique mystery of a face. And both of you have such interesting faces, I
welcome the chance to design for you.”
    The designer stuck a wool hat on
Serafina. Ridiculous, too much red, it clashed with the rose color of her dress
and made her hair look like an orange spider’s nest. But the designer fussed
with it, shaping the brim, experimenting with different angles, with feathers,
ribbons, veils. “No, no, won’t do,” the woman muttered. “But wait,” she said,
through the pins in her mouth while her fingers flew. From her pocket she
pulled out a small flower in various shades of rose and dark red, held it to
one side, wedged in a large curving feather and a few light green velvet leaves
and pinned the arrangement to the silk moiré ribbon with a turquoise clasp.
    “Now, Madame, regard,” the
designer said, stepping back, one hand on her creation.
    Serafina looked at her
reflection in the glass. The hat had something, she had to admit. She smiled
into the mirror. “A transformation. You are an artist.”
    Rosa agreed and asked the woman
for her card.
    “Let me do something for you,
Madame. Sit, please.”
    As the designer worked to fashion
a hat for Rosa, Serafina looked at her watch pin.
    “I was hoping to speak with
Madame de Masson, but the gentleman at the desk told me she had an appointment.
Do you expect her back soon?”
    The woman seemed not to have
heard the question. Serafina asked it again.
    “Yes, Madame, she should be back
soon. Her doctor’s office is around the corner, on a small street in back of
the store, the Rue St. Arnaud. We expect her very soon, to be sure.”
    “Dear me, I hope nothing’s
wrong,” Rosa said.
    The designer was silent.
    “So there is something wrong,”
Rosa said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
    “Nothing any of us can mend, I’m
afraid. She’s losing her eyesight, poor woman.”
    Church bells chimed the hour.
    “No more time. Best be going,”
Rosa said and tugged at Serafina’s sleeve.

 
 
 
 
    Chapter
9: The Prefect of Paris

 
    On the way to their appointment with the prefect, Serafina
thought about what she’d heard from the designer at Busacca et Fils.
    “If Sophie’s going blind, how
could she have identified Elena?” Rosa asked.
    “I’m increasingly uneasy about
her ability to identify anything, let alone the body of a niece whom, by
admission, she seldom saw.”
    “You mean Elena’s alive?”
    “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
    “Past who?”
    “Elena, of course.”
    “That’s interesting,” the madam
said. “Why are we here?”
    “To sort out the mystery, of
course.”
    “But that’s not why Busacca
commissioned you, is it?”
    “Don’t split hairs. Perhaps,
just perhaps, I can bring her back to life.”
    Rosa waved a hand back and forth
in front of her face while Serafina wrote in her notebook.
    “Anyway, this investigation is
becoming interesting. Do you remember if Elena was right- or left-handed?”
    “Why would I know a thing like
that?” Rosa asked.
    Serafina was silent as their
carriage turned onto the Rue de Rivoli and was stopped by heavy traffic ahead.
    “Plenty of time,” Rosa said.
“How the French love to parade. But you’ve got to admit, they know how to
dress.”
    They watched as guards with
their plumy hats trotted their horses two by two, trumpets blaring while their
coach waited for them to pass.
    “Perhaps Elena is ambidextrous.
Given her temperament, it figures.”
    Serafina made no reply.
    “There you are, dreaming again.
Loffredo would know, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You haven’t heard from him?”
    Serafina bit her lip. “I sent a
message to his hotel, his usual accommodation in the sixth arrondissement, but
there was no reply.” She took deep breaths.
    Rosa patted Serafina’s hand.
“There must be a reason why he’s not shown