Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(22)
There had been unlikely combinations in financial crimes. They were the prompt, the literal thing that drew attention and started an investigation. Investigations that often led to ugliness far beyond stolen wealth to human trafficking, drugs, lives destroyed. Violent crimes appeared to be the opposite. The thing that drew attention was seemingly the worst on offer—the taking of a human life. Instinctively Agnes knew it wasn’t the worst on offer and that ultimately they would find the dark and spoiled thing that led to Felicity Cowell’s death. That was what she was looking for. The root of evil. Vladimir Arsov understood. He also knew that evil knew how to hide.
“Last night your aunt said that Monsieur Mulholland lives here, but you don’t know him well?”
“He’s visited over the years but I was always away myself. And I’ve lived mostly in London for some time. I think Mulholland’s on an extended visit now. It’s kind of him, really. Antoinette is very much alone since my father died. Only our housekeeper, cook, chauffeur, and a few maids live here. Antoinette doesn’t count the students who rotate through from university, although I suppose they are introduced to her upon arrival. And of course Mimi lives here with her nanny.” He lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the glare. “I hope the poor woman wasn’t trapped on a road when the storm hit. I’m certain my chauffeur is enjoying himself at the hotel in the village, drinking on my tab.”
“Your brother and his wife also live here.”
“Stuck here is more accurate.” Vallotton moved into shadow. “Daniel was heli-skiing—jumping from a damn helicopter onto the top of a godforsaken inaccessible slope—when he hurt himself. He and MC don’t really live anywhere. They wander around the world while Daniel searches for adventure. They’ll stay here until he heals, then if ski season is over they’ll head to Rio or somewhere exotic.”
Agnes resisted commenting on the Vallottons’ way of life and turned to leave, needing to see the bench and grove up close in the light of day.
“I don’t suppose Mademoiselle Cowell could have been killed by someone we don’t know?” Vallotton asked as he held a door open and turned on his flashlight. It was a different staircase from the one Agnes had used to come up, and very dark. The spiral was tight and so narrow it was dizzying, like walking down a vertical tunnel.
“Not likely, but we’re looking.” They reached the bottom step and exited into an elegantly furnished sitting room. When shut behind them, the door to the stair appeared to vanish into the woodwork.
Vallotton noted her expression. “You must have come up the original stairs.”
They emerged into the corridor and Agnes wondered how they were to piece together where everyone was at what time the day before. How many concealed passages were there? Or stairways? She would check the walls of her bedroom carefully before sleeping there another night.
“You spoke with Officer Petit about finding the body, but I wouldn’t mind hearing what happened for myself.” She started to reach for another cigarette but distracted herself by pulling out her notebook.
“Little to tell. My driver dropped me at the top of the hill and I put him up in the Croix Blanche. He didn’t want to risk the walk down, and he was right. I nearly killed myself. Slid halfway down on the ice, and it’s a miracle I didn’t break a leg. That’s why I assumed Mademoiselle Cowell had fallen and hit her head.”
“Why were you so far away from the chateau in that weather?”
“Our housekeeper, Madame Puguet, was waiting when I came in the front door. She told me Mimi was pulling one of her disappearing acts. Usually that means she’s at Arsov’s since he lets her have the run of the place. I set off to retrieve her and that’s when I practically fell over the body. Did literally fall and see her there, frozen. It was clear she was dead and didn’t need a doctor. It never occurred to me, or to any of us, that she had been killed.”
Vallotton pushed open a heavy door and clicked off his flashlight. These rooms were flooded with daylight. “It happened quickly. One minute I was worried about falling, and the next was in a panic to find what scared Mimi so badly. Then I slipped and saw what had. We ran straight to Arsov’s—it was closer—and called the gendarmerie.”
“Mimi was frightened? She found the body before you?” Agnes’s hand fluttered to her pocket for a cigarette, but she stilled it. How had they missed that the girl discovered the body? “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“I was on my way to Arsov’s to see if Mimi was there. It’s faster to cut across the lawn and I angled up through the grove, mainly for protection from the wind. The storm was in a lull but it was still intense.”
“Why didn’t you call them and ask?”
Vallotton grimaced. “I offered to go. I was trying to delay seeing my family and I’d already been out in the weather, a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Expected to find Mimi cajoling one more cup of hot chocolate and planned to share a bottle of wine with Arsov. He has a case of—” He stopped before she could interrupt him. “Back to the point. I had my head down against the wind. I didn’t see Mimi until she ran into me. She was crying. Hysterical. She pulled me along, deeper into the grove than I would have gone otherwise, and I slipped on the ice. That’s when I saw Mademoiselle Cowell. I fell and she was there, on the ground in front of me. Not two feet away. Her face was icy.” He glanced around as if to erase the image. “But I recognized her, or thought I knew who she had to be. A bit of face and the top of her dress was visible. It was enough.”