Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(30)

“Look at these fingerprints on the wall.”

Agnes leaned in where Carnet indicated.

“It looks like they belong to whoever vomited,” he said. “We can test for a match. If they were hers it appears that she crouched down and rested on her fingertips pretty hard, then moved them a few inches. As if she was keeping her balance. Fortunately, the stone held the oils. I think she’d put lotion on recently and the surface worked nearly as well as glass. Can’t imagine why anyone would crouch over like this if they weren’t sick.”

“Why was she ill?” Agnes said.

“Stomach virus,” said Blanchard, “ate something that didn’t agree with her. Saw something? Could have simply been in pain. High-level pain causes vomiting, and a heart attack in women is often signaled by vomiting. Won’t know until the autopsy. It’s unusual to have heart attack in someone so young, but not impossible.”

“She looked healthy to me, apart from the injuries.” Agnes studied the surrounding area. There were a few chairs against the wall and farther along was a heavy chest. It was possible there had been a struggle, but nothing appeared disturbed. “Could she have been stabbed here, vomited because of the pain, and made her way outside?”

“Inspector Lüthi, where is the blood?” Blanchard said. “She was stabbed where she fell. That I can tell you. It is just as we worked out earlier.”

“You mentioned food poisoning. What about regular poisoning? Could she have been poisoned and then died of the knife wound?”

Blanchard closed his eyes for a moment. “Of course she could have been poisoned. That might cause vomiting. I still say she died as a result of the knife wound, not poisoned then stabbed … An autopsy will clarify this.”

“I’m interested in more than cause of death,” said Agnes. “I want to know how she spent her last hours.”

“If she were poisoned to the extent that she was vomiting, then I might expect to see continued distress at the site of her death.”

“Outside, she would have been hunched over, crippled with pain?”

“You are speculating too far, Inspector.”

Agnes turned to Carnet. “Robert, could you talk to the maid again and see if anything is out of place here? Something that would indicate a struggle, ask if the chairs have been moved or if something is missing.” Then an idea occurred to her. “Doctor, could she be pregnant? I was deathly ill with my first child. All day. Never-ending.”

“She didn’t look pregnant,” said Carnet.

Agnes shook her head. “I didn’t think she was about to deliver, but she might have morning sickness.”

Doctor Blanchard murmured agreement.

“More importantly,” Agnes continued, “she might have known she was pregnant. I’m interested in her state of mind. You can draw urine even though she is … cold, can’t you?”

“Urine has a great deal of salt and ammonia. It doesn’t freeze at these temperatures. The trouble is getting at it. And she might not have any in her bladder. It will be an invasive test done this way.”

“She’s going to be autopsied, you can’t get more invasive than that, and being pregnant might play into her mental condition.” Agnes looked around, making sure Petit hadn’t joined them. “Not every woman wants to be pregnant. Sometimes it’s just the initial surprise or the timing. She may have been angry or depressed or scared. If she’d just found out, she might have been in an altered state of mind. It could have pushed her to behave inappropriately.”

“I can try to get a sample but I still need a method to test it.”

Agnes had a distinct memory of a familiar box among the toiletries in the cook’s well-stocked storeroom. Either the pregnancy test was bought and never needed or was part of the cook’s desire to provide for any eventuality. It didn’t matter. It was exactly what the doctor needed. “Leave finding a means to test it to me.”

“While you’re working your miracles, I’ll do my part.” The doctor paused before leaving, nodding to Carnet. “Tell her about the knife.”

“Did you know that a pear knife is not really pointed? It’s got a nice blade for cutting the fruit skin but isn’t long—”

“Or dangerous?”

“That’s another way to put it. The doctor got a laugh out of the idea. Says our weapon looks like a weapon. Long and sharp. More like a dagger than a knife.”

What kind of blade could cut through an entire body, creating these wounds? “We’ve ruled out no one,” she said. “I need to speak to the cook again, then I’ll take a quick look upstairs where you found her clothes before I talk to the little girl.”

Carnet gave her a half salute before walking off in the other direction. Halfway up a flight of broad stairs she heard voices: Julien Vallotton and his sister-in-law. After climbing a few more steps she slowed. They didn’t know she was listening.

“I count the pills, that’s how I know he didn’t take one. He was no more drugged yesterday afternoon than I was,” Marie-Chantal said.

“Why would Daniel lie?” Vallotton asked.

“With your alibi, you forget that the rest of us aren’t so lucky.”

“I think it takes more than being here to make you a suspect. Motive is usually a consideration, and what possible motive could Daniel have for killing a woman he barely knew?”