Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(41)

“That’s the trouble, it will be very easy to have to write this off as the work of a mysterious outsider, particularly now that Felicity Cowell’s background may be a bit unsavory. Part of the time I know that’s what they want. Who wouldn’t?”

“Most people want a crime solved. Otherwise it leaves a long shadow,” said Carnet.

“Julien Vallotton told me he doubted it was the first time someone had been killed here. He’s right, of course, given the long history of the place, but they’re not afraid of gossip. They don’t care what outsiders think, ever. Why should this be any different? They aren’t doing anything to pretend it has to be an outsider. They tell lies that keep the story close.” Agnes looked at Carnet. “Marie-Chantal Vallotton can’t decide whether to punish her husband by pretending he might be the killer or protect him in case … oh, I don’t know from what. I don’t think she really suspects him, but she’s angry.”

“You said you wondered if Daniel Vallotton knew the victim before, from a club in London. A place he wouldn’t want his wife to know he visits.”

“She might be angry at him, but it takes more than anger to kill someone.”

“If Felicity Cowell surprised Daniel, showing up here with a different name from what she uses for her other work, it might be a trigger. She sees an opportunity. Maybe this was her chance to use that job for real money.”

“Blackmail?” Agnes asked, hating the idea.

“She had a chance to talk to his wife, maybe to judge Marie-Chantal’s reaction.”

“That would be easy enough,” said Agnes. “Woman-to-woman chat about an imaginary friend whose husband goes to strip clubs. It could be worse than a club. There is latitude with her doing ‘whatever it took’ to survive. Outright prostitution? She could tailor the story to fit hers perfectly.”

“If Felicity Cowell gets the right answer—an incensed wife—then she threatens Daniel Vallotton. Blackmail is a powerful force. He strikes. You’ve seen him walk with crutches and he’s in incredible physical shape apart from his broken arm and leg.” Carnet turned to warm his front again. “Strong emotion can give people the strength they need to push through pain.”

“Daniel Vallotton definitely could have met Felicity as Courtney. He impresses me as someone who probably frequents clubs. However, he wouldn’t care who knows. If they met at a club I guarantee he’s a card-carrying founding member.”

“Maybe his wife doesn’t like it. Maybe he promised to stop when they married. What a man does when he’s single is not the same when he’s got a wife. Plus he’s a second son, and you’ve gathered that they live a very expensive lifestyle. Possibly more expensive than his older brother’s. Yachts and race cars aren’t cheap. Maybe she’s the real money and he can’t risk her leaving him.”

Agnes ran a hand through her hair, ignoring Carnet’s reaction to the result. “Marie-Chantal Vallotton is unhappy. How can anyone be unhappy when they look like her? She is beautiful, married to a handsome man, living in this incredible place, and she’s unhappy. She wants to work, of all things.”

“Do you need to work?”

“I don’t see how that matters.”

“When George died, did your family want you to return to work?”

“Of course not, they wanted me to stay home with the boys. They still want me to stay home.”

“And you didn’t. You love those boys and I know you miss them, so why did you return?”

Agnes rubbed her face and frowned. “I like my work.”

“Why? It’s not that pleasant. In financial crimes you often worked in drafty storage rooms with files, the office was always noisy and now, here, it’s cold and we don’t know if we’ll be successful. All very unsatisfactory. Why do it? Why not go home once and for all?”

Agnes frowned. “My mother-in-law and I don’t cohabit so well. And, it’s not much of a comparison. Look at Marie-Chantal and then look at me. Not exactly a parallel.”

Carnet smiled.

“If we were a parallel George would still be alive.”

“You can’t say that.”

“It’s true. Something with me, something with us, made him take his life. It wasn’t the boys or work. If I were Marie-Chantal Vallotton he wouldn’t have ended his life. Trust a woman’s judgment on this.”

“You’re wrong.”

“When he died they went through all of his work, reviewed all of his accounts for years in the past. Nothing was out of order, not one thing. He was the perfect employee with no mysteries lurking, ready to ruin him. He was healthy. His parents and I imagined he had a terminal cancer and didn’t want to tell us or endure treatment. Can you believe we actually hoped that? Before they completed the autopsy, we actually prayed that he had a nasty terminal disease because we could understand fear of a lingering death. We speculated through the night, settling on pancreatic cancer as our choice.”

“Normal responses. Of course you look for a reason, but think how irrational most were, and the rest were disproved. He didn’t have a terminal disease, so you are left with an equally irrational one that can’t be disproved now that he is dead.”

“No, it was not normal. Sybille knows it, George’s father knows it, and I know it. He didn’t love me anymore and took … took that horrible way out. I will always wonder if it was because I don’t quite fit in.”