Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(78)

“I’m engaged,” Marie-José said.

Agnes waited patiently.

“He’s nice enough, and will inherit his father’s butcher shop, which is a nice living. We’re planning to stay with my parents for a bit, then move somewhere nearer Lausanne for a few years. I’d like to be nearer the city; more things to do.”

“Was your fiancé here the afternoon Mademoiselle Cowell died?”

“No, he doesn’t come down here.” Marie-José looked horrified. “Madame Puguet is strict about visitors, says if we want visitors we should work in a tearoom. It’s not Alfred at all, it’s me.”

Agnes didn’t move, afraid to startle the girl. A confession? She desperately hoped for one, at the same time she desperately wanted it to not be this plain young girl.

“I shouldn’t have thought it, what with Alfred loving me like he does, but he was so handsome and has this spirit about him and Alfred is so predictable.” Marie-José pressed her palms to her eyes and stood that way for a minute, then she seemed to work through her agony. “With Mimi missing and everything so serious I need to tell you what I didn’t before. I wanted him to notice me and he did, he asked my name and told me I looked nice and followed me down to the kitchen one day.”

“Who?”

“Nick Graves. Him following me that time made me feel good. Special. When he left the room the other afternoon I made up a question to ask him.”

“And saw him with Mademoiselle Cowell?” Agnes hardly dared breathe. This could be it. The evidence they needed.

“No, he’d left, like I told you. But I also left. I went to his room and he wasn’t there. I took his cuff links, the ones he only wears at dinner, with his family crest, and when he came through the blue room next to the library I pretended I’d found them when cleaning. I asked if they were his. He knew I’d invented the story. I could see it in his eyes and I was ashamed and said I’d put them in his bedroom right away and did he want to come with me. I sort of meant to be sure I returned them, but he knew it was an invitation.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Like something out of a bad movie.”

“Did you go to his room together?”

“No, he laughed at me. I threw the cuff links down on the carpet and ran out the other way. The blue room is connected to the east wing with a narrow corridor that we use when we do the cleaning, and I ran that way, thinking to have a few minutes alone, but I heard Madame Puguet and knew that if she saw me there I’d catch it. She knows our schedule, and I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the east wing that time of day. I couldn’t explain to her; I would have been so ashamed and she might have dismissed me. I went down the hall, and thought to go through the fur vault and down the other stairs. Not likely anyone would see me there. I grabbed the doorknob but it didn’t turn and I thought it was stuck. I yanked it and realized it was locked. Then I heard a noise. Like something dropped or shattered.”

“Like a hand mirror?”

“Could have been. That’s when I panicked. Whoever was in the room had heard me tugging on a locked door where I shouldn’t be, so I ran for the stairs and back to my work. I came to your room the other night to tell you, but you didn’t come to the door, and the marquise came up the stairs. I had to leave.”

Agnes wanted to tell the girl that she was the reason for a bad night’s sleep, but she tempered her voice. “This all occurred the day Mademoiselle Cowell was murdered?”

“Yes, Madame, I mean Inspector. When you questioned Monsieur Graves I should have said that I left him by the library in the blue room and that he couldn’t have gotten to the fur vault before me. I suppose I wanted him to be in a bit of trouble for how he treated me. I don’t know if there was more than one person in the room or if it was even Mademoiselle Cowell, but it wasn’t me, or Monsieur Graves.” She paused and added grudgingly, “Or Madame Puguet.”

She started and Agnes turned to see Vallotton approach.

“I’ll go now,” Marie-José said.

“Thank you,” Agnes said, “and I will want Officer Petit to speak with you. He’ll get a signed statement.”

Marie-José nodded to Julien Vallotton and fled down the hall. Agnes hoped Vallotton brought good news. It didn’t look like it from his expression.

“They are checking the outbuildings again,” he said.

“I don’t believe Mimi could have left the chateau,” Agnes said.

“That’s what Carnet said. That there aren’t any footprints he and Petit can’t explain. None made by a small girl. Mimi would have had to literally walk in someone’s footprints without leaving an impression and either go up the hill—which is impossible without the right footgear, and even then it is rough going—or to Arsov’s.”

“Did someone check there again?” Agnes asked.

“Yes, when they checked the outbuildings the first time. And at Arsov’s there aren’t hidden rooms and abandoned dungeons. They would have found her. Besides, they keep the doors locked. She couldn’t have entered without being noticed.” Vallotton moved to stare out the window onto the lake. “Maybe there are Russian kidnappers.”

“Unlikely, although I think you should let Mulholland sweat it out for a few more hours.”