Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(86)

“Why revenge on Arsov?” Daniel Vallotton slumped back into his wheelchair, rolling it backward and forward rapidly. Marie-Chantal put down her coffee cup and joined him.

“If Estanguet’s sister hadn’t died in the last year of the war Arsov would have married her. But Frédéric Estanguet was very young, little more than a toddler. He was separated from her and he blames Arsov.” Agnes took a deep breath. “She’s the skeleton we found yesterday.”

“This makes no sense,” said Marie-Chantal. “Many children were orphaned.”

“I don’t think we can understand his mental state, but I know whose bones are on your lawn, and I know that she is the woman Arsov was in love with, and that Frédéric Estanguet is her brother.”

Julien Vallotton stepped forward. “Mimi is our prime concern, the details don’t matter now.”

“Did someone check the ice house tunnel?” said Marie-Chantal.

“We looked there,” said Agnes. “And in all of the other buildings: the summer pavilion, the old stables, the Orangerie. They aren’t complicated structures. They don’t have secrets. Plus, they’re not heated. A few hours in one of them and she would freeze to death. I don’t think that’s what Estanguet wants. At least not yet or he would have made sure we found her body. He has a plan for revenge.” She looked around desperately. “She has to be here. Somewhere in the chateau.”

“We’ll call for help—” Julien interjected.

“Call who?” Agnes asked.

“Inspector Lüthi is the police,” Marie-Chantal added.

Officer Petit walked through the door, bundled for the worst outdoor weather from his boots to his cap. Carnet was close on his heels, pulling on his puffy coat.

“All ready to start,” Petit said. “Carnet has a plan and if we could get a couple of people to help—”

“Not now,” Agnes interrupted. Quickly she explained the situation to them. “When was the last time anyone saw Monsieur Estanguet?”

Carnet turned on his heel. “I’ll check the man’s bedroom to see if he’s there. If he’s not, I’ll start searching for him. I’ll get Madame Puguet to assist.”

“André,” Agnes said. “Go to Arsov’s, quickly. Wake them up. Put the butler and Nurse Brighton on alert but say nothing to the old man. There’s nothing to be gained by frightening him. Stay close. I believe Estanguet has already killed once.”

Petit sprinted away, leaving the rest of the room frozen in a tableau of concern.

“We have to do something more to find her. Can we get dogs?” said Daniel. “What did mother’s family raise, bloodhounds?”

Winston walked the length of the room. Agnes glanced at the animal, then at Julien Vallotton. Together they looked at the dog.

“He’s not a bloodhound,” Agnes said speculatively.

“I’ve taken him hunting,” Daniel said. “He’s got a good nose.”

“MC, call him,” Vallotton said.

Agnes held the stuffed animal out to Winston, wondering if the Great Dane even noticed the toy, his eyes were so focused on hers, like he was thinking. The humans stood transfixed for a moment. Everyone stilled, as if waiting for magic, then Winston turned away, his large form moving at the languid pace he usually took through the household. They let out a collective sigh. Nothing.

Mulholland crashed a coffee cup onto a table, cursing.

“I can’t believe Monsieur Estanguet would kill,” Marie-Chantal said. “Madame Puguet knows him, he’s been using the library for months. Are we positive? He seemed like such a kind old man. I can’t believe he would hurt Mimi.”

“He used his time here to plan his attack on Monsieur Arsov,” said Agnes, keeping her eyes trained on Winston. The dog was at the door, as if waiting on her. He swept his head forward and caught her eye before taking off at a rapid clip. “He’s going,” she said.

Winston pricked his ears. He lunged forward at a lope. Agnes and Julien sprinted to catch up. Marie-Chantal grabbed the handles of Daniel’s wheelchair and Mulholland brought up the rear.

Winston led them down a long corridor to the opposite wing of the chateau. They burst through the door of a large room, rarely used. Agnes stopped when she was across the threshold. Her heart was pounding and she experienced a rapid sense of disappointment. No Mimi. And Marie-Chantal was correct, maybe Estanguet hadn’t taken the girl. Maybe she had created this out of whole cloth based on a painting, a ring, and the idea that someone could change their name.

The room resembled a medieval banquet hall. In the center stood a long table surrounded by forty high-backed wood chairs. Large Flemish tapestries covered three of the walls. Two complete suits of armor guarded the opposite door. Despite this, the space felt empty.

Winston walked the perimeter, nose down. Agnes caught her breath and wondered if they were all crazy, following a dog. She held Mimi’s stuffed toy out to him. He ignored her.

“Who searched this room last night?” she asked.

“I did,” said Mulholland. He was pale. “With Monsieur Estanguet.”

They glanced around.

“There’s nowhere to hide,” Marie-Chantal said. “Under the table. I suppose around the suits of armor. There’s nowhere else.”