Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) (7 page)

“Yikes!” Sam said. “Thank God Indian Cove has great schools.”

“Bill can’t do it all alone. He needs Doug. Doug’s been living here a lot longer than we have. He was here with another company first and has lots of contacts. He’s also very personable. So is Bernard. You met him at the cookout.”

“Is he a partner, too?” I asked.

“No. But they need him. In Belgium you have to have a license to sell insurance and it’s rather difficult for foreigners to get, especially ones who don’t speak the languages very well. Bernard, being Belgian and speaking the three national languages along with English and Spanish, has been a real asset for the firm. He’s also been a buffer between Bill and Doug. But to get back to your original question about why they work together. They have to. We, meaning Bill and I, have got too much tied up here what with this house and the kid’s school. To go out on his own, or change partners, would be too difficult right now. And there’s no way Bill can afford to buy out Doug’s share of the business. I think he would like to but I doubt Doug would sell anyway. Why should he? The business is doing very well.”

“Where do Malcolm and Jane Tillingsworth come in?” I asked.

“Malcolm just happens to work for one of the big Belgian insurance firms that Bill does a lot of business with. As it turns out, I believe Martine knew them. Well, actually, Paul knew them, and so Martine introduced Malcolm when the business started. The Tillingsworths live on the next street over, Avenue Prince Albert, so I see a lot of Jane at the store and stuff.”

“What about Paul,” Sam began, “what’s his part in all of this?”

“Nothing. He works for a bank. Not even the one the guys do business with. He’s just Martine’s husband.
Was
, I guess I should say, huh?”

“Did he know Martine and Doug had an affair?” I reached for another cookie Wanda had set out a few minutes before.

Wanda shrugged. “I don’t know. If he did, I never had any indication but then I wouldn’t, would I? I only see him once in a while at these get-togethers we have.”

“Wanda, forgive me for asking,” I said, “but why do you have these get-togethers? I mean, Bill doesn’t like Doug, you know Doug and Martine had an affair, you said you’re not crazy about the Mulberrys, so why bother?”

Wanda sat back and put her hands behind her head. “I haven’t a clue. It started off being fun, getting to know new people and all, and now, oh, I guess I still enjoy getting together. I like people. I just think maybe we should re-think our choice of invitees for the next time.”

Chapter 12

“We should probably stop off at the apartment to see if our husbands are back,” Sam said a few minutes later as we drove off from the Westlake house. “It’s nice we both have husbands. I’m so happy you and John are married. In all the excitement of the last few days, I kind of forgot there was a wedding a week ago.”

“My God! You’re right. I’ve been married over a week now. Am I supposed to get some kind of an anniversary gift?” I asked with hope in my eyes.

“Only if John is very sensitive. Actually, if I remember correctly, Michael gave me little gifts every month for a year. Now I’m lucky if he remembers my birthday.”

I looked at my sister’s neck. “Didn’t he give you an aqua marine pendant for your last birthday?”

Sam fingered the rather large stone. “Yeah, he did, didn’t he?”

I pulled the Escort in front of the house, glad there was a huge parking space, my parallel parking skills being a bit rusty. “Sam, look over there, at the man walking down the street. Isn’t that Paul Cassé?”

“It sure looks like him. What on earth would he be doing around here?”

“I think Wanda said something on Saturday that he and Martine live by the university and we passed it the other night when we took the tram to the restaurant. It’s only a couple of stops down.”

I locked the car door and went over to the sidewalk. “Paul! Paul!”

The man turned. It was indeed Paul and after exchanging greetings, we invited him in.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” Paul said. “I really must get back.”He looked over his shoulder like he expected someone to be there.

“You look like you need something to drink. And maybe someone to talk to.” I knew Europeans weren’t as open as we Americans but the guy looked terrible.

Paul hesitated a moment longer, looking down the street in thought and then turned and gave me a wary smile. “You’re right. I could use someone to talk to.”

We climbed into the tiny elevator and rode up in silence. A brief thought crossed my mind—could we be in this little space with a murderer? I could see tomorrow’s headlines in the local newspaper,
Le Soir
.
Stupid
Tourists Invite Killer into Their Home and End up Dead. Bodies Being Shipped Home Tomorrow
. Geessh. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.

The elevator door slid opened and we stepped out into the hallway. I unlocked the door and walked in.

“Paul, can we offer you anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Nothing, Alex. All I did yesterday was consume coffee. Martine’s family arrived as soon as I got home on Saturday night, or I guess I should say Sunday morning, and they stayed all day yesterday. They’re still at our apartment, which is why I went for a walk. I needed to get away for some air. I cannot breath with them hovering. They’ve always been completely informed of our problems, thanks to Martine, and I’m sure they think I killed her. Which I
didn’t
!”

“Well, we believe you, right Sam?” I nudged my sister in her side and Sam perked up.

“Oh! Right. I mean if people went around killing their spouses over every little thi…. Sorry. I got carried away.”

“It’s all right. I know what you meant. And it’s true. Martine and I had our problems to be sure, but I don’t understand how anyone could possibly think I killed my wife because she wanted children and I didn’t. It’s ridiculous.”

“Of course it is.” I wondered if Paul knew Martine and Doug had had an affair, and maybe even Martine and Bill. Now
that
might be something the man would kill over.

“I just wish,” Paul continued, “she hadn’t been so open about our problems with her parents.”

I wondered again if Martine had been forthright enough to tell her parents about her own affair and the fact it might have been partially responsible for the problems she and Paul were having. More than likely she just blamed Paul’s unwillingness to have children for their problems and let her family put the blame on him. I suddenly felt sorry for the man standing in front of me, but quickly remembered despite my beliefs, he very well could be a killer. One who was currently in my apartment.

I gestured for Paul to go into the living room. “You know, Paul, my husband and I just got married ourselves, and even though we’ve discussed children, we’ve by no means come to any sort of decision. Right now we’re content with things the way they are, but that may change. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Perhaps you just weren’t ready right now and, given some time, you may have changed your mind,” I offered, hoping this might give the man some peace.

“That may very well have happened but I’m afraid it was too late. And now I’ll never know.”

“Too late?” Sam asked.

Paul hesitated. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you, either of you.” He looked from Sam to me. “I shouldn’t be here and I shouldn’t be discussing my personal problems.”

I thought for a moment. Paul was half American and he had certainly piqued my interest with his comment about it being too late. Maybe with some quick maneuvering I could get him to talk more. Okay, so I felt pretty guilty about this. I mean, I was raised Catholic after all, which means I live with the guilt cloud over my head for my entire life, but I’m also nosy. Besides, the guys were off doing God knows what and Sam and I had to occupy our time somehow.

“Paul, yes, we have just met, and you certainly owe us no explanations, but sometimes it helps to talk—especially to people you don’t know very well, because, well, because we can be more objective.”

“True.” Paul sank into the coffee-colored leather sofa. “I haven’t discussed our problems with too many people. I really just wanted to talk things over with Martine, but she was so obstinate!” Paul’s voice rose with the last word. He sighed heavily and continued. “You see, I had a vasectomy several years ago, before we got married, before we even thought about it, and was part of the problem. Once Martine decided she just had to have children, she insisted I go to the doctor to see if the procedure could be reversed. I had no desire to have it reversed and I told her so, but she was adamant. So I did and he said there was no possibility. She seemed almost obsessed about this baby thing in the last few weeks.”

I tried to think back to the tape we had all listened to on Saturday night and I didn’t remember Paul telling Inspector Willix about having had a vasectomy. Maybe I just didn’t hear it.

“Did you mentioned this to the police?”

“About the vasectomy? No. I told them about not wanting children but I didn’t mention the operation. I didn’t think it relevant. Do you think it is?” He sounded like a little boy.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d imagine as long as they know about the fact the children issue was a major factor in your relationship that should be enough. You haven’t tried to hide the fact all was not right between you. I could mention it to John, if you’d like and he could pass the information on to Inspector Willix.”

“Okay. I don’t see why not. I have nothing to hide.” Paul got up from the leather sofa and walked over to a rather large bay window looking out over the Avenue Franklin Roosevelt.

This apartment really had a spectacular view. I could get used to living here very quickly, but then I would miss my family too much and I couldn’t fathom not being close to my grandmother.

We watched Paul for a few moments and then Sam and I exchanged glances. I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.

“
Do
you have something to hide, Paul?” I walked over to his side.

“Nothing that could be of any importance to this investigation, I’m certain.”

“Paul?”

Paul looked at me and for the first time since I had met him, he smiled. “I think you’ve missed your calling. Perhaps you could get your husband to give you a job with the police. There is indeed something, but I do not see how it could have any bearing on on her murder. A while back, while Martine and I were living together, we broke up for about eight months and I moved out. It was during this time I had an affair. It got pretty serious but she was married. After a while she decided to leave her husband and she was just about to ask him for a divorce when I decided to get back with Martine.”

“Okay, so you had an affair. You weren’t married and you weren’t with Martine at the time.” Sam came to stand next to the two of us at the window. “So, how would any of this have any relevance?”

“The person I had the affair with was Jane. Jane Tillingsworth.”

Sam and I stood there with our mouths open while I wondered if Jane had the ridiculous haircut and the scathing personality back then.

“Well, unless you were still seeing Jane,” I said, “I don’t see why this would be considered a motive for murder on your part.”

Paul pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “Maybe not on my part, but on Jane’s. She’s never liked Martine, has been downright hostile toward her, in fact. Jane and Malcolm aren’t happy together at all. Jane’s never forgiven me for going back to Martine. I shouldn’t be saying this, implicating Jane, but there was such hostility in her every time she saw Martine. The truth of the matter is, I did love my wife, not Jane, but Jane could never accept my decision to return to Martine.”

I nodded. “Well, that explains something. I saw the two of them talking on Saturday and it didn’t look like a pleasant exchange.”

“I’m sure it was not. Jane made it her life’s mission to antagonize Martine at every chance. Fortunately, we did not run into her often, but the ex-pat community is a very small world and it was inevitable. Martine knew, of course, about Jane and me, but had forgiven me.”

Very big of her, I thought, considering Martine’s own indiscretions. I remembered something else I had heard on the tape about how Tom Mulberry had been counseling Martine. I wondered if Paul knew.

“Paul, had you and Martine ever considered marriage counseling? It may have helped resolve your differences about children.”

“I didn’t. I never put much stock in that kind of thing and I don’t think Martine would have either. Her sister and her husband had problems. They went to a marriage encounter group and it didn’t work. They ended up divorcing. Martine thought people should solve their own problems. Other than her family, I don’t think she discussed any of this with any one else.” There was silence in the room for a few minutes and then Paul added, “I did love my wife, very much. Whatever problems we had could have been worked out, sooner or later. And now I’ll never have the chance.” Paul’s eyes were moist.

He left shortly thereafter telling us he had better get back before his in-laws reported him missing and told the police he was trying to avoid prosecution for a crime they were sure he had committed.

Chapter 13

“So what do you think?” Sam asked the minute we heard the elevator start its decent.

“I believe him. Of course we don’t know if he knew about Martine’s affairs.”

“If he did, then he just might have had a reason to kill her,” Sam said.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, “this ex-pat community is a regular little
Scandal
. You know, the TV show with Kerry Washington,” I said to my sister’s blank look.

Just then the whir of the elevator sounded again and I looked at Sam wondering if Paul had returned. Maybe he regretted talking to us and decided to come back and kill us off. Sam must have had the same thought because she became frantic, and swirled around the room until her eyes rested on a mop leaning against the wall by the small washing machine. She picked it up and came to stand next to me. We stood there not saying anything, just listening to the elevator as it made its very slow climb up to our floor. It stopped and a few seconds later someone fiddled with the front door. Sam and I inched slowly across the kitchen, through the doorway and peeked around the corner into the foyer. The front door swung opened and Michael walked in. Sam dropped the mop and threw her arms around her husband.