Killer Critique Read Free

unreliable crowd testimonies are. She could easily have come out again. We’ll need to go into that very carefully.”
    Isabelle snapped through the pages of her notebook noisily. “There were exactly ninety-two people—plus the chef makes ninety-three—who were either customers or worked in the front of the house. One of them has to be the killer. So the perp’s name is already right here in my little book. This is an all-time first!”
    â€œOh, goody,” David said. “A locked-room mystery. I’ve always wanted to work on one of those.”
    Isabelle glared at him.
    â€œMake that ninety-one people,” Momo said with his ponderous logic. “The chef is the boss’s husband’s pal, and the boss is close buds with one of the customers.”
    â€œLet’s stick with ninety-three,” Capucine said. “Even if Béatrice Renaud were Alexandre’s buddy, which I don’t really think is the case, she very definitely could still be a suspect. And I was as amazed as anyone else to run into Cécile de Rougemont. It’s true she’s a very close friend, but that certainly doesn’t mean she won’t be investigated as thoroughly as anyone else.”
    Ever so slightly, the three brigadiers pursed their lips, moved their eyebrows together, and nodded fractionally in a highly attenuated version of the Gallic expression of ironic incredulity.
    â€œHow many of the people in the dining room did you three talk to?” Capucine asked.
    Isabelle consulted her notebook. “We had a quick word with all twenty-one of the waitstaff and eleven of the customers. We concentrated on the ones sitting nearest the victim’s table, like you said.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd same as always, big nothing. None of the customers saw anything, except two women who saw Fesnay fall over. One of them wanted to get up to help him, but her husband stopped her. And the waiters did what you’d expect them to do; they got that solemn priestly look, like what was going on at their tables was as secret as confession in church.”
    â€œBut you got their names and addresses and told them not to leave Paris without permission?”
    â€œOf course,” Isabelle said. “We even double-checked their identity papers to make sure no one was fibbing. So what do we do now, Commissaire ?”
    â€œStarting first thing in the morning, you’re going to haul each one of the ninety-three down here to the brigade and interview them formally. They’re going to be different animals outside of their comfort zone. Feel free to get tough. Use the usual tricks. You know, tell them that someone at the next table swears he saw them get up just before the murder. Scare them. When they get really desperate to get out of the interview room, they’ll spill whatever it is they might actually have seen.
    â€œThen start going through their backgrounds. See if you can find anyone who has even the remotest connection with the victim. Same hometown, worked in the same company, you know the drill. If the murderer really is one of the people in the room, we’re going to need to find a motive.”
    â€œAnd what do you want us to start doing in the fall?” Isabelle asked ironically.
    â€œFair enough,” Capucine said. “It is a lot of work for you three. How many backups do you need?”
    â€œAs many as I can get,” Isabelle said with a grin.
    Capucine shuffled through her duty roster file. “I think I can give you five brigadiers for a week. That should give you a start. We’ll figure it out from there. By the way, I had already planned a lunch with Madame de Rougemont tomorrow, but I still want one of you three to interview her down here just like the others. What are you so happy about, Isabelle?”
    â€œThis case is a slam dunk. I mean, shit, how many times are we absolutely certain we have the perp’s name down on a piece