The Housewife Assassin's Ghost Protocol Read Free Page B

masked ball! But of course tomorrow morning we will inquire as to any such rendezvous.”
    “Mr. al-Sadah does not like to be bothered before noon,” Duclos’s partner reminds him. “In fact, the captain mentioned that the Divide and Conquer leaves port early in the morning.”
    His honesty earns him a scowl from Duclos.
    “Seriously, you’re just going to let him float away?” I taunt him. “You have a dead woman on your hands—for that matter, maybe more than one. Nicolette’s friends accompanied her and al-Sadah. Have you questioned them? What will you do if two more bodies end up on the beach?”
    “If you’re implying that Mr. al-Sadah had anything to do with this tragedy, I assure you, Madame, nothing could be further from the truth.”
    Jack steps so close to Duclos that they are face to face. “You don’t know if you don’t ask.”
    Shame rises in a red blush on Duclos’s face. Still, he says nothing.
    “If you’ll excuse us, now, it’s the cocktail hour.” Jack nods toward the suite’s fully stocked bar. He takes out a twenty-euro note and sticks it in top left pocket of Duclos’s jacket. “Thanks for returning our cabana boy. If we can think of anything else you may want to ignore, we’ll be sure to give you a call.”
    I link one arm into Jean-Pierre’s in order to draw him inside the room. The other arm firmly closes the door behind us.
    “They thought I killed Nicolette. Don’t they realize…” Jean-Pierre stares at the door as if he expects the long arm of the law to punch its way back in and pull him out.  
    “That you love her? A crime of passion always provides a possible suspect, Jean-Pierre. But you didn’t kill her.” Jack’s tone insists that Jean-Pierre confirm this.
    “ Mais non, Monsieur! You must believe me!”
    I pat his arm. “We do, Jean-Pierre. And since we are now your official alibi, you must tell us the truth about your whereabouts since we left you this afternoon, up until you were found with Nicolette on the beach.”
    He thinks for a moment. “The concierge told me there had been a request I retrieve the suitcase for another guest from his room and take it to the luggage room. The man was checking out soon. When I took the bag from him, I mentioned I was also the hotel’s masseur. He asked that I accommodate him after dropping off the bag. Of course, I did.”
    “Then this guest could contradict us as to your whereabouts,” I point out.
    “No! He has...what I mean to say is…” He runs his fingers through his thick curly blond hair. “He will be…discreet. He has too much to lose.”
    “I see.”  
    Jean-Pierre shakes his head. “It is not what you think at all! You see, he too does not want others to know he is here. He is spying on his wife, who is here with her lover.” He shrugs. “Then again, he was here with his lover.”
    “How very French,” I murmur.
    “Not at all,” Jean-Pierre replies. “From his accent, he could be Austrian.”  
    The joke is on me, I guess. “What is the man’s name?”
    “Smith. John Smith.”
    “An old Austrian moniker if I ever heard one.” Jack shakes his head. “How did you end up on the beach beside the body?”
    “After Monsieur Smith’s massage, his lover requested one as well. In the meantime, he went for a walk on the beach. When he returned he realized he’d taken off his sunglasses while watching the sunset. Because they were running late to catch their flight, he asked me to retrieve them. I found them a few meters from where Nicolette lay.” He takes the glasses out of his pocket and holds them up. “I would have mentioned them to the police, but while I was being questioned, I noticed their limousine drive off.” He hesitates then adds, “It was an imposition to use your names, but I had no choice! You can see this , oui ?”
    “ Oui,” I mutter. “How convenient that his glasses were practically in the exact spot as Nicolette’s body.”  
    Jean-Pierre’s eyes open wide.