Harper Lin - Patisserie 06 - Crème Brûlée Murder (2 page)

“We all know how well your suspicions have served you in the past,” Clémence said sarcastically.

Arthur squeezed Clémence’s shoulder. “Let’s all calm down. We don’t know what happened. We don’t even know if Cesar was murdered.”

Cyril waved him away. “How did Maya find the body?”
 

“She was going to the restroom,” Clémence said, “and she had a little too much to drink, so she went into the men’s room by mistake and found the body slumped around the toilet.”

“Uh huh.” Cyril scribbled this down in his little notepad. “How well do you know her?”
 

“This is the first time I’ve met her,” Clémence said. “Like I said, she’s Sebastien’s girlfriend.”
 

“So you don’t know her well, then,” Cyril said.
 

“No.” Clémence was losing patience. “But I seriously doubt she had anything to do with this. She was screaming when she found him.”
 

“Likely story,” Cyril muttered. “Let’s go see the body.”
 

Clémence led him to
les toilettes.
The door was already opened, and Cesar’s body was still in there, unmoved.
 

“
Excusez-moi, les gars
,” Cyril said to the members of his team. Some of them were collecting evidence, and a forensic photographer was snapping photos. He spoke to a member of his team, a man in his forties with round glasses that made him look like an owl. “What did you find out so far?”

“We don’t know. No indication of foul play. We have to do an autopsy.”
 

“Cause of death unknown,” Cyril muttered. “What was he doing before he went into the restroom?” He turned to Clémence. “You have cameras here, right?”
 

“Yes,” Clémence replied. “Hidden in the two chandeliers, if you recall.”
 

“After I interrogate some of these witnesses, I want to see those tapes.”
 

“I’ll call my guy,” said Clémence.

She had Ralph Lemoine on speed dial. Ralph worked at the surveillance company Damour used. Watching the store tapes had helped them with cases in the past. It was past midnight, but it was a Saturday, so there was a chance that Ralph was up.

On the third ring, Ralph picked up. “Clémence Damour?” he answered in a groggy but flirtatious voice.
 

“
Bonsoir
, Ralph. Sorry to wake you.” Clémence explained that had been yet another murder. “Is it okay if we come look at the surveillance footage now?”
 

“Wait, you’re saying somebody died at your birthday party?” He sounded more awake this time.

“Yes,” she replied. “We don’t know if he’d been murdered, but we’d like to see what happened to him leading up to his death, if possible, on surveillance.”
 

“I’m up now, and I live close to work, so you can come by. I’ll meet you there. What exactly happened?”
 

“I’ll fill you in when we get there. Unfortunately, that annoying inspector is going to come. Hope you don’t mind.”
 

“I don’t mind him.”
 

“That makes one of us.”

Ralph chuckled. “I’ll start getting the footage ready for you, then.”
 

“
Merci. À tout de suite
.”

Clémence hung up and saw Cyril St. Clair interrogating Henri Laberg.

“My brother doesn’t have any health issues that I know of,” Henri was saying. “He had seasonal allergies, but nothing that would kill him.”
 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Cyril asked.

“Well, he was a little allergic to cats.”

“Excuse me,” Clémence cut in. “Sorry to interrupt, Henri. Cyril?” She pulled him aside. “I’m heading over to the surveillance place with Arthur first. Then you can join me once you’ve finished.”
 

“Seriously, Damour? You get a head start on questioning the witnesses and now you get to go through the videos first?”
 

“It’s not a competition,” Clémence exclaimed. “Although, for the last case, I still haven’t received my letter as part of my win.”
 

Clémence and Cyril had made a deal that if Clémence solved the last murder case, Cyril would write her a letter of defeat for her to frame, expressing how she was superior to him in every way. So far, he’d yet to write it.
 

“It’s lost in the mail,” said Cyril.

“A deal’s a deal.” Clémence crossed her arms.

Cyril sighed. “Fine. Yes, okay. I haven’t had the time. I’ve been busy. So busy that I can’t even get any decent sleep on the weekends. Some Saturday this is turning out to be.”
 

“Yes. It’s not as if I want to be investigating another murder during my birthday celebration either, Cyril.”
 

And yet, she was.
 

Chapter 3

Clémence thought it would be faster to take the Métro to the 15th arrondissement. Taxis were scarce on Saturday night. It was only a few stops away, and the Métro was open until around one thirty a.m. on weekends.
 

Even though it was August, it still got chilly at night, so Clémence and Arthur put on their jackets and left. Unfortunately, the guests had to stay until later, but Clémence couldn’t worry about them now. Berenice and Sebastien, as well as the Damour store manager, Caroline, agreed to help keep things under control.
 

However, the Métro stalled near the Bir-Hakeim station. They were taking Line 6, which was above ground, and the train was sitting on a bridge over the Seine. On one side, they could see the Eiffel Tower, all lit up. Clémence could tell who the tourists were by whoever was impressed with the sight of the tower. Even though she saw
la Tour
practically every day, she was still taken with the view, but she couldn’t enjoy it that night. She had too much on her mind, and she was too impatient to get moving.

“Why can’t this Métro move already?” she muttered to Arthur.
 

“What a crazy night,” Arthur said. “I can’t believe Cesar is dead. I just talked to him ten minutes before he went to the restroom.”
 

“
C’est très bizarre
,” Clémence agreed. “And you know what? If it did turn out to be a murder, guess who’s responsible? One of the guests at my party!”
 

Arthur frowned. “Not necessarily. How many guests were there? Forty? Forty-five?”
 

“Forty-four. Plus the catering crew.”
 

“But you only know a quarter of the guests really well. The others are employees from other Damour locations that you barely interact with, and guests of guests.”
 

“That’s true, but it still doesn’t make me feel any less responsible.” Clémence sighed and tucked a strand of her dark bob from her face. “I wonder what happened? Who would want Cesar dead? A guy our age with no health problems to speak of doesn’t just fall dead.”

“Maybe he had a drug problem,” Arthur said. “Didn’t he look a little haggard to you?”
 

“I guess, but all the Laberg brothers have dark under-eye circles. It’s probably genetic. Could it have been alcohol poisoning?”
 

“It’s a possibility, I suppose,” Arthur said. “But when I talked to him, he didn’t seem that drunk, not more so than I was.”

“What if it was suicide?” Clémence asked.

“Why would Cesar want to kill himself? He’s young. He’s successful. He’s got everything.”
 

“What makes a person happy is different for everyone. We don’t know much about this guy. I have to find out more. The police have taken over, but I don’t think tonight’s the right time to investigate, since everyone’s in shock and quite emotional at the moment.”
 

“Here we go again,” Arthur said.

The train jerked to life, and Clémence practically fell out of her chair. She was still a little drunk.
 

“I still can’t believe there’s another murder so soon after the last one,” Clémence said. “And on my birthday? We were supposed to get completely wasted and spend all of our Sunday eating hangover food.”

“We can still eat hangover food,” Arthur said. “In fact, I’m craving a hamburger right now.”
 

“I wish there was more street food in Paris like there is in the States. Where’s a hot dog cart when you need it?”
 

They got off at Métro La Motte-Picquet to change to Line 10 to Métro Avenue Emile Zola. When they got to the surveillance place, Ralph was already there, and he opened the door as soon as Clémence rang.

Ralph was in a clean white dress shirt and dark denim. In his early thirties, he usually had scruffy facial hair, but he was clean shaven that night, making his dimples more prominent when he smiled.
 

“
Bonsoir
, Ralph,” Clémence said. “This is my boyfriend, Arthur. I don’t think you’ve met.”
 

“Hi.” Arthur stuck out his hand.
 

“No.” Ralph’s smile dropped as they shook hands. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
 

The two men took a moment to size each other up. They were dressed alike. With his jacket off, Arthur was also in a white shirt, with black dress pants. His sleeves were rolled up, and his chestnut-colored hair was nicely gelled.

“Come on in,” Ralph said. “Oh, and happy birthday, Clémence. Why didn’t you invite me?”
 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Clémence smiled apologetically. “I didn’t think you’d want to come. Next time.”
 

“Of course I’d want to come. I’d go to any party at Damour. It looked like a fun night.” Ralph sat down in front of one of the many screens. “Feel free to pull up some chairs next to me. I’ve already rewound to the start of the evening. What is it that you’re looking for?”
 

Clémence and Arthur sat on either side of Ralph. “I’ll point out the victim. His name is Cesar Laberg.”

“Laberg,” Ralph said. “I know that name. Why does it sound familiar?”

“He’s a publishing heir.”
 

“Oh.” It struck Ralph. “Of
Editions Laberg
?”

“Yes,” Arthur said dully.

“I know them,” Ralph exclaimed. “They’ve published some of my favorite books by Agnes Belrose.”
 

“Oh, you’re a fan of Agnes Belrose, too?” Clémence exclaimed.
 

“Yes,
Le Port
is still my favorite book of all time. What about you?”
 

“
Le Port
is great, but
Les Belles Filles
is the best, in my opinion. I don’t know how she does it. The characters are so sad, but I laugh on every page.”
 

Arthur cleared his throat. “Maybe we could save the book club discussions for later. There might be a potential murderer on the loose.”
 

“Oh, you’re right,” Clémence said.
 

Ralph rolled the video. The two cameras in the chandeliers showed everything from an aerial point of view. Clémence watched as the guests came in at the start of the evening. The hired waitstaff from a catering company had already set everything up. Two of them took the guests’ jackets, and three of them circulated the room holding trays of champagne flutes for the guests to take to get the evening started.
 

Clémence watched for Cesar, but he must’ve arrived fashionably late. She did recall that Henri and Madeleine had been among the first to arrive, and Cesar and Charles among the last. Clémence didn’t know Henri’s older brothers that well, but Madeleine had told her they wanted to come because they were huge fans of Damour macarons. Plus, they wanted to meet beautiful women.
 

There were certainly beautiful women there. Celine, who was close with Clémence, was a cute blonde with a rotating door of boyfriends. Adi and Melanie were Clémence’s friends from lycée, and the other Damour staff were all adorable in Clémence’s eyes.
 

Cesar certainly knew how to charm the ladies. He had a crowd of them around him a few times throughout the evening. Charles Laberg was chatting up a storm with Celine by the end of the night. Clémence knew Celine well, and she guessed Celine was probably smitten, even though Celine’s intense infatuations never lasted longer than a few weeks.
 

Clémence remembered being introduced to Cesar, as she scrutinized the video footage of them chatting after they greeted each other with
bisous
on the cheeks. He had dark, almost black hair, with hazel eyes that were almost golden. He was the tallest and the most well built of the Laberg brothers. Dressed in a fitted grey Armani suit, he exuded confidence and charm. Not only that, he was apparently a brilliant businessman. Cesar was managing the magazine department for now, but he had a lot of intelligent things to say about the French literary scene. He told Clémence that he intended to follow his father’s legacy in discovering and publishing many of France’s bright literary talents. Clémence remembered being impressed by Cesar.

Clémence had already known Henri through Madeleine. He was a nice guy, if a bit lazy. Charles was more carefree and outgoing, and he mingled with everyone just as well as Cesar throughout the evening. He was less serious than his older brother, was less shy than his younger brother, and was one of the first to join in with Ben on the dance floor.

When she’d questioned Henri and Charles after they discovered Cesar’s body, they were both in shock. Neither knew what had happened. She couldn’t broach the subject of mental illness at the time, especially with the ambulance sirens sounding in the distance.

The only thing she could do now was to see what Cesar had been up to the hour before his death. Clémence noted all the people he talked to. At one point, he looked to be in an intense discussion with Maya, before walking away. She walked back to Sebastien.
 

Did they know each other? Maya had only started dating Sebastien recently. They had been introduced by a mutual friend. Paris was a small town in many ways. It was possible that she’d known Cesar before the party.