“I see.” Marceau jotted it down and then asked, “Do you know someone by the name Didier?”

“Yes, I know of him, but I have never met him. Leith mentioned him from time to time. I believe they—” She caught herself. Was Didier a suspicious person? Would knowing him make her one? A lump formed in her throat and in her chest.

“Madame?” Marceau prodded. “You were saying?”

Remi willed herself to continue. “I believe they were together last night. That’s what Leith told me before he left, but I have no idea where they might have been.”

Marceau skimmed his notes and then put the pad away. With a serious look, he held her attention a moment longer.

“I only have one final question, which I will strike from my records.” He hesitated. “Were you involved in a relationship with the deceased?”

Remi nearly toppled over, unable to contain her blushing. She covered her cheeks quickly, but the inspector was sharp. He would have surmised as much based on her reaction, and she did not offer any sort of explanation.

“I only ask because—” He cleared his throat. “I do not believe in coincidences. Too much of my life has been spent in the underbelly of society, surrounded by evil men. Please look after yourself.”

The lump in her throat bobbed when she swallowed. “I will.”

“Thank you for your time.” He bowed. “I’ll be on my way.”

Ben opened the door for him, smiling softly at her from the doorway. Elise was gone, having abandoned her post at the door; perhaps her father or Hugo had called her away. It hardly mattered, though. All Remi wanted was for Ben to stay with her, but the chance to ask him came and went. He escorted the inspector out in her place, allowing her time to mourn alone.

Remi turned in her seat and watched out the window. There were too many carriages in the drive for her taste. The inspector and a few gens d’armes boarded their carriage with a farewell to Ben. He waved them off as they went, unmoving until the carriage was down the hill. When he was free, he searched the windows for Remi and offered her another smile.

She waved as he ducked inside.

Remi closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them again, she was startled to find another figure watching her from the garden.

Remi choked on a sob at the sight of two milky white eyes staring up at her, unblinking from a pale, blue-lipped face. Leith.

BEN’S DISCOVERY

BEN

Remi was standing in the center of the room when Ben and Jacques returned.

“Are you alright?” Ben rushed to her side.

She looked into his face, clearly frightened. “I’m fine. Overwhelmed is all.”

Ben waved Jacques out of the room and led her to one of the chairs by the fireplace. It was still dimly lit, orange embers fighting amongst the ash. He stirred some life into it, sitting across from her once there was a flame. Ben pulled the other chair closer to her and reached for her hands.

“Did the inspector say something to rile you?” Ben asked.

“He did.” She paused. “And he didn’t. This is the second time I’ve spoken with him, though. I’m sure that doesn’t bode well.”

Ben encased her fingers. He could feel how cold she was under the heat of his own touch.

“When was the first time you spoke with him?”

Remi croaked a reply. “The morning we found Edgar.”

“Will you tell me what happened?” He needed to know what he’d missed.

“He went with me to the study to identify the body…”

Ben was patient as she recounted that day, confident in her memory.

“My uncle was furious, but it was my responsibility as Edgar’s wife. Afterward, we spoke, and he asked a few questions. Then he left.”

Ben’s grip tightened involuntarily, his body tensing at the mention of her uncle. “Why was your uncle furious?”

“He offered to identify Edgar in my place,” she said. Confusion marred her face when he pulled away and started digging in his pockets. “What’s going on?”

“Take a look at this.” He held out the receipt to Remi.

She read through it once, then a second time. Her eyes flicked up, and then down, then back again. He smiled when he noticed her lips moving as she read.

“My uncle was doing business with Edgar?” she asked, reading over the details again.

“Marchand was also in on it.” Ben nodded.

Remi’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I am mistaken...but this is fake, Ben. There is no such person by the seller’s name.”

“What?” Ben leaned over and peered at the paper over Remi’s shoulder. “How did I miss that?”

“Miss what?” Jacques asked as he pushed open the door carrying a full tray.

“The name on the receipt you found,” Remi’s voice was like a bell again, her earlier fear extinguished. “It’s the name of a fictional character.”

Jacques set the tray down on the bedside table and joined Ben. Both men looked over the receipt again, mirroring the other’s surprise.

“Monsieur Arsene Lupin.” Ben nearly laughed outright. “The owner of one ‘Gentleman’s Adventure Club.’”

Jacques sounded as shocked as Ben felt. “How did you know that, Madame?”

Ben looked up, curious to know her answer as well. She looked between the both of them and shrugged, a cup of tea already in hand. “Edgar lent me a book. He said it was his favorite collection of stories.”

“So, if I am to understand this correctly, my father used the name of a fictional seller to con your uncle and your cousin’s fiancé out of money?”

“It appears so,” Remi said, sipping her tea.

“I almost can’t believe it.” Ben shared a look with Jacques, who was rendered speechless.

“Look at the date.” Remi returned to her chair opposite Ben. “It was marked a couple of weeks before the wedding.”

“Is there some significance to that?” Ben asked.

“There might be,” she said, staring into the cup balanced on her lap. “I learned something interesting today. My uncle was in Paris last September; my engagement was announced after he returned home.”