Harper Lin - Patisserie 07 - Madeleine Murder (3 page)

Clémence had been within earshot, chatting with a regular customer. She turned around to face the American. 

“I’m Clémence. Can I help you?” 

“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you at such a busy time, but I heard I could find you here, and I’d like to speak to you in private about an important matter.” 

Clémence sized up the young woman. She had a plain-Jane quality about her. Her brown hair in a ponytail, and her face completely devoid of makeup. She had a smattering of freckles on her face, and she couldn’t have been over twenty-five. Her French was a bit awkward, high school level, but it was competent enough. 

“Is it urgent?” Clémence asked.

The young woman nodded. She stepped to the side, away from the lineup and closer to Clémence so the others couldn’t hear. 

“It’s regarding Nicole Blake’s death. I was her assistant.” 

Clémence slowly nodded. “I see.” 

She looked around. Carolyn was coming out of her office and walking toward them. Clémence asked her to fill in for her. 

“Why don’t you come with me to the back?” Clémence told the American.

The young woman followed Clémence past the tables of the salon into the back section. They turned to the right and reached Carolyn’s empty office. When they were both inside, Clémence closed the door behind them. 

“Please sit.” Clémence gestured to a chair as she sat behind Carolyn’s desk.

“
Je m’appelle Rachel
.” Her voice sounded shakier now that they were alone in a quiet room.

“We can speak English if you prefer,” Clémence offered. 

“Oh, that would be great.” Rachel sighed in relief. “My French is usually okay, but it would be easier to speak in English for this matter. I’m a bit nervous.” 

“You must be shaken after Nicole’s death.” 

Rachel nodded solemnly. “It was definitely a shock.”

“Were you her personal assistant?” 

“No, not exactly. I was interning for Harper Studios, which is making
The Art of Amour
. Are you familiar with the film? They’ve been shooting here in Paris for the past few weeks. You know, the one Nicole Blake was starring in?” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” 

“Well, the studio assigned me to be Nicole’s assistant on this film because her own assistants kept quitting on her. Nicole didn’t want another assistant at first, but the producers insisted. I guess they wanted me to keep an eye on her here. In a way, I was a glorified babysitter, but I’d come to like Nicole. She was prickly at first, but through this experience on set in Paris, we’d become friends, almost. I feel guilty that she died on my watch.” 

“Why are you here to see me?” Clémence asked.

“Sophie Seydoux recommended that I speak to you. She says you’re good at digging out the truth.” 

“Really?” Clémence raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is the problem?” 

“I think Nicole Blake might’ve been murdered.”

Clémence caught her breath. “How do you know?
What
do you know?”

Rachel took out an agenda from her black purse. “This is Nicole’s agenda. She’s so secretive that she wrote a lot of it in a secret code.”

Clémence took the red leather agenda from Rachel’s frail fingers. She unhooked the metallic clasp. “I didn’t know people still used these.”

“Well, Nicole had been paranoid about technology ever since somebody hacked into her phone.” 

“Right,” Clémence said. “I remember her topless photo scandal, but those kinds of things are not a huge deal in France.” 

“Nicole had a good PR company, and it did blow over, but she’d been paranoid ever since. She avoids texting anything personal, and the same goes for emails. In a way her extreme privacy backfired, because her death is a secret as well. The police are having a hard time figuring out what happened to her. They might rule it as an accident.” 

“Why are you coming to me with this agenda?” Clémence asked. “It could be a vital clue. Why don’t you go to the police?” 

“I thought about it.” Rachel twisted the hem of her cotton button-down shirt. “I lived in Paris for a semester for exchange when I was in my third year of university. Once, my purse was stolen when I was in a bar, and the police basically laughed at me when I reported it and asked whether they’d be able to help me get my stuff back. I’ve heard other stories about the police from my French friends as well. And with the clumsy investigation I’ve witnessed so far, I just don’t have any faith in them.” 

Clémence nodded. “I really don’t blame you.” She thought about the clueless Inspector Cyril St. Clair. He couldn’t think his way out of a paper bag.  

“Sophie told me about what you did when she was kidnapped,” Rachel said. “She says you’re clever, and you’d do a much better job than the professionals. What do you think? Can you help?” 

“I want to.” Clémence turned the pages, frowning at the indecipherable letters. “But this is in code, and I’ve never decoded anything before. What do you think is in here that would prove that Nicole was murdered?” 

“Where she was and who she was with last Saturday, for example, the night before her body was found.” Rachel helped her flip to the page. “Here. It says ‘Meeting with OVUJOV.’”

“Ovujov? What could that be?” Clémence remarked. “Why does she only write certain things in code and not others?” 

“She does it for important meetings that she doesn’t want anyone to know about. See her appointments for hair salons and manicures?” 

“It’s in plain English.” Clémence nodded. “It’s impressive. She was that private, huh?” 

“She hates computers and technology now. The phone-hacking incident had been really humiliating for her. Not so much that her nudes were leaked and tainted her image. She doesn’t like things to be beyond her control. And for some anonymous hacker to gain access to all her information was a lot to bear. She often said she wanted to live in the sixties, when everybody used typewriters. She hates the internet, and would avoid it like the plague, although I’ve caught her Googling herself more than once.” 

“The internet is a vicious black hole.” Clémence could sympathize. There were plenty of horrible articles and blog posts written about her online. “When was the last time you saw Nicole?” 

“At the hotel. The cast and crew are all staying at the Athena Hotel.”

“Oh, that’s not far from here.”

“Yes. The actors, the directors, and the producers are in suites, so they’re on a different floor. The rest of us are in regular rooms. I’m lucky to get my own room, since others have to share. It was Nicole’s doing. She insisted I get my own room and have it be close to hers, but they couldn’t manage that, since they didn’t want to spring for a luxury suite for an assistant.” Rachel shrugged. “The night before she was found dead, she was in my room before she went out, and we had been going over her lines for the next day.” 

“Is that why you got your own room? So she could come over?” 

“Yes. I was only allowed into her room to do specific things, like organize her closet. Otherwise, she came to my room. Nobody else could go into her room. She was that private.”

“What time did she leave?”

“It was about ten thirty p.m., which was late. We were in my room for hours. She was snacking a lot. She kept eating madeleines—they were from Damour, by the way. The crew bought a lot of Damour items, and she became obsessed with the madeleines. It’s funny, now that I’m here talking to you, the heiress of Damour.” 

“What kind of madeleines?” Clémence knew she was getting off topic, but she was curious.  

“The almond praliné ones,” Rachel replied. “I remembered because she brought them into my room and offered some to me. She said she always ate Damour madeleines when she was in Paris.” 

“The almond pralinés were a new flavor,” Clémence muttered. She tried to imagine Nicole Blake stuffing her face with her madeleines and smiled. 

“She did need to watch her figure, but she argued that the madeleines weren’t as fattening as the other Damour desserts, so she felt as if she could indulge. But that night she was wolfing them back like there was no tomorrow. Maybe she was nervous, because I’d never seen her eat so much so fast.” 

“It’s unfortunate that my madeleines were the last thing she probably ate before she died.” Clémence sighed. Were her products really cursed? 

“Considering that Nicole’s call time the following morning was at six a.m., wherever she was going must’ve been pretty important,” Rachel said. 

Clémence looked at Nicole’s agenda again. The coded appointment was written beside the 10:30 p.m. slot.

“She gets into this zone when she rehearses with me sometimes,” Rachel said. “After half an hour, she stopped snacking and really got into her scenes. I don’t care what anyone says about her. She was the most talented actress of our generation. We both lost track of time as she worked, and when she glanced at her watch at around ten thirty, she practically jumped out of her chair. She grabbed her clutch and said she had to go run an errand.” 

“That was all she said?”

“Yes. She just ran out. She was in a huge rush, and I didn’t have time to ask her anything else. But she left her script behind, and her agenda, which she’d carried in a separate Gucci tote bag. She had her clutch that contained her phone and keys with her, which still hasn’t been found. The police are saying that it was a mugging. Or the clutch is at the bottom of the Seine.”

Clémence sighed. “I suppose you’re right about the agenda. It’s our best bet to find out where she’d gone. But tell me, is it true that she had a drinking problem?” 

“I think she used to, when she was a teenager. Whenever the crew went out to dinner, she never drank alcohol, which gave me the impression that she was trying hard not to fall off the bandwagon. She never told me she was in AA, but it was clear she had issues with alcohol in the past. I assumed she was trying to keep on a straight path.” 

“So you don’t think she could’ve been drinking that night?” Clémence asked.

“No. I’m sure she wasn’t. Unless she drank with someone else that night.”

“What if it was an accident?” Clémence said. “What if she only went out with a friend, went crazy on the drinks, and maybe fell in the Seine on her way home. It is a possibility.”

“Nicole’s a great swimmer. When we were shooting in L.A., we were shooting at a beach house, and she’d swim in the ocean on her off days, no problem. She even knew how to surf. There’s no way that she wouldn’t have been able to handle the Seine, even if she had been drunk, which I doubt. I don’t believe the rumors that blame alcohol or drugs for landing her in the river.”

“You said Nicole was nervous that evening. Why do you think she was nervous?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t unusual to see her that way. I rarely saw her relaxed, in fact. But actually, when she was jumping to leave, I thought she seemed happy to go. Excited even.” 

“Was she dating anyone?” 

“That’s the thing. I don’t know much about her private life. She wouldn’t tell me. I did get the impression that she was, because sometimes she’d get a text and she’d have a dreamy smile on her face, or she’d laugh. Since her phone was lost, we don’t have a way of knowing who she’d been in contact with.” 

“Do you think anyone would have enough motive to kill her?” 

“Well, Nicole didn’t exactly get along with her co-stars. It wasn’t a secret. It’s true that Nicole could be a diva sometimes. That was Nicole’s fault. She’d either decide she liked you and would charm your pants off, or she’d treat you as if you weren’t fit to be the gum on the bottom of her shoe.” 

Clémence nodded. “I heard that Sarah Briar didn’t get along with her.” 

“They didn’t at all. Sarah turned thirty-four recently, and Nicole was starting to get the kinds of roles she used to get. Nicole was the director’s favorite too, and she had first pick of wardrobe. Sarah just never spoke to her unless they had to do a scene together. It could get pretty awkward on set.”

“Did anyone else hate her?” 

“Zach Brant. He was playing Nicole’s love interest in the movie, but they just couldn’t stand each other. The funny thing is, once the cameras were rolling, you could’ve sworn they were in love. But otherwise, they often made jabs at each other. Zach thought Nicole was a complete monster, and Nicole taunted him for his bad acting, among other things. The truth is, Zach isn’t the best actor. He’s okay playing the handsome male lead where he has to look pretty, but in the emotional scenes, Zach could barely keep up with Nicole, who could cry on demand. At first I thought their feud was because of some sort of romantic tension, given the amount of time Nicole would rant about him to me. I don’t know. What girl could resist Zach Brant? But after talking to Zach, I realized he genuinely didn’t like her either. Besides, he had a long-term girlfriend.”