Trouble in the Alps, page 21
“Yes, that would have been nice, but I can imagine how hard it will be to locate her when she is no longer in touch with that agent. She leads a nomadic existence and we cannot expect to find her at such short notice.” Atalanta frowned as she stared ahead. “Perhaps it is not necessary either. Margot is determined to quit writing. We should be happy that she has realised she cannot keep up the pretence forever. Still, it is sad for her that she has to stop doing what she loved because her sister ended the cooperation. I wonder if there would be a way for her to continue if…”
Renard studied her with narrowed eyes. “Are you contemplating delivering material to her?”
Atalanta flushed as if caught red-handed. “Well, I did think that because I am travelling so much, it would not be difficult at all to send her some information about places I have been to. She doesn’t need to get it from her sister specifically.”
“But part of the charm people find in her novels is the idea that the adventurous sister travels the world and the sister who cannot go places herself uses her stories as inspiration for her beautiful books. There is a sort of romantic allure to it.”
Atalanta nodded. “I suppose you are right. Well, who knows, the sister might come to her senses and reconnect.”
“Before Margot lets her publisher know she will not write another book?” Renard looked doubtful.
Atalanta bit her lip. “You are right. Her decision that she cannot go on anymore has made it all the more urgent that we find out if their bond can be rescued or not. Could you do some more research to locate Johanna Laub? Draw on all those wonderful contacts you have everywhere? Even if she is always travelling, she must have favourite hotels like Raoul’s hotel in Rome.”
Renard sighed. “It will be difficult but I can try if you think it is important.”
“I do want to help Margot. She has lost so much during her stay here. Especially her trust in other people. Eva flirted with her husband, her secretary was stealing jewels. She must feel totally let down. If we can salvage something for her…”
“I will do my very best.” Renard was now smiling in spite of his frustration. “You can never resist doing a little good.”
Atalanta sighed. “I wish I could do something good for Raoul. His memory loss is not getting much better. He tells me that he can recall things he experienced a few days ago so there is some improvement but … he still does not remember having met me in Provence or the other occasions on which we were together. He had a brief flash of recollection in which he remembered the comte’s house in Provence and his name, but when he tried to elaborate on it, the image faded and it was all blackness again. It dejects him so.”
Renard studied her with a frown. “Perhaps you need to take him away from here, to places where you have been before. That might restore his memory.”
“I wish I could, but I am afraid Maurizio Dulce will not let me.” She looked around her to ascertain they were indeed all alone and added, “He actually gave me a subtle but very real warning that if I interfere with anything, he will remove Raoul from here and I won’t be able to see him anymore.”
Renard looked grim. “Then we must make a move before he does.”
“You actually propose to take Raoul away from his influence? But how could we? He controls this environment. His men operate the funicular. Besides, Tanner and his policemen are watching the hotel to ensure everyone stays in place. They are not at all convinced that the case is closed to their satisfaction.”
Renard nodded. “I see.” She saw by the workings of his features that he was not ready to simply accept this as a reality. He was thinking up some plan. She hoped he would come up with something brilliant to resolve the stand-off.
Just before dinner, Tobias Tanner arrived and drew Atalanta aside. “The secretary confessed to both the theft of your ivory box and the earlier theft. She put the jewels in a deposit box at a bank in Basel and we have arranged for a local policeman to pick them up. Now that we have them, we can charge her officially and it seems like I can close the case of the jewellery thefts to my satisfaction.”
“But how does Eva’s murder fit in?” Atalanta asked with tension in her stomach.
“To be honest, I don’t know.” Tanner eyed her directly. “She denies having poisoned the nettle tea but the doctor confirmed that Eva Reuter died because of a strong sedative being added to her drink. The same sedative that was used to sedate Theresa. The one that was originally meant for you.”
Atalanta shivered. Theresa had taken her glass and thereby saved her from ingesting the sedative. Could it have killed her?
“It seems obvious that the secretary used the sedatives to ensure she could steal without anyone noticing. But with Eva Reuter it went wrong. She gave her too much or Eva reacted to it in a bad way. Some people have a weaker heart than others. And it is never safe to combine sedatives with alcohol.”
Atalanta nodded. “I am aware of that. But you have Franco in custody for Eva’s murder and now the secretary. You cannot charge both of them. You have to decide who is actually responsible.”
Tanner nodded. “I have searched the secretary’s luggage and the bottle with the sedative was found among her things. With her fingerprints on it – hers alone.”
“Wealthy people have gloves.” Atalanta said it pensively.
Tanner nodded. “I cannot determine whether anyone else used the bottle. I only have the evidence that she used it. I have her admission that she sedated hotel guests to steal from them. It would be easy to argue that she sedated Eva Reuter as well and it went tragically wrong. She probably didn’t want her to die, but—”
“Still, it is particularly convenient for a few people that Eva died.” Atalanta eyed him squarely. “She was very curious and even said to us that she wanted to investigate certain matters.” She waited a moment and added, “But you must have found that out already yourself.”
“If this is your way to check whether I have been thorough, I can assure you that I have been.” Tanner puffed up his chest. “I have discovered via the staff that Eva was asking a lot of questions about the card games being held here. Apparently she had a theory that it was not merely innocent gambling but a way for Vincenzo Dulce to earn money from the rich.”
Atalanta blinked a moment. “You mean it is a form of criminal activity?”
“It could be.” Tanner held her gaze. “Your friend Raoul Lemont is a driver in Vincenzo Dulce’s team. I do not want to cast aspersions on his sponsor. I am merely saying that the staff informed me of Eva’s interest in the card games.”
“I see. Have you asked Maurizio about those card games?”
“Not yet.” Tanner kept watching her. “I first wanted to get your opinion about them. You have been staying here for some time now. Have you noticed anything strange going on?”
“As a woman, I am not invited to the card games. I have no idea what’s happening with those. I do know Dieter Bergreiter is always losing money when he is here. But perhaps he’s just a bad card player?”
“Yes, who knows?” Tanner seemed disappointed by her lack of information for him. He rubbed his hands together. “I must focus on the matters at hand. At least with the jewel thefts solved I have a success to my credit, one that will please the hotel manager and the owner.”
He sounded a bit cynical. Atalanta frowned as she watched him. What was Tanner really after? Why had he joined the police force? Was he hoping that the Dulces would pay him for the successful solving of a crime that ensured the hotel’s name would not be tainted? Did he think this job could make him rich?
But why then mention to her that the card games might be a cover for criminal activities? She could easily tell Maurizio he had said so.
Or was he hoping she would do some discreet sleuthing for him? Why would she, considering the risk? If Maurizio had poisoned Eva’s tea …
Tanner said, “You were so certain that Franco was innocent. Do you think I should let him go? Can he come back here to resume working?”
“I don’t know if Maurizio would want him back. That is not my decision to make.” Atalanta took a deep breath. “There is, of course, the matter of Franco being Eva’s stepson. He had an interest in her death seeing as she robbed him and his siblings of all their money.”
“And he happened to use the same sedative as the secretary?”
“Perhaps the prior theft got him thinking. Perhaps he had figured out that although Sylvia and her boyfriend fled, they were not guilty and it had actually been a guest. He is the bartender. Perhaps he witnessed the sedative being administered? It could have given him the idea to use the same method to kill Eva and have another be blamed.”
Tanner nodded slowly. “It sounds possible but is it likely he would have gone anywhere near her after he poisoned the tea?”
“Perhaps she kept him there too long? Or it worked faster than he anticipated? We don’t know.” Atalanta thought a moment whether she wanted to share the information or not, but then decided that she had to, because of her own conscience. “Theresa found something else beside the dead body. A gold tie clip. She believes it belongs to Dieter Bergreiter. She is blackmailing him with the knowledge. I know she drank the cocktail with the sedative by mistake, but … I do think she is playing a dangerous game. You should warn her to stop it.”
Tanner tilted his head. “How long have you known this?”
Atalanta flushed. “Longer than I should have. I mean, I should not have kept quiet. I should have informed you straight away.”
“Why?” Tanner kept looking at her. “You are not with the police. You are not obliged to report to me. You can hear things and consider them … pointless gossip?”
“What she is doing is dangerous.”
“Dangerous? You think Herr Bergreiter would kill her to keep her quiet?”
“If he is Eva’s murderer then why not?” Atalanta decided to stand her ground. “Theresa is playing a game with him to get money to fund a luxury lifestyle, but I wonder if it is worth it.”
Tanner seemed to suppress a smile. “Your concern is commendable. But you are selective in your reporting. You share with me that Theresa is blackmailing Bergreiter, but you don’t tell me that Eva Reuter handed Alexander Hansen the information that your friend’s accident was in fact sabotage so another could get his seat on the team.”
Atalanta flushed deeply. She had suspected that one of Tanner’s men had followed her and Raoul to their meeting with Hansen at Hotel Moser by the lake. Perhaps Tanner had subsequently contacted Hansen and put pressure on him to reveal all he knew about Eva?
“I can only assume that you are protecting your friend,” Tanner said. “That you do not want to believe any of this sabotage story, because it would mean he is in actual danger. You dismissed it as pointless gossip by Eva Reuter to make herself important with Hansen and get money or something like that. I have to assume that this is the case or else I would be forced to assume that you are shielding Maurizio Dulce.”
He took a step back before adding, “I would rather not think so.”
She felt a niggle of guilt that she had not told Tanner about the pills Eva had taken from Maurizio’s office. The ones Eva had wanted Margot’s doctor to analyse. It suggested that she had been onto something shady concerning Maurizio. He could very well be Eva’s killer. But she still wasn’t convinced that Maurizio would really take the chance of murdering someone at his uncle’s hotel, thus drawing police attention onto them and their activities. It was illogical.
Still, she had to give him a reason why she had been so reticent to alleviate his suspicions of her intentions. Atalanta cleared her throat.
“I have been looking into a few points because I thought I should be thorough and not come to you with half a story. Raoul’s accident might well have been a genuine accident. I do not know as of yet and I don’t want to accuse people without proof.”
“I understand.” Tanner touched his hat to take his leave. He turned back to her and said, “But there is a saying that a dog never bites the hand that feeds it.” Then he walked away.
Atalanta was left perplexed. Did he mean to imply that she was shielding the Dulces because they were the hand feeding her? Or indirectly through Raoul’s spot on the new team? His meaning could also be far more ominous. He might have been using this conversation to make it clear to her, subtly, that he was himself on the Dulces’s payroll; that he was a bought policeman who would protect their interests. He might have been implying that it would be better for her to steer clear of any shock revelations about what was really going on at the hotel, because if she did decide to go against the Dulces, she would discover that there was no one on her side.
Chapter Twenty
Renard knocked discreetly on the bedroom door. He had waited until it was quiet and everyone had gone to bed to come to his mistress’s room to speak to her. He felt that the information he had received was urgent enough to warrant a conversation, but had to make certain it was done in absolute privacy.
She opened the door a crack and looked out. When she recognised him, the tension left her features and she gladly invited him in. As he entered and stood waiting for her to make herself comfortable on the sofa, it hurt him to think she was under such strain. She was staying with the enemy, so to speak, and she knew it. Handling murder cases was always difficult and dangerous because she was usually under the same roof as a ruthless killer who, when cornered, might strike at her. But here it was even worse. This hotel belonged to the Dulces who had Raoul Lemont dangling like a puppet on a string. Mademoiselle Ashford would not forsake him, but perhaps for her own safety she should. He wanted to convince her of this, but at the same time knew it served no purpose. She would never abandon Lemont.
Renard felt the tension between his shoulder blades. He had to protect his mistress. That was his assigned role even if his deceased master had never told him in so many words. He had initiated her into the sleuthing business, step by step, and ensured she didn’t risk too much. But where it was possible to advise her when it came to cases, it was so much harder to direct her in her personal life. He had never thought that someone as pragmatic and logical as her would get carried away by emotions and yet, in a strange way, it also made sense. She had no one in her life – no one to care for, no one to care for her. She was all alone and she ached for closeness. To Renard’s mind, she was attempting to find it with someone unsuitable, but his ideas did not matter. Her safety did.
She said, “You look very serious.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I have bad news.” He was not normally so dramatic but he felt that now he should paint the danger in the strongest possible colours. “I have spoken with a few people. It was difficult as the community here is very guarded and no one wants to reveal anything about the Dulces. But finally I spoke to a man who was very frank. It is no wonder, since he is the father of the previous police officer in this region.”
“The one who was killed in the car accident?”
“It was no accident. He was run off the road on purpose because he was getting too close to revealing the criminal activities of Vincenzo Dulce and his nephew.” Renard held her gaze. “That man was a danger to them, and they did not hesitate to remove him. Even though it looked suspicious, they wanted him gone and they acted.”
“That’s what the father thinks,” she countered. “He is distraught because he lost his son and he is looking for reasons why the accident happened. He cannot accept it was just an accident, a pointless death.”
Renard would normally have applauded Mademoiselle Ashford for always looking closely and considering all angles of a case. He would have agreed that it was possible for grief to make people assume things that were not in fact reality. But today he wanted her to assume it was true and make sure she got away from here unharmed.
He said, “I think he is not an emotional or vindictive man. He knows what he is talking about. His son was investigating serious crimes and he was killed to stop that.”
“What does this have to do with the murders here? Do you think he worked out who had been killed in the grotto? The unidentified remains?”
Renard shook his head impatiently. “I don’t know anything about that. I am trying to explain to you how hazardous it can be to cross the Dulces.”
She leaned back against the sofa. “I am not crossing the Dulces. In fact, I have done Maurizio a favour by exposing the jewel thief who was plaguing the hotel. With her arrest, things can settle down.” She held his gaze and continued, “Inspector Tanner will likely charge her with the murder as well. Or if he thinks he cannot prove it, then he has Franco as a backup.”
Renard felt anger rise in his chest. “So with two eligible suspects the case is closed to everyone’s satisfaction?”
“I cannot see how I can change much about it. Tanner made it very clear to me that he is not willing to stir the pot.”
“Non, of course not.” Renard raised a hand in agitation. “He is on the Dulces’s payroll. He was appointed shortly after the car accident that killed the previous police officer! He has been put in place by them as their puppet! He must keep them away from the limelight. He does not care who he has to arrest for murder in this hotel as long as it is not a Dulce or anyone associated with them.”
