Macaron Murder (with Recipes) (A Patisserie Mystery) (10 page)

“So who killed la gardienne?” Cyril asked.

“I don’t know,” said Lara. “She was bragging about getting some money from some other tenants that she’d blackmailed and that she was about to hit a jackpot with someone new, but she didn’t give me the details. When I heard the news the next day, I’d assumed that one of her blackmail victims had killed her. I didn’t want to get involved of course, so I didn’t tell about Dubois.”
 

“My father didn’t do it,” said Arthur. “For the last time. He was so drunk after dinner that he fell asleep in the living room and we left him there.”
 

“I didn’t think he did,” Lara softly. “He’s not the type to do something like that.”
 

“But the type to cheat on his wife,” Arthur muttered. “With some cheap—”

“Okay,”
 
Clémence interjected. She steered the interrogation back on track. “Any idea who the other victims were? What kind of dirt did she have? Did she make any other plans to trap tenants into uncompromising situations like with you and Dubois?”

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to get a couple in their 50s in the other building because they were always playing their music too loud. I’m not sure what happened. She really wanted to get back at the Dubois family because she hated them. The children, I agree, are nasty.”

“Hey!” Arthur interjected.

“It’s true,” Lara spat back. “They threw condom water balloons at her door, and your mother would claim that they’re innocent when they’re not.”

“
Calmez-vous
,” said Cyril. “Calm down. Who else did she have a vendetta against?”

“She also didn’t like this French student who lives on the roof. He’d leave his hair in the shower and didn’t flush his toilet.”
 

“You think she’d blackmail him for money too?” Clémence asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “The student probably doesn’t have much money. La gardienne doesn’t tell me everything. Like I said, I was only involved in the Dubois situation.”
 

Cyril’s face fell. Clémence knew it was because they were back at square one. It could be a number of people. Could it even be Madame Dubois? She didn’t want to suggest this out loud to Arthur. He looked upset enough.

Arthur stood up and glowered at Lara with extreme hatred. “You’re fired. You hear? I want you out of that room by tomorrow. I don’t care where you go. Just get out.”
 

He stormed out, and Lara began crying.

CHAPTER 17

“So that’s the story so far,” Clémence said.
 

She’d told Sebastien all that had happened. It had been three days, and they still did not find the killer. Cyril and his team had gone around interrogating the tenants again. He might’ve uncovered more blackmail cases, details he refused to tell her, but as far as Clémence knew, no one had been arrested.

“What do you guys think? Is there something I’m missing?”

“No clue,” said Sebastien.

“Well, it’s something to do with a document. A clue that the killer didn’t want us to have that he or she thought was still in la gardienne’s apartment.”

“But then again, you didn’t know what was there to begin with, so it’s hard to say what’s missing, isn’t it?” Sebastien poured cream into a piping bag.

“Exactly,” said Clémence. “I think we’ve hit a wall.”
 

Sebastien was putting the cream on the flat ends of the macaron shells. Each one was topped with another shell to make the macaron sandwich. He had made the green tea flavor.

“Try it.” He gave one to Clémence.

“Perfect.” Clémence smiled. “Can you make some more? Hmm. Really delicious.”
 

“Perfect, huh?” Sebastien grinned. “It only took a dozen tries.”
 

“Worth the effort, don’t you think?” said Clémence. “I love my job.”
 

“So you’re pretty careful these days, right?” Sebastien asked her. “I mean, someone in your building almost gave you a concussion. Aren’t you afraid?”
 

“Nah. Miffy will protect me. I’m not afraid. I just can’t be so careless.”
 

“If you’re ever going home alone late at night, you have to watch out.”
 

“Thanks Sebastien.”
 

Seb was a caring guy beneath the facade of indifference. She was glad to have him as a friend. If Celine could see this side of him, she’d fall even harder in love. Lately, she’d been passing the time with Sam, so maybe she was over Seb already.

Berenice came in to start her shift. She was glowing more than usual.

“Hey, how did things go with Ben?” Clémence asked her.

“We had a good time yesterday night,” she said. “We picnicked at the Pont des Art. Then we’re supposed to meet up for a casual drink tomorrow. But no biggie. We’re just hanging out.”
 

Clémence knew the look on her friend’s face. One part mischief and one part naiveté. She was falling fast, but Berenice fell out of love just as often.

“Remember,” Seb said. “If he asks you to go home, say no. That’s guy code for one thing.”
 

Berenice rolled her eyes. “Oh we’re well aware of what guys want. It’s what girls want that guys are oblivious to.”
 

“Just be careful,” Seb warned.
 

Clémence and Berenice laughed. Sometimes she didn’t know what to make of him. It was as if his personality changed every day. Today, Seb played the part of the concerned father.
 

***

Clémence went home after lunch to let the cleaner, Magda, in. This was the first time she’d met the middle-aged cleaner and she came in with her bag of supplies and the day’s mail.
 

Some bills for her parents, a postcard from her mom from when she was in Tokyo, and a letter addressed to her. It was an invoice from the dentist that she would declare to her insurance.

In the kitchen, she had a cup of tea and read the postcard. Her mom had etched out an anecdote of getting lost on the train. Apparently they took the express by mistake and they ended up missing their stop, then they took the wrong train again in the opposite direction. It wasn’t a classic anecdote, but her mother was easily amused by most things.

She opened up the invoice next, and her eyes widened in shock at the amount that was billed to her. She was supposed to be charged for a checkup, not getting her wisdom teeth pulled out. Although Clémence’s family was wealthy now, they grew up very much middle class, where things like money did matter a great deal.

After she finished her tea, she went downstairs right away to sort out the matter.

“I’ll be right back, Magda!”
 

“
Oui, madame
.”
 

Miffy barked a farewell as well.
 

It was past 2pm, but the dentist seemed to be closed. The little plaque on the door said they were closed between 12:45pm to 2:30pm for lunch. Lunch was a proper affair in France. It wasn’t unusual for certain offices and restaurants to be closed for extended periods of time.
 

She was about to go back upstairs when she heard footsteps coming up from the main floor. It was the dentist, Phillipe Rousseau, who grinned at the sight of her.
 

“Can I help you with something?” he asked.

“Bonjour Monsieur, I think your secretary made a small error with my invoice.”

“Oh?”
 

She showed him the paper. “I only had a cleaning. My wisdom teeth was pulled out a long time ago.”
 

Phillipe laughed in embarrassment.
 

“I’m so sorry. Susie must’ve mixed up the accounts. I can help you get that sorted right away.”
 

“I didn’t mean to bother you during your lunch time,” Clémence said. “I didn’t know your hours.”
 

Phillipe unlocked the door, still smiling. “No problem. We can get this fixed in a minute.”
 

They went in and he took off his coat and threw it on a chair in the waiting room. Then he began to type on the receptionist’s computer.

Clémence never knew his coat was Burberry until she saw the label. It was an olive colored coat that she didn’t typically associate with the brand. The buttons were like the wooden one in her dog’s mouth, except the one at the bottom was simply brown—a replacement button.

“Is anything the matter?”
 

Phillipe was staring at her.

Clémence looked up at him. “No. I was just—admiring your jacket. I’d like to buy my father one.”
 

“Ah, yes.”
 

Phillipe stepped around and held up the jacket. “It’s quite nice, isn’t it? I’ve had it for five or six years now and it’s still as good as new.”
 

Except for the button. But it could’ve meant anything. She didn’t even have proof that Miffy took the button from inside la gardienne’s apartment, and if she did, so what? She already knew that Phillipe had been inside her house to help her check teeth, as he’d already explained to her. It didn’t mean that he was the killer.
 

But the way he was blocking her from the door made Clémence uncomfortable. And the clouded look in his dark eyes. She took a step and Phillipe blocked her.

“All right.” His voice became sharp. “What do you know?”
 

“What?”
 

“Don’t play dumb, Damour. I know you’ve been snooping around. You’ve got a head injury or something?”
 

Phillipe chuckled.

Clémence’s hands turned into fists.

“So it was you! You were the one who hit me!”
 

Damour laughed. “Serves you right for getting into my business.”
 

“But why?” Clémence tried to stall for time.
 

“Why? Oh that gardienne. I hate snoops. She opened my mail. Knew that a former client was taking me to court for charging her for a surgery I didn’t perform.”
 

“So you committed dental fraud?”
 

“Yes. I needed some extra money for my family. We have five kids. Paris is not a cheap place to live, you know, at least for the working class.”

He glanced at her as if she should’ve apologized for being rich.
 

“The whole thing could’ve been cast aside if it wasn’t for her,” he said. “I would’ve just paid the settlement, that is, if they could even prove that I committed dental fraud. I’ve done this for years, but that had been the only time that I’d been caught. It all would’ve went away if it wasn’t for la gardienne. She was threatening to ruin my reputation, have my license pulled, tell each of my client who passed through the door what I’ve been accused of doing. And she wanted a 100,000 payout? Well, I couldn’t have that now, could I? What if she kept pumping me for money for the rest of my life? I had a lot to lose.”
 

“So you just killed her?”
 

“Well, I hadn’t planned on it. I was just going to talk some sense into her, give her some free dental care, but no. She wouldn’t budge. So I hit her and she never got up. That’s not killing.”
 

“It is if she’s dead,” Clémence said.
 

Phillipe chuckled again. His eyes shone, looking at her like prey.

“Well, if I’m already a killer, then I might as well continue.”
 

He lunged at her, but Clémence screamed and jerked away. “You can’t do this! Help!”
 

He put a hand over her mouth. “Listen here you little bitch. No one’s in this office for the next half hour. No one’s on the floor on top either, so they won’t hear your screams. I can do whatever I want with you at this point.”
 

He began to choke her from behind, but Clémence quickly gathered all her strength knocked her head back to butt him in the forehead, then knocked him with her elbow. She kicked him hard in the groin.
 

She’d learned a little self-defense from a friend when she was in Morocco.
 

“Ow!” He stumbled, clutching his crotch area.

Clémence ran out the door, shouting “
Au secour! Au secour!
” Help! Help!

CHAPTER 18

After Clémence ran out, she explained that the dentist had attacked her to some construction workers restoring a building across the street. When Phillipe ran out, she pointed him to them, and they held him down until Cyril and the police came and arrested him.
 

Celine, Berenice and Seb came around to Clémence’s place after she called the shop. They wanted to make sure that she was all right. Seb had even brought a box of the macarons that they’d created together. Ben came down as well, a bottle of wine in hand. Wine was Ben’s solution to life’s problems.

Clémence shook her head. “A murderous dentist. Who would’ve thought? He could’ve just been a fraudulent dentist with a revoked license instead of a murderer.”

Clémence felt sorry for Phillipe’s kids. Imagine having psychopathic murderer and con artist for a father.

“You’re such a badass,” Berenice exclaimed. “Beating him down like that.”
 

They had gathered in her living room, drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon.
 

“Don’t tell my parents, guys,” said Clémence. “I don’t want them to worry and come home early because of this small incident.

“You could’ve been dead.” Seb frowned. “It’s not a small incident.”
 

“Stop being so pessimistic,” said Berenice. “She’s alive and well, and she helped solve the case. It’s all behind her now.”
 

“That inspector should be kissing your ass,” Ben said in his heavily accented French.
 

“He’s grateful,” said Clémence. “But he’ll never admit it. And he’ll never apologize for accusing me of being the murderer either.”
 

Someone knocked on the door. Usually guests had to buzz downstairs to get upstairs. She wondered if it was just Magda who’d forgotten something because she had just left.