Serafina was beginning to like Alphonse Valois. “You walk often, Inspector?”
He nodded. “As much as I can. Especially when I need to think. I found Madame de Masson’s reaction quite…”
“Remarkable?” Loffredo supplied.
“Has she always shown such antipathy toward you?” Serafina asked.
Loffredo nodded. “She was against our marriage, especially Elena’s conversion. She blames me for Elena’s behavior.”
Valois shook his head.
The madam hung onto her hat. “You’ll love this brasserie, at least I did the last time I was here. It had just opened and a friend and I had an intimate table in the back. They had tall waiters with blond hair, almost as delicious as the food.”
They were seated right away at a round table in the small bistro. Serafina sat to the left of Loffredo, her good hand free to roam. Each ordered a beer and watched as the bartender filled four mugs with a rich yellow liquid from a barrel. The waiter brought them to their table on a small round cork tray, the foam bubbling over the sides and the glasses sweating. Taking out a pad wedged between his apron and shirt, he licked the tip of his pencil and stood poised to take their order.
“Please don’t choose some delicate fish and gentle wine,” Rosa said to Serafina. “This is Alsatian. Order hearty food.”
“I’ll have what I want. I always do.”
“Not always,” Rosa said, with a meaningful glance at Loffredo.
Loffredo reddened into the menu. “I’ve eaten here. The food is excellent, and whatever you have will be a treat. You can’t make a mistake.”
Serafina looked at the madam while she ordered the wild cod served in a tomato sauce with a side of beans, delighted at Rosa’s response, an expressive roll of her eyes. Loffredo chose the calves liver in onions with steamed potatoes, Valois a beef fillet with pommes frites and a side of a creamy mustard, and Rosa, the lamb stew with vegetables served over mashed potatoes. She asked the waiter to bring them a side order of sausage.
They were the only people in the small room, the hour late for dining.
In a few minutes, the waiter returned with four plates, the sizzling sausage, and a side of sauerkraut.
Rosa cut into the meat and dipping her fork into the sauerkraut and mustard. She took a large bite, the sides of her face bulging, washing it down with a gulp of her beer. Loffredo cut a piece and passed the plate to Serafina who took a bite, savoring the rich, spicy meat, listening to the crack and spit coming from the plate.
Rosa reached into her pocket. “Enough of this silence. We’re the only customers and Sophie won’t leave my head. I found these in Elena’s kitchen.” She plunked the promissory notes into the middle of the table.
The paper sat, accusatory, another confirmation of what Serafina knew. She said nothing, but when her good hand wasn’t resting on Loffredo’s leg, she sipped her beer. It making her head spin a little and she felt giddy, waiting for Valois’ reaction to the notes.
“Who is Ricci de Masson?” he asked after he read one of the notes.
“Sophie’s youngest son,” Rosa said.
“Engaging, I might add,” Serafina said. “We met him the day after we arrived in Paris while we waited for Sophie, remember?”
Rosa nodded.
“Do you know him?” Valois asked, directing his question to Loffredo.
Before he could answer, two waiters in starched aprons cleared their table and brought their entrees, taking orders for refills. Serafina declined more beer, but Valois, Rosa, and Loffredo ordered a second round.
“To answer your question, yes, I’ve met him and I like him. A lost soul who thinks he can win vast sums of money by betting on the horses,” Rosa said.
“He speaks in poetic terms about Longchamp,” Serafina said. “He’s an endearing young man.”
Loffredo shrugged. “Most members of the Busacca family become angry when they hide something, I’ve noticed. What do you think Sophie’s hiding?”
“Not just that family. Many people become irate when caught,” Valois said. “But you’re right, she was an angry, broken woman.”
“Did you notice the warn spots in the carpet, the split in the wallpaper?” Serafina asked.
Valois nodded.
“Why did I miss that?” The madam’s eyes narrowed. “Lucre rears its ugly head.”
There was silence while Serafina scooped cod and tomatoes onto her spoon, breathing in the melange of spices.
“I think Sophie is angry she’s been caught out. And she’s angry her sight is failing,” Rosa said, eating a forkful of stew and sipping her beer. “She’s an old woman who tries to preserve the past, and her children are not interested in business.”
Serafina told Valois about Carmela and Tessa visiting the Busacca millinery shops and what they’d found. “Except for their flagship store on the Rue de la Paix, they are mismanaged.”
“Ricci spends when he shouldn’t,” Rosa said. “The middle son saves when he shouldn’t. Sophie fears the future and counts her money twice.”
Serafina ran a napkin around her mouth and pushed away her plate. “So you think perhaps Sophie made an honest mistake? Because of her failing eyesight she couldn’t see the distinguishing features of the body, and since she was in the Paris morgue, a frightful place, she wanted to get the ordeal over with quickly?”
“I do,” Rosa said. “But somewhere, somehow money changed hands. I hear the ca-chink of conspiracy.”
Valois looked at Rosa and smiled.
Under the table, Loffredo reached for Serafina’s hand. A powerful shock passed between them, too strong for Serafina to resist. This time she wasn’t about to let go. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stand the celibate life much longer. She looked at Valois whose face was unreadable only because there wasn’t much there. The inspector took a large gulp of beer and set the glass down rather noisily, sat back and smiled at Serafina. He was feeling the beer, too. She prayed that she and Loffredo would not make a slip, but it was a small prayer. Meager.
“What do you think, Loffredo?” she asked, running a hand up his thigh.
“I think Sophie’s has a part in the plan,” he said, wiping his forehead. “She helps to hide Elena. I think… Elena lives, but she is not in Paris.” His breath came more rapidly. “I’m not sure why Elena wanted to disappear. Perhaps her ruse is a dalliance, a way to shock, and the family, for a price, supports her.”
“That’s an interesting theory, Valois said. “You talk of conspiracy.”
Loffredo stopped talking and looked out the window, his eyes bright, his nostrils flared. Then he shot forward in his chair and loosened his cravat.
“Are you all right?” Valois asked, noticing the beads of sweat on Loffredo’s forehead.
“Perfectly fine. Perfect. Something went down the wrong way. Just give… me… a… moment.”
Rosa hiked one corner of her mouth. “Be careful,” she said, under her breath, narrowing her eyes at Serafina and taking another bite of lamb.
Chapter 27: Le Coup de Grace
After the meal, they said goodbye to Valois. He said he would get word to them when the order of exhumation was complete.
“About how long will it take?” Serafina asked.
Valois gave a Gallic shrug.
Rosa asked to be excused, saying she’d forgotten she was to meet Tessa and Carmela who wanted to show her an artist’s studio. The three agreed to meet at five o’clock in the Luxembourg Gardens.
Serafina and Loffredo found themselves alone.
“I’m going to explode,” he said.
“But what can we do?”
“Valois is an innocent-he suspects nothing-and Rue Jacob is filled with students. It won’t take us long. We have to… or we won’t be able to think. I’m mad for you.”
They found a cab and were in front of his hotel within the half hour.
“I was afraid you’d never want to, never again,” she said, but stopped at the door and turned.