Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) (20 page)

“Hi. Sorry it took so long. Is everyone ready to go?”

We trudged down the stairs and walked to the tram stop. It was a glorious sunny day. Along the avenue people had window boxes filled with flowers in blazing colors. Traffic was light and I could see children happily and
safely
skating along the closed road in the Bois. The work had been finished on the other road this past week, and the Bois road was back to being closed on the weekends. We turned right on Avenue Bresil and reached the tram on the
Avenue du Derby
just as it was pulling away.

“Damn,” Sam muttered. “I hope they still have some of those olives left by time we get there.”

“Did you see the barrels they had last week? I have a feeling there’ll be plenty.” I took a seat on the bench under a small covering and tilted my head to look up at my husband, shielding my eyes from the sun.

John leaned against a glass paneling with an advertisement for a light, airy cracker filled with fruit Sam and I had discovered at the market. We had promptly gone back and purchased several boxes to take home. “Doug was found with a piece of dental floss around his neck.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” I made the sign of the cross. “Then it was the same person who killed Martine.”

John squinted his gray eyes, which had taken on green tones matching his polo shirt, against the sun. “It appears to be. Though he was hit over the head with something heavy first. There’s a chunk of marble on his desk and they’re pretty sure it’s the weapon.”

“His desk?” Sam asked. “Where exactly was he killed?”

“His office. There was a bit of a struggle, which is why the killer probably bashed him on the head first with the weight. Of course, he’s much bigger than Martine was, so you would imagine there would be some kind of resistance on his part.”

I pulled up one leg and rested it on the edge of the bench. All the walking we had been doing in Antwerp and Amsterdam seemed to do the trick and I was able to wear my low-rise denim shorts again with a T-shirt I had bought in Bruges. “How terrible. Where was Bill at the time? Is he okay?” I asked.

“I haven’t talked with Wanda, but Bill left for Switzerland on Thursday morning and he’s still there. Doug was killed on Friday night. I guess he worked late from what Donna told Gerard. He usually does on Friday to recap the week’s activities.”

“Did anyone see anything?” Michael asked.

The sound of an approaching tram caught our attention. We watched as the 94 tram snaked its way up the gradual slope of the street coming to a stop in front of us. We climbed up the steps, validated our ticket, and found seats on the almost-empty tram.

“No.” John shook his head. “Their office is located on the top floor of an old house. No one lives in the house. It’s just used for office space. So there was no guard or anything. There’s a downstairs door, much like we have in our building. It’s usually locked, but one of the other tenants could have left it unlatched. Besides, there were some scratches on it and the wood around the door frame was splintered, so someone could have tried to pry it open.”

I pulled a bottle of water out of my backpack and unscrewed the cap. “Does Gerard have any ideas on who the murderer could be?” I held my breath in anticipation of John’s answer.

John turned his head to look at me. “Well, Paul Cassé is looking better and better, isn’t he? His wife is pregnant, he finds out she had an affair with Doug, he kills both of them.”

“You sound pretty certain about this.” I frowned. “Why couldn’t it be Donna? She’s a cold fish, I can tell you that.”

“She’s on the list as well.”

“I don’t see a woman killing Doug.” Michael gazed out the window as the tram traveled along the back of the university.

“Well, if she hit him over the head first, then it wouldn’t have been too difficult. Gerard’s not sure yet whether the blow to the head or the strangulation killed him.”

“Who found the body, by the way?” Michael asked.

“Donna. She woke in the middle of the night and Doug still wasn’t home. She tried calling the office and got no answer. Same with his cell. She says she got worried and went over there and when she saw the light on from the street, she knew something was wrong.”

“I take it she has a key?” I asked.

“Yeah, she does.”

“Which would have made it very easy for her to get in earlier in the evening and kill him,” Sam suggested.

“John, a thought just occurred to me,” I said, forgetting for the moment my husband strongly suspected a man I knew wasn’t capable of murder. “What if the blow to the head killed him and the killer just used the floss to make it look like the same person killed both Doug and Martine? Maybe it’s someone else entirely. Can the police tell if the floss came from the same package as the other?”

“I’m not sure. I would imagine there must be some similarities. If not to tell the exact box, then at least the same batch or lot number. The manufacturer must have some controls for stuff like this.”

“Maybe, but who would have thought their product would be used for murder?” Michael asked.

John took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “But if it wasn’t the same person, it had to be someone who was at the cookout and knew about the floss. Which leaves out a total stranger breaking in.”

“He’s right.” Sam sat on a bench facing me and John. “Or how about this? It
is
the same killer, but he
or
she is trying to make it look like it’s a different person trying to make it look like it’s the same person. Or has anyone thought to check the floss for DNA. I mean, if it had been used, then there should be saliva, right?”

“I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep,” I said to my sister.

“You’ve all come up with good scenarios and I’m sure Gerard will be giving everything a lot of thought. He’s very meticulous and in addition to being a good cop, he’s a good person. If he wasn’t, I think he would have arrested Paul by now. But I don’t think Gerard is convinced of his guilt and he’s not about to rush into anything.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” I said, “because if you’re thinking of pinning all of this on Paul, you’re on the wrong track.”

Many hours later we returned to the apartment carrying more shopping bags than we knew would fit into our suitcases. Sam and I bought more lace and we each found another watercolor of some local scenes. Michael bought enough candy to make Godiva stock soar explaining he had a lot of nurses and dental hygienists back home who had made him promise to bring back chocolate.

“But they can get Godiva at the mall,” Sam complained as she unloaded packages and placed them in the hall closet.

I kicked off my tennis shoes and sat on the steps leading to the bedrooms, massaging my left foot. “You’re just worried with all the candy you might have to leave something behind,” I chided my sister. “You know, you could eat some of it now.”

“I was thinking that.” Sam smiled as she reached for a box.

Michael snatched the box out of her hand. “You two could buy lace back home as well. And watercolors.”

“It wouldn’t be the same.” I looked at my brother-in-law and pouted.

“Exactly.”

Twenty minutes later I propped my head up on a pillow in bed. I turned the page on the latest Michael Connelly novel just as John came out of the bathroom. “Alex, promise me something.” He climbed in next to me.

“What? That I never sneak up on you with some mint floss?”

John grimaced. “Not funny. No, I want you and your sidekick to stay out of it. It didn’t seem so dangerous before when you were just visiting people and sniffing around. But now with two people dead, things have changed.”

“Well, assuming you’ll be off helping Gerard again, what am I supposed to do?” I asked with indignation creeping into my voice. I wondered if we were going to have our first real argument as man and wife—a thought that seemed somehow appealing as the various ways of making up came to mind. “I assume it’s all right for me to go to the club for lunch?”

“Alex, don’t push it. Your safety is not open for discussion. Nor is the chance you might be thrown into a Belgian jail for interfering in a police investigation. Do I make myself clear?” John asked.

I shrugged and turned back to my book and John rolled over. “Well, I have to eat, don’t I?” I said very softly to his back.

Chapter 30

“Should we be doing this?” Sam asked the next morning as we drove to Wanda’s house.

I didn’t answer my sister. I had a funny feeling we were being followed. I felt certain we had picked up someone not too far from the post office. I glanced in the rearview mirror again feeling foolish but not able to help myself. Directly behind us was a small white car. Not new. It looked like half of the other cars on the road. White and red seemed to be the predominant color for cars in Belgium though some newer models had the ingenuity to come up with some rather dazzling colors, most notably a deep blue and a fluorescent green.

“I said, should we be doing this? I thought John told you to stay out of it. What’s wrong with you?”

I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “I think we’re being followed.”

“And this is a good thing?” Sam swiveled around and looked out the back window. “That idiot. Is he still back there?”

“What on earth are you talking about? Do you know him?” I steered the car down a narrow road with cars parked on both sides.

“It’s that guy I flipped off when he tried to maneuver in front of us at that left turn right after we left the post office.”

“Samantha! Don’t aggravate these people. They already have a death wish when they get behind a wheel. Don’t give them any more ammunition.”

“Sorry. I think he’s turning. Yep, he’s gone. So I was saying. Should we be going to Wanda’s?”

“Of course. Why not? The partner of Wanda’s husband has just been killed. I think we should check in on her and make sure she’s okay. Besides, with the guys gone, what else were we going to do?”

“We could go to London for the day.”

“Hey! That sounds good. Maybe we should check with the travel agent in our neighborhood this afternoon.”

“I mean with John working with Gerard and Michael at the university with Doctor Dilworth—” Sam’s voice trailed off. “Maybe I should get to know this Doctor Dilworth better. Michael sure is spending a lot of time with her.”

“What’s he doing at the university?” I asked as we once again turned onto the road cutting through the
Forêst De Soignes
.

“Doctor Dilworth teaches a class to the dentistry students and she asked Michael to speak on dental practices in the United States.”

“Forgive me for asking, but we’ve only been here a few weeks and I don’t remember Michael speaking French before we arrived. When did he find time to learn the language?”

“He didn’t and he hasn’t. A lot of medical courses are taught in English. As a matter of fact, most of the medical books the students use are in English. That’s what he was scribbling on during our train journeys this past weekend, his speech.”

“Well, that makes it a lot easier for him.”

“A lot easier for the students is more like it.” Sam laughed. “Could you imagine if they had to listen to Michael struggle in French for hours.” Sam rolled the window down and her light brown shoulder-length hair blew in all directions. She took a scrunchie out of her fanny pack and pulled her hair together, securing it in the back. “I’ve been meaning to ask you why you went to church yesterday.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I answered as I swerved to avoid a small dog. “I felt like getting out.”

“That was the only place you could think of to go in this wonderful country?” Sam look perplexed.

“No. But I wanted to see what kind of a preacher Tom is.”

“And?”

“Very good, as it turns out. If we had someone like him when we were growing up, we might still be going to church every Sunday. He was quite powerful and he really held the congregation’s attention. He also announced he got the promotion in California, so he and Jobeth will be leaving.”

“He may be a good preacher, but it doesn’t seem like he was much of a marriage counselor.”

I looked over at my sister. “Why do you say that?”

“He didn’t seem to help Martine much. She and Paul still had major problems.”

“True, but that’s not Tom’s fault. And besides, it didn’t sound as if she had been going very long and she went by herself, not with Paul, so it would have been pretty difficult for them to actually work on their problems. Maybe she just started to go and realized it was hopeless. Not every couple should remain together,” I said somewhat wistfully, hoping my last statement did not apply to me and John.

“You’re right,” Sam agreed. “If one party really wants children, and the other doesn’t, ever, then it would be a rather difficult obstacle to overcome. I’ll tell you one thing, I don’t really believe Paul killed his wife, but even if he did, I just don’t see him killing Doug as well.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “I’m glad to hear you believe Paul. I agree, I
know
he didn’t kill Martine, ergo, he didn’t kill Doug either.”

“Ergo?”

“Ergo. It’s a word. And this may sound heartless, but I think deep down, even though Paul loved Martine, I really think he realized the end of the marriage was imminent. And while it probably caused him great distress, I think he felt resigned to the fact they weren’t a good match. So there would’ve been no reason to kill her. Even if he knew about the baby beforehand, he might have seen it as an excuse to end things once and for all.”

“And if he suspected Doug as the father, which I don’t think he did,” added Sam, “I don’t see him killing the man over it. Yes, he would have been hurt, angry even, but I think you’re right. Deep down, I feel like he knew the marriage was over.”

I was quiet for a moment.

“What are you thinking?”

“We’re forgetting Paul was hitting Martine. And she did have bruises.”

“Yeah. But he denies he ever hit her. Maybe she fell.”

“But then why would she lie and tell Tom Paul hit her?” I asked.