Page 26 of One Last Goodbye

“Good. You need to stay off of their radar. Have they made a ruling on the death?”

“They found a note, but I don’t know if they’ve officially called it a suicide yet. The detective suggested it was, but I don’t know if he’s fully convinced. He interrogated me fairly… well, I thought fairly intensely, anyway.”

“He could just be doing his due diligence, but either way, keep what you suspect to yourself. Let me keep digging for information on the business and Frederick’s personal life. I’m sure you’ve come to this conclusion yourself, but it’s almost certain that whoever killed him was present at the party last night. Do you think you can get me a guest list?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose I can—” A knock at my door interrupts me. “Sorry, Sean. I have to go.”

“Be careful, Mary.”

“I always am.”

“That’s a lie.”

I don't argue with him further. I hang up and answer the door. I expect it to be Catherine, Sophie, or one of the children. Instead, it's a petite woman with severe features wearing an equally severe pantsuit and thick glasses ahead of brilliant green eyes.

“Mary Wilcox?”

I blink. “Who are you?”

She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out an ID. “Inspector Elisabeth Moreau, Interpol.”

My shock must register on my face. “Interpol?”

“Yes,” Moreau replies. “May I ask you some questions?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t explain herself further. After a moment, I ask, “Regarding?”

She lifts an eyebrow, the only indication of surprise she shows. “The death of Frederick Jensen.”

I stare at her a moment longer before it clicks. Sean has uncovered evidence of financial indiscretion. Interpol often investigates serious financial crimes in the European Union. Perhaps Moreau is taking advantage of Frederick’s death to learn what she can of those crimes. Or perhaps she believes his extralegal escapades had a hand in his death.

In either case, I don’t understand why she would speak to me. Any useful testimony I have she would have learned from the police.

So I ask, “Why me?”

“We’re interviewing the family and household staff to learn what we can from those who knew him.”

“Yes, but… I didn’t know him, really. I’ve only been here for a week. Eight days today.”

“All the same.”

She holds my eyes until I sigh and say, “All right. May I have a moment to dress? I’m in my nightgown.”

“Of course.”

I close the door and collect my thoughts. I'm not sure why I've suddenly become the focus of this investigation. Surely, I can't be a suspect.

The unpleasant realization comes to me that I am the person who discovered the body. I consider Thomas Keller to be the last person to see Frederick alive, but I was the first person to see him dead. Of course, I would at least be considered.

Once more, I am grateful for Sean. I will likely be closely watched, and that will limit my ability to investigate this case on my own. That being said, it is even more urgent now that I learn what happened to Frederick. I can’t imagine that anyone would try to framemefor his murder, but I can’t rule out the possibility that I might be made a convenient scapegoat due to my proximity to the crime.

When I am finished changing, I am not surprised to find Inspector Moreau standing in the exact same spot I leave her. “After you, Inspector.”

She leads me to the front of the house. Other Interpol agents are talking to other household members. I see two sitting across from Catherine in the living room, and through the open door to the dining room, I see another talking to Sophie.

---