Page 49 of One Last Goodbye

“I doubt she’s left Geneva since she got here,” Sophie says. “The woman’s foolish, but I suppose in her own foolish way, she thought she loved Frederick.”

“I don’t know about that. She was stealing from his company.”

Sophie shrugs. “Well, then she loved having access to money.”

“I have to confess, I thought she might be the killer. When Moreau arrested her, I thought the case was solved.”

Sophie shakes her head. “I was certain he was driven to suicide because of Dr. Strauss. I’m terribly sorry about that, by the way. I really did think she was to blame.”

"Don't apologize," I insist. "I suspected her before you, and I ever talked. We both allowed our prejudices to get in the way."

Sophie nods. “I do wish I’d thought of money sooner.”

“Money?”

“Yes. As a motive for the crime. If I had, I would have thought about Hugo right away.”

My eyebrows raise. I’ve suspected Hugo, of course, but only as an accessory to Catherine’s probable schemes. I’ve never thought of any financial connection to Frederick. “About Hugo?”

“Oh yes. Hugo is quite the gambler.”

“Really?”

She nods emphatically. “He is. Horses, I guess. It seems he’s gambled away what used to be quite a tidy fortune. In fact, his reason for visiting this time around was to ask Frederick for yet another loan.”

“Another loan?”

“Indeed. Frederick’s been helping him out for Catherine’s sake.”

I find that hard to believe. “He’s been helping his wife’s lover?”

“I don’t think he suspected Hugo of being Catherine’s lover. He knew that Catherine was running around on him, just as he was running around on her, but I don’t think he knew that Hugo was her latest beau. He’s helped Hugo several times before. In fact, I suspect that Hugo’s infatuation with Catherine has more to do with access to Frederick’s money.”

I begin to connect the dots in my head. “And now that Frederick’s out of the way, Catherine will have all the money.”

“Well, a tidy sum, anyway.” She finishes her tea. “Well, I’m off to bed. Listen, I don’t want you to take what I’ve said as proof. I’m a little wary of saying I’m sure of anything after what happened with Strauss. It’s just a thought I had when you mentioned that Veronica was embezzling. Good night, Mary.”

“Good night.”

She heads to bed, and I think about what she said. It’s true that her suspicions aren’t proof, but it definitely paints him in an even worse light than before.

I think I have a new task for Sean when he arrives.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The snowstorm arrives suddenly and violently. I wake the next morning and look out my window to see a wall of white. The house must be supremely insulated to muffle the sound of the blizzard.

Of more pressing concern is the pending arrival of my friend, the private investigator. With the weather like this, he is either already in Geneva or he won’t be here for days.

I still have internet service, but the cell phones are disrupted, so I email him instead of calling him and then head downstairs for breakfast.

The table is full this morning. With Frederick's memorial past and his annoying lover in custody, the family seems ready to heal. So, Catherine, the children, Thomas, and Hugo all sit at the table when I arrive. I must have slept later than I thought. I checked my phone and see that it is indeed later than I normally rise, eight a.m. to be exact.

Hugo smiles at me. “Good morning, Mary. I’m glad you could join us.”

I manage to return his smile and a cordial greeting. “Thank you, Mr. Van Doren.”

He laughs. “Oh please, call me Hugo. I’ve never been Mr. Van Doren. I don’t think even my father would have appreciated the moniker.”

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