Page 4 of Nothing Left

Juliette nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed everything Paulette was saying. There was something in her body language that made her suspicious. Paulette was looking down, looking at her hands while she spoke.

But she decided to take a different approach. "Can you tell me who else my father interacted with? Maybe there were problems going on in his life that he shared with you. Can you think of anything that might be relevant or anyone who could have wanted to harm him?"

She thought again, with a guilty twist of her stomach, about the pocketbook she'd found.

Its carefully written notes had revealed that her father had almost certainly been taking bribes or payments from people outside of his diplomatic salary.

She felt sick to think that her father had been not only a cheater but also a corrupt man. She couldn't find any link between the notes and a possible killer, but perhaps he had shared his worries with Paulette. After all, they had been as close as could be.

Paulette paused for a long time, and Juliette could see she was thinking hard. But then she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Juliette, I really don't know anything. Your father was a very charming man. He had many acquaintances as a diplomat. There were embassy functions nearly every night, and he dealt with multitudes of people during his working day. But someone who would have wanted to kill him? I can't think of anyone, and I wasn't privy to his personal life outside of our brief relationship."

Juliette sighed, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her. She had hoped that this meeting would bring her closer to the truth, but it seemed she was no closer than before.There was a question she had to ask, though, even though she worried that it would anger Paulette.

"Where were you on the night he was murdered?" she asked. "And your husband? Where was he?"

Paulette was frowning now. "My husband and I were at a dinner hosted by one of my husband's business associates. We might have been estranged, but to the world, we were still a couple at that point. And for my husband's business reputation, I was ready to play the role." She glanced around the luxurious and well-equipped apartment. "We got back very late. We took a taxicab from the hotel back home and went to bed. In separate rooms. I always remember that night. When I look back, I remember how strange it was that while we were sipping champagne and talking about the company’s investments in Germany and Switzerland, something so terrible was happening. I have never forgotten it."

"Where is your husband now?" Juliette asked. Now, Paulette was meeting her eyes again. Perhaps the earlier evasion hadn't meant as much as she had thought.

"He is in South America. He now lives in Brazil," she said.

Juliette wasn't satisfied with her answers entirely, and she wanted to question her further. But at that point, Paulette frowned.

"You know, talking about this, it is making something come back to me," she said.

Juliette leaned forward, feeling eager. Maybe this was it, the breakthrough she had been hoping for. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's just a vague memory of something he said and something he referred to," Paulette said. "It only surfaced in my mind now. And if I speak of it, I will speak wrongly. I need to do some research so that I can tell you the truth."

"How long will that take?"

Paulette frowned, tapping the table, deep in thought. "Can you come back? Not tomorrow, because I will be returning from my trip to Lyon. When I return, I will do my research and contact the person I need to ask. So, how about the day after? I will see if I can find out the details."

The details on what? Who was she going to ask? Juliette felt exquisitely impatient to know more but sensed that until she had the facts straight, Paulette would not be forthcoming. So there was nothing she could do now but thank her. At least she was cooperating, and she was going to find out more. Juliette guessed she should be thankful for that.

"Shall I'll call you in two days, then?" Juliette asked.

"I will call you the day after tomorrow," Paulette said, reinforcing to Juliette that she preferred to keep control of the situation herself.

"Thank you again for seeing me, Juliette said, realizing that her time was now up and that Paulette needed to get on with her day. “I appreciate it."

"And it was nice to meet you, too, if a little shocking," Paulette said. Once again, her sharp gaze pierced Juliette, and she wondered - was Paulette holding something back? Or was it just that every affair required secrecy and lies, and some of this was still hanging over their dynamic?

But she'd promised to find out more, so Juliette had to put her misgivings aside.

In two days, she'd know more, and until then, she would just have to wait. She'd been patient for years already, she told herself. A few more days could hardly make a difference, and it was important to go slowly so that Paulette had time to do her research and didn't feel pressured.

As she left the apartment, her thoughts returned to her new neighbor, the one who’d been occupying the elevator as he moved in. She was heading back to her apartment now. Perhaps she should detour to the bakery across the street from her house and buy him some croissants or pain au chocolat? That would be a neighborly gesture, and it would be nice to meet him properly. At a glance, he looked like an interesting person.

Feeling positive about that thought, Juliette headed back home to knock on his door, hoping to make a new friend.

CHAPTER THREE

Armed with a bag of freshly made chocolate croissants, their buttery, sweet aroma percolating from the brown paper bag, Juliette stepped out of the elevator. It was now empty of boxes. That meant her new neighbor must be all done with his removals. Now, he would probably be tackling the arduous job of unpacking. Not anyone's favorite way to spend a late summer Saturday in Paris.

Carrying the bag, she headed to the door next to hers.

---