[Fen Churche 02] - Night Train to Paris by Fliss Chester

Author:Fliss Chester [Chester, Fliss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781838886455
Google: iPUBEAAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 55768034
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2020-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

She wasn’t sure why quite yet, but the little dog who was now curled up at the end of her bed kept coming to mind, and, of course, with the Arnaults possibly involved, it made her think of Rose’s list of paintings and how they all had a hand in the scheme. Fen also wondered, as she wrote the words down, if someone had had a hand in something altogether less virtuous to do with all that artwork, and if that had led to Rose’s death?

Twenty-Five

Fen woke up with the napkin stuck between her cheek and the pillow. She peeled it away from her skin as she blinked her eyes open and then looked at the words again. There was definitely something ringing out at her about them… Paintbrush, cipher, forgeries, chameleon, Tipper, list… Why had those words stuck out to her in particular? She recited the words over again and then put the napkin to one side and slipped out of the blankets.

She had barely opened her bedroom door when she was met by a soft wet nose and a ball of fluffy energy and Fen leaned down and picked up Tipper.

‘Good morning and goodbye Fen,’ Simone called out from the hallway and Fen called back a goodbye as she carried Tipper to the kitchen, where she found some meat scraps for him for his breakfast.

‘Looks like I’ll have to sweet-talk the butcher this morning for you,’ she said as she stroked the little dog between the ears as his muzzle was deep in his food bowl. Fen’s own stomach rumbled and she added, ‘And for me, too, I think.’

With thoughts of crispy bacon sandwiches and a proper roast leg of lamb milling around her head, she washed and dressed and then took Tipper out to the courtyard garden so he could uncross his legs. She was back up in the apartment and ready in good time for James’s arrival. He knocked on the door at 8.30 a.m. sharp and was heralded by Tipper yapping.

‘Calm down, fella,’ James knelt down and played with the dog, winding it round in circles as it followed his hand.

‘You’re just winding him up, James,’ Fen ticked him off as she led him through to the studio.

‘You’d think he’d know me by now, wouldn’t you?’

Fen laughed, not unkindly, but she teased him with the thought that perhaps Tipper knew exactly what he was doing, protecting the ladies of the house…

‘I’ll have you know that I left Simone chastely untouched and by this very front door by eleven o’clock last night.’

Fen chuckled again. ‘I know! I heard you both not very chastely saying goodbye in the corridor!’

James blushed slightly and shrugged his shoulder and murmured something about the ‘heat of the moment’ and ‘best intentions’.

‘Anyway, you’ve already missed her, I’m afraid – she headed off at the crack of dawn to get to work.’

‘Did Tipper alert you to that fact?’ James crouched down and started playing with the miniature poodle again.

‘No, Simone and I obviously pose no excitement whatsoever for the little beast.

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