Murder on the Ile Sordou by M. L. Longworth

Author:M. L. Longworth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Fancy Foreign Noodles

Marie-Thérèse put wineglasses on the last remaining table left to be set and adjusted Mme Poux’s carefully ironed napkins at each place setting. She had noticed Mme Poux’s hand shake as she gave Marie-Thérèse the pile of napkins, and Marie-Thérèse had smiled gently at the maid, thankful that Mme Poux had been so comforting that morning. The island was now surrounded by police and journalists, their boats bobbing up and down on the sea, and the hairs on her forearms stood up from nervous excitement. The chubby judge had been joined by a bald and muscular policeman—un commissaire, Cat-Cat Le Bon had emphasized. He had big brown eyes like her older brother Claude and had smiled as he passed her in the hallway, making him less frightening than when she had first seen him walking up the front stairs with the judge.

“I’m here to warn you that the judge and commissioner would like to speak to all of us before dinner,” Niki Darcette said as she walked into the dining room.

Marie-Thérèse swung around. “Where?”

“Here,” Niki answered. “There’s going to be some kind of announcement.”

Marie-Thérèse realized that she was twisting a napkin in her hands and she set it down, trying to flatten it out with her fist.

“Nobody’s gonna notice a few wrinkles,” Niki said, walking over to stand beside Marie-Thérèse. “Not tonight.”

“There are so many police boats out there, and some policemen walking around the island.”

“Yeah,” Niki said, frowning.

“Who’s in charge?” asked the maid. “The judge, or the commissioner?”

“The judge,” Niki answered. “Antoine Verlaque is an examining magistrate.” Seeing the blank look on Marie-Thérèse’s face, she went on, “He has more power than the commissioner, technically. A magistrate can do anything he wants: wiretap, enter a suspect’s home without a warrant . . . all kinds of things. The commissioner works alongside the magistrate and is the boss, so to speak, of all of the police in his or her town.”

Marie-Thérèse whistled. “You sure know a lot about the law.”

Niki laughed. “Yeah, I could go on and on. There was a time in my life when I had lots of free time on my hands, and had free lodging, so I thought of studying law. But it was way too boring.”

“So you studied hotel management instead?” Marie-Thérèse asked.

“Yeah, sort of.”

“That’s what I’d like to do,” Marie-Therèse said, straightening her back. “I’ve just decided. In Lucerne. I’ve sent in my application.”

“Wow!” Niki replied, laughing. “Do you have an extra twenty-five thousand euros lying around?”

“Does it cost that much? They were kind of vague about the costs . . .”

“That’s just for one year.”

Marie-Thérèse’s face fell. “I had no idea. Maybe I could get a scholarship.”

“Maybe,” Niki quickly replied, feeling suddenly very touched by Marie-Thérèse’s bright enthusiasm, and naivety. “But do you really need school? You’re getting great experience here, on the job. . . . That’s worth its weight in gold. And we’re all so happy with how well you are doing at Sordou.”

“Really?” Marie-Thérèse asked, her eyes sparkling.

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