Harper Lin - Patisserie 06 - Crème Brûlée Murder by Harper Lin

Friends—you guys know. The staff at Damour. I wonder if it was ever written about in the tabloids. I mean, some of those articles reveal a lot about me. Maybe anyone could find out about this if they did a little research.”  

    “We are definitely hiring a bodyguard this time,” Arthur said.  

    “Yesterday at dinner with the Labergs, I did tell them I had a peanut allergy, so the whole family knew, and their entire staff, as well.”  

    “You think it was one of them?” Arthur asked.  

    “I don’t know.” Clémence shook her head. “Why would they? But who knows? I can’t think straight right now.”  

    After a moment of reflective silence, Berenice said. “So it was someone who knew you were investigating Cesar’s death. It’s strange, because this morning you said you were sure Cesar committed suicide. If this person didn’t try to kill you, you would’ve left the case alone.”  

    “I have to call the police to tell them about this,” Clémence said. “Arthur, can you please pass me my purse?”  

    He handed over her brown Chloe purse. When she opened it to look for her smartphone, she pulled out a wrapper.

    “What’s this—” It was a chocolate bar wrapper, the kind Clémence could never eat because she knew there were traces of peanuts in it. “It’s true. Somebody was trying to make it look like an accident. They planted this wrapper in my bag to make it seem like I’d consumed peanuts.”

    Clémence started dialing for Inspector Cyril St. Clair, then she realized something. “The same thing probably happened to Cesar. Somebody poisoned his dessert with the pills he was taking, so when they did the autopsy, they’d find the antidepressants he was taking and write it off as a suicide!”

Chapter 14
    Clémence and Arthur rode in a taxi that was following Inspector Cyril St. Clair’s car. They watched as Cyril sloppily parked stopped in front of Chez Georgina. The inspector’s long spidery legs stepped out onto the street first, followed by the rest of his lanky body.  

    Clémence refused to ever be in the same car as the inspector except under the most dire circumstances. The man had a bad case of road rage that she wanted no part in. She felt sorry for the members of his team, who had to deal with his nasty behavior on a daily basis. Although recently he’d been treating her with a smidge more respect. His snide insults decreased every time she solved another murder case.

    Arthur got out first and went around to Clémence’s side to help her get out. She was feeling a lot better. She was lucky she’d only taken a sip of the wine. If a sip had been enough to send her to the hospital, there was no question what would’ve happened if the klutzy Sylvie hadn’t shown up.

    They followed the inspector and two members of his team into the cozy wine bar. The same bartender was tending the bar and looked surprised to see the grim-faced inspector.

    Cyril introduced himself with his usual arrogance and spoke about the incident that had happened earlier. He demanded to see the waiter who’d served Clémence.  

    The bartender was glad to see that Clémence was all right.  

    She thanked him, then reiterated Cyril’s question. “Where’s the waiter who was working here?”  

    “He’s not a regular employee of mine,” the bartender said. “His name is Jean, but he was just helping out. I didn’t know him before today.”  

    “What do you mean? How could you not know who he is if he’s working here?” the inspector said.  

    “My regular waiter Anton didn’t show up for the lunch rush. I had to serve everyone and run around like a chicken with its head cut off. One of my customers noticed and asked why there was no one else working, and I told him my dilemma. I’d tried reaching Anton, but he was an hour late, and his phone was off. So this customer, who introduced himself as Jean, offered to help. He said he used to work at a wine bar just like mine in Lyon