“You couldn’t have known something like this would happen,” Marianne said gently.
Those words seemed to trigger some internal lever in Jeanne. The maid’s distress vanished like the floor of the wardrobe. An eerily blank expression took its place.
“You are right.” She smoothed out the handkerchief that she’d crumpled. “I couldn’t have known. How could I have?”
“So you mustn’t blame yourself. Instead, we must focus on the task ahead of us,” Em said.
“Task?” Jeanne said.
Em nodded. “I’m afraid we’ve concluded that your mistress’ death was no accident.”
Vi braced for Jeanne’s reaction, but the other only stared blankly at Em.
“We’re trying to identify possible suspects,” Em went on. “If you could tell us which of the guests knew Monique, especially those who knew her, er, intimately…”
Please don’t say Wick.Violet tensed, readying to cut in.
“I beg your pardon.” Jeanne drew herself up, her eyes blazing once more. “Monique de Brouet was no light-skirt. She was a fine lady—the daughter of acomtesse.”
“Even fine ladies have admirers, don’t they?” Em said.
“Oui.But my mistress conducted herself with grace and class, in a manner befitting of her ancestors.” Jeanne’s chin jutted out. “On this, I will never waver.”
Whatever the maid knew, she clearly was not about to betray her mistress’ secrets. Violet exhaled. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
“What about enemies?” Marianne said. “Did anyone wish your mistress ill?”
Fear seized Jeanne’s worn features once more.
“You can tell us,” Em coaxed. “We’ll keep you safe.”
“Safety is an illusion. The darkness always comes,” the maid whispered. “The only way to escape it is to flee.”
Her eyes shifted like those of a cornered beast. Vi was worried that Jeanne might try to make a run for it… but the maid’s expression smoothed once more.
She’s truly addled, Vi thought with sympathy.
“There were those who envied my mistress’ popularity,” Jeanne said. "Josephine Ashe and Cedric Burns, to name two.”
“Burns, you say?” Vi knew about Miss Ashe’s animosity, but Burns had seemed like an amiable fellow. “He was at the same table as Monique and I that first night. I didn’t notice any tension between the two.”
“My mistress would not squabble in the street with that mongrel.” Jeanne sniffed. “Burns, however, hounded her in private. Wanting to bask in her reflected glory, he proposed that he and Madame Monique perform together… the nerve, thinking he could partner with my mistress!”
“But he has a partner,” Vi said, puzzled. “If he partnered with Monique, what would happen to Miss Ashe?”
“She would be left out in the cold,” Jeanne said smugly. “But my mistress had no interest in Burns. No matter how many times he tried to persuade her, she turned him down flat.”
“Did Miss Ashe know about his proposal?” Emma said.
“Je ne sais pas. But about a month ago, after my mistress turned Burns down for the last time, she went to practice on the tightrope and had a near accident. The rope had begun to fray, you see, and, fortunately, she noticed before it was too late.”
Marianne’s brows arched. “And you think Mr. Burns or Miss Ashe was somehow involved?”
“The tightrope was new. There was no reason for it to fray.” Hostility flamed in Jeanne’s eyes. “It was an act of sabotage.”
“Sabotage?” Vi whispered. “Thunderbolts.”
“We will follow up,” Emma said decisively. “Is there anything else you can think of that might be of use in finding your mistress’ killer?”
