“I don’t know.” Emile flung out one hand in a dramatic gesture. “That is the truth, Captain. I have no idea. Neither does Claude. We searched Gallo’s rooms top to bottom but found nothing—no papers or letters or whatever he had—that mentioned my family. Nothing of any kind. Either he lied to them or he hid the things very well.”
I fell silent as I considered the implications of what Emile had confessed.
First, Gallo, rather than being simply a spurned lover and a nuisance about town, was apparently also a blackmailer. Whether he did this for a living or had seized an opportunity remained to be seen.
Second, the Deveres had a secret that they’d not wanted anyone, especially a rogue like Gallo, to discover. Claude and Emile, upon learning of Gallo’s threats, had met in La Guillotière, made certain Gallo went elsewhere, and searched his rooms for the evidence in order to spare their family.
Emile’s declaration that he did not know exactly what the secret was rang true. I wondered if Claude knew, but from Claude’s demeanor today, I doubted it. Neither young man had understood what to look for and so had found nothing.
Whatever Gallo had known, I was certain it involved the older generation of Deveres, not the younger.
Gallo as a blackmailer explained Fernand’s shock when he found Gallo dead, as well as his sudden animosity to me. If Gallo had been blackmailing the Devere brothers, Fernand would fear that the secret would come to light, especially if the gendarmes investigated his murder.
Fernand had also worried that Claude had dispatched Gallo, perhaps in a misguided attempt to protect the family honor. He might fear that one of his brothers had done the same.
My imagination went further, supposing Fernand murdered Gallo himself. He’d certainly not been happy I’d been present to find the body.
“Bloody hell,” I said softly.
Emile continued to look ashamed and dejected. Gabriella left her place at my side to flow to his and take his hand.
“Poor Emile,” she said with such love I had to glance down the hill to the rather splendid view. “I wish you’d have told me.”
“I didn’t want to burden you,” Emile answered hollowly. “It is a family matter.”
Gabriella leaned into him. “I will be family very soon, my love. It is a burden I will gladly help you carry.”
I did not wish for Gabriella to be burdened at all, but the tender gratitude Emile turned on her told me she’d known exactly what to say to him.
To my relief, Brewster descended the path above us to interrupt the unnerving tableau.
Emile flushed and gently disentangled himself from Gabriella, but Gabriella beamed her smile at Brewster, not in the least embarrassed.
“What do you advise, sir?” Emile asked me in English with flattering trust. “I suppose I should tell all this to Captain Vernet, to prove Claude is innocent.”
“Wouldn’t advise it,” Brewster said. “Never give up too much information to the beaks. They’ll use it against you, soon as you draw your next breath. What has happened? You look terrified, lad.”
“It appears that Signor Gallo was blackmailing the Deveres,” Gabriella said before Emile or I could decide what to tell him. “We don’t know why.”
Brewsters brows rose. “Was he, now? Dangerous game, blackmail. Blokes try to blackmail His Nibs all the time, but he never responds to it. Disgusting business.”
His Nibs was James Denis, a man I’d never dare to blackmail without a long, hard think about it first. I imagined anyone who tried it came to a bad end.
Emile’s expression was anxious. “If we tell Captain Vernet, it might help him find the killer. Signor Gallo might have been blackmailing other people as well.”
Innocent lad—he’d point Vernet directly at his own family.
“You indicated that Signora Ruggeri aided Gallo,” I said. “Even after they ceased their love affair.”
Emile nodded. “According to Claude. I don’t know if he meant about the blackmailing.”
I still believed Signora Ruggeri to be the most likely culprit in the man’s murder, no matter that she’d slept at the comtesse’s chateau. She might have slipped out with none the wiser, or she might have instructed her coachman, whom Fernand said was a brute, to do the deed for her.
I could not risk, however, that Vernet would draw different conclusions.
“I suggest I return with you to Gallo’s rooms and try to find what has your uncles and father so concerned,” I said. “Before Vernet’s men find it, that is. If there is truly nothing there, then your family has little to fear.”
Emile appeared to be both relieved I was taking command and alarmed by my suggestion.
